Even When It’s Hard: How I Kept Writing (and Healing)

September is always full. It’s back-to-school season and also the Yamim Noraim, the Days of Awe (Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur). With two milestone family birthdays added in, our month quickly fills up.

For the past 12 years, I have participated in 10Q. Here’s how it works: Each day, for ten days, you answer one question in your private online 10Q space. Your responses can be serious or lighthearted. There are no word counts. When you finish, your answers are stored securely. A year later, 10Q returns the previous year’s answers to your inbox for reflection. You can keep your answers private or choose to share them with the 10Q community.

For the past twelve years, I have used 10Q as a space for private reflection, sending my responses to the vault each year. Last week, 10Q returned my 2025 answers. Reading them, I remembered the pain I felt last year, both physical and emotional. I was recovering from chemotherapy and its side effects, as well as a broken foot from a complication after surgery seven months earlier. I was miserable, and my writing reflected that. Here are two of my answers:

How would you like to improve yourself and your life next year? Is there a piece of advice or counsel you received in the past year that could guide you?

Your Answer: I don’t think I will be able to get the “old me,” the “pre-cancer me,” back again. However, I aspire to feel comfortable with the “new me.” I’m unsure what I’ll look like. … Well, I’d like to find the new me and accept her.

When September 2026 rolls around and you receive your answers to your 10Q questions, how do you think you’ll feel? What do you think/hope might be different about your life and where you’re at as a result of thinking about and answering these questions?

Your Answer: I want to feel healthier and more fulfilled. I hope to find more glimmers of joy than moments of sadness. I want to be content, if not happy.

After twelve years of answering the same questions, I can see that my responses last year were brief. My 2025 answers were more perfunctory than reflective. They revealed the resentment I felt about my circumstances. I am not proud of the writing itself, but I am proud that I wrote at all. I could have skipped 10Q last year, but I made time for it because it is part of my high holiday reflection. I showed up to the page, even when it was difficult.

At Two Writing Teachers, we encourage educators to show up and write, even if it is just for ten minutes a day. The most important part of building a writing habit is returning to the page, especially when it feels hard or the words do not come easily. Whether you write in the morning, at night, or alongside another routine, what matters is that you keep coming back. Progress is not about perfection or long hours. It is about honoring your commitment, noticing the benefits, and allowing yourself to grow over time. If you can find a way to show up for your writing, even in a small way, you are already making progress.

Now, I believe my surgeries are behind me. Recovery from my last surgery (in June 2026) is taking longer than I expected. Initial recovery took six weeks, but full recovery will take 12-18 months. I am rebuilding my strength, both on land and in the pool. I feel healthier, even though I am still healing. There are more joyful moments than sad ones. I can see my growth because I kept writing last year, even when I did not want to. The new version of myself feels proud, not because everything is perfect, but because I continued to show up, even when it was hardest.