Why I Left Vocal, Why I Came Back, and Why Writing Feels Like Coming Home

I joined Vocal Media back when it felt like an empty high school gym before prom, just a few of us awkwardly swaying in the corner, wondering if anyone else would show up.

I was a founding member. I watched the platform grow from a handful of stories into a bustling creative universe. And in that time, I wrote my heart out.

My top story was called “A Letter to My Future Husband.” It took off like a chicken running from a fox, and it’s still the piece people mention when they find me online.

But somewhere along the way, I stopped.

I erased blogs like I was wiping off smudges on a bathroom mirror. I got busy with life, motherhood, jobs, relationships, you name it. The world kept turning, and writing fell to the bottom of my never-ending to-do list, right under “fold the mountain of laundry” and “figure out what that weird smell in the fridge is.”

I thought I had outgrown it. Or maybe I thought writing was a luxury I couldn’t afford in my busy, messy life.

Yet here I am again.

I came back to Vocal for one simple reason: I missed writing like a Southern mama misses sweet tea on a hot day.

Writing has always been my safe place, my therapy, my 2 a.m. best friend who never interrupts and always listens. When the world feels too loud, writing whispers back to me, “It’s okay, honey. You’re doing your best.”

When I left, my total reads had hit 58,928. My stories had earned me $307.63. And no, I didn’t exactly retire on a beach with that money, though I probably did treat myself to a large iced coffee and a pack of gummy worms.

I don’t regret taking a break. Sometimes stepping away helps you see what really matters. But I do regret silencing my voice for so long.

Life didn’t stop handing me stories while I was gone. Oh no.

I had a baby ten years after my first son, breastfed one and formula-fed the other, and learned to let go of guilt. I turned 29 and realized I still don’t know if I’m an adult or just a taller teenager with more bills. I perfected the art of reheating coffee six times in one morning.

I learned that writing is not about impressing strangers or chasing viral reads. It’s about connection, with yourself and with others who might be feeling alone in their messy kitchens or sleepless nights.

Coming back to Vocal feels like coming home to an old friend you haven’t seen in years. You pick up right where you left off, with all the same inside jokes and that feeling that they really get you.

I’ve missed the rush of hitting “publish” and then obsessively checking if anyone read it yet. Don’t lie, we all do it. I missed finding kindred spirits in the comments, seeing someone say “me too,” and realizing that no matter how different we look on the outside, we’re all just trying to figure it out one day at a time.

Some people leave Vocal forever. They let their words gather dust, like an old journal shoved in a drawer. But if you’re like me, you know writing isn’t something you just do. It’s something that lives in your bones, bubbles up in the shower, or whispers at you while you’re trying to fall asleep.

Maybe you walked away too. Maybe life got loud and messy and crowded. And maybe, just maybe, you’re thinking about coming back too.

I say do it.

Dust off your words. Crack open your heart again. The world is thirsty for real, raw stories, not just highlight reels.

You don’t have to be perfect. You don’t have to have all the answers. You just have to be honest.

So, here I am. Starting again.

I don’t know if this piece will get thousands of reads or just a gentle handful of claps from a few late-night readers. And that’s okay.

Because I didn’t come back for the stats. I came back because writing feels like coming home after a long day, kicking off your shoes, and sinking into your favorite chair.

It feels like a deep breath.

And if you’re reading this, whether you’re a writer, a reader, a mom hiding in the pantry with a snack, or someone who just stumbled here by accident, thank you. Thank you for sitting with me in this moment.

I’m back, y’all. And I plan to stay a while.