Why I Write?

 I started writing when I was around fifteen. Not because I thought I would become a writer — but because I didn’t know how else to say the things I was feeling. Writing became the only place where my thoughts didn’t get interrupted, where my emotions had space to unfold without judgment.

At first, it was just a quiet refuge — some messy pages, unfinished poems, loose thoughts scribbled in the margins of school notebooks. But slowly, those fragments became something more. I realized I was not just escaping into writing — I was building something real, something that allowed me to understand myself and the world around me.

I write essays when I need clarity — when I want to untangle something complex inside me or in the world. I write poetry when emotions rise too fast for full sentences. And I write drama or screenplays when I need to let silence speak — through characters that don’t look like me, but somehow carry pieces of me.

Each form of writing opens a different door. And each language I write in reveals a different version of who I am.

I write in Serbian — the language of emotion, memory, and intuition.
I write in Russian — a language that brings depth, resonance, and a sense of spiritual intensity.
I write in English— the language of openness and rhythm, of sharing stories beyond borders.

“Sometimes I dream of a crowded place,
I turn around — and find your face.
One small moment, a second chance,
To finish our unfinished dance.”

That’s the final stanza from one of my poems — a reminder that writing lets me complete conversations that never happened, rewrite endings that never came, and preserve moments that would otherwise disappear.

I don’t write to impress. I write because I need to. There are things that live in me too quietly for speaking — but too loudly to ignore. And when I write them down, I feel less alone.

This blog is a space where I’ll share some of those thoughts, poems, scenes, essays, and emotional fragments. They’re not always polished or perfect — but they’re real. And they matter to me.

Today, something small but meaningful happened — I submitted four poems to a writing competition in English for the very first time. It was scary and exciting at once.
And earlier this week, a Russian news website published my essay about love for one’s homeland — a piece I wrote with my whole heart.
I’m quietly happy about these small steps. Not because they’re big achievements, but because they remind me: I’m finally doing what I love, out loud.

Do you enjoy in writing too? Let me know in comments.

If anything you read here finds its way into your own thoughts or feelings, even for a second — then maybe we’ve met in the place between words.

Welcome to my world of language.

Nena

Essayist | Poet | Screenwriter | Playwright