Self-motivation is a strange creature. People love to preach about building good habits, as if stacking enough of them together will build you a better life. Sure, routines have their place. But no habit will save you if you don’t know why you’re doing the thing in the first place.

More than anything, I’ve always wanted to use my word-related talents to improve people’s lives in any way possible. That’s what got me into writing motivational topics. I once had this grand plan to write a book about self-improvement. I was going to cover everything from self-awareness to self-love, with a little self-forgiveness thrown in for flair. I’d write every day, build momentum, and inspire people in my Twitter following at the time by the dozens.

Of course, this story ends in failure. I got sick with cancer, barely survived, the project fizzled, and years later, here we are, I’m still picking over the bones of what could’ve been. What derailed me wasn’t just illness, though. It was the sheer weight of the plan itself. I’ve always tended to overbuild. Every writing idea became a series.It stopped being about the act of writing and turned into this high-pressure exercise in meeting impossible expectations. Eventually, I burned out—not because I had nothing to say, but because I tried to say too much all at once.

It turns out that habits are only useful if they’re rooted in something real. Writing every day didn’t make me a better writer. It just gave me a graveyard of half-finished essays and ideas I couldn’t bear to finish because none of them felt big enough to live up to the plan. It’s hard to feel motivated when every blank page feels like a failed promise to myself.

What I’ve learned, mostly the hard way, is that self-motivation isn’t about chasing some unrealistic “ideal” version of yourself. Instead, you just show up as the mess you are and make the best of it. I’ve found the best approach to writing, at least for me, is working in small, stubborn increments and resisting the urge to turn every scribbled note or stray line of poetry into a key piece of my legacy.

Sometimes, I still ask myself, “If I can’t finish anything, what’s the point of starting?” Unglamorous as it is, starting is the only way forward. If you care about something, you don’t need grand plans. All you need is a reason. Mine is simple: I want to help people avoid the same traps I fell into. If I can do that by being honest about where I’ve screwed up, that’s good enough.

Maybe the self-motivation book will happen someday, but likely not. What matters is that today, this little essay exists. That counts for something. So, if your self-motivation is waning, just think about the thing that’s most important to you. Focus on that. Do everything you do for that reason. That’s the best advice I can ever give.

~ Amelia Desertsong