Who am I if I don’t write?
This question followed me throughout yesterday – when my body said no and the words no longer carried their usual ease. In this post I explore what happens when writing falls silent, when SEO and technique take over, and how an ordinary, tired morning can open up a deeper understanding of myself. I also link to earlier posts like When the Body Reacts Before the Thought and When Feelings Get Stuck in the Body – because they belong to the same journey I’m on.
Read this in Swedish ->Vem är jag om jag inte skriver?
When the Body Says No
Yesterday morning I felt unwell. I had been freezing during the night and was still cold as I sat here writing the post that was supposed to go up. Afterward, a strange feeling came over me – as if something wasn’t quite right. It was like the words I had written were no longer mine, as if something inside me had grown tired. It became too much SEO and too little of myself, and that stirred a question I couldn’t shake off: who am I if I don’t write?
Who Am I If I Don’t Write – When the Words Fall Silent?
It’s really a question I don’t even want to ask, but that I feel I have to explore.
Because what do I do when I’m not writing?
Well – I clean, cook, take care of my family. I browse the internet, drink tea, withdraw into myself. But none of that is the whole of me. It’s not the part that is curious, eager to learn, fascinated by people and psychology – the part that can’t be touched but still steers so much. Exactly what I wrote about in The Body Remembers – Survival Strategies and Self-Healing.
A Slow Morning That Taught Me More Than I Expected
When the uneasiness washed over me yesterday, I chose something different.
A quiet morning.
I made the bed slowly, walked around in my robe, felt low. My morning swims had been skipped for several days, and today I chose not to push through either. The feverish feeling and the tiredness got to decide, and I listened.
After a while at the computer, I picked up my study book again, read a little and reflected. But when it was enough, I knew I needed air. I drove down into town, went to the pharmacy and bought the little things that help me feel better. Small things – but important ones. It felt like every small action carried me a little bit.
Small Steps Back to Myself
When the items were in the car, I walked to the hairdresser.
It wasn’t really planned – my steps just took me there.
I have long hair, always in a ponytail, heavy to wash and brush, and I don’t like when it falls into my face. But I’ve just endured it. Yesterday it was time for a change. I booked a time – and today I’m going.
I don’t know yet how short it will be. I’ll feel it when I sit there.
Maybe the change begins right here, in the small things.
When I came home, something felt different. Not like everything was fine, but like something had shifted. As if I had taken a small step toward myself. Small everyday actions became small reminders that I still exist even when the words go quiet.
Maybe the answer to the question “who am I if I don’t write?” isn’t a word at all – but this:
I am still me, even then.
I live in the in-between spaces too.
I am not only my texts.
And to understand all of this a bit better, I also read a section about recovery and rest on 1177.se (external link), just to remind myself that sometimes the body needs more time than the mind wants to admit.

Reflection
Looking back at yesterday, I see how easy it is to lose yourself in everything you think you have to do. SEO, meta, structure and tech are good tools – but they must not become my boundaries.
My body showed me that I needed to rest, slow down, and make space for myself.
I am not less Carina just because I write less on a given day.
I am still me, even in the quiet.
Between the Lines – My Voice
This isn’t really about a blog post or a bad day.
It’s about identity.
About how I sometimes forget that I am a human being first and a writer second.
I need my words – but I also need the silence.
I don’t exist in the boxes that are meant to turn green.
I exist in the feelings, in the steps toward the pharmacy, in the rest, in the decision to book a haircut.
That’s where my voice lives.
A Question for You Who Read
What happens to you when a part of you falls silent for a while – and how do you find your way back?

Carina Ikonen Nilsson
Yesterday is already resting in history. Tomorrow will come when it does.
Right now is what matters.
This is where life happens.
— Carina Ikonen Nilsson
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