One Year in Letters: Writing Through Impostor Syndrome
September, always September
I like September. It makes me think of the first day of school in my childhood: the gentle sunlight, the stationery shopping my mum and I used to do before school started.
And then, somehow, I blinked and September was gone. A warm one, I’d say – not to complain! We were all a little spoiled this year with a torrid Berlin summer, a bit too hot for my taste, so I’m looking forward to golden hues in the trees, warm clothes, and the crisp morning air that only October knows how to deliver. My hunger to write on paper is back. So is my urge to paint, to experiment with watercolour and whatever other pigments I get my hands on. Last year I had weeks where I’d wake up at 5am and spend two hours straight listening to classical music and painting. (Don’t worry, I’m not pretending to be someone I’m not – I don’t only listen to Bad Bunny.)
The impostor creeping in
I have this “talent” for thinking I never did enough, and I wanted to address exactly that. When I started writing this piece, I felt the impostor in me creep in: why are you writing about letters when you wrote maybe 10 the whole year?
But then, another thought: I wrote the ones that mattered. I write letters to build bridges, and God knows how much closer we all got in real life this year. So many plans escaped the WhatsApp groups and made it into actual afternoons together. So many days measured in hugs and long conversations without a screen in sight. So yes, I didn’t send THAT many letters. I just didn’t need to.
An advent calendar made of quotes
Towards the end of last year, I realised I didn’t have time to put together another calendar the way I did in 2024. My urge to create was too big to just let go, so I spontaneously made an advent calendar out of quotes instead of chocolate. It reached friends, and friends of friends, and I still get emotional when I spot them on people’s walls, some liked a quote so much they framed it!
The healing power
I also journaled, a lot. I’m not the structured, morning-pages type of person, but I’ve learned I genuinely feel the urge to pick up a pen, thanks to an exercise I do and thanks to my Schreibstation (which is also where I’m writing this from right now). I take my emotions and put them into words. Joy grows. Anxiety calms down. I don’t know what kind of healing power lives in the ink of my pen, but it’s real 🙂
Travel journals: my favourite ritual
One practice I’ve built and that has truly stuck: travel journals. I start with the daily plan, our itinerary, and go on to collect the jokes, the funny moments, the emotional ones. I keep memorabilia, stickers, local maps, all collaged into something I know I’ll laugh about a year later. I just went through last year’s Rome journal, and it’s already so, so memorable :)) My friends and family half-jokingly call me a dictator because I make everyone pick up a pen too, whether they like it or not.
There’s always a reason to write, and it doesn’t have to be a big occasion:
A “love letter” to my grandparents for Valentine’s Day
Congratulating a friend on her new home
Inviting friends to Berghain while I babysat their daughter
Celebrating a friend’s “paper anniversary” (one year of marriage)
Lately I’ve stopped waiting for special occasions to send a card or a letter, and honestly, there are more milestones worth celebrating than we give ourselves credit for.
Final thoughts
So yes: write, people! Write to get the thoughts out of your head, to congratulate, to celebrate, to confess. Cherish love and friendship, your elders, your neighbours. Everyone deserves one heartfelt letter among all those boring invoices in their mailbox. And remember, letters aren’t only for romantic stories. They’re for the whole, messy, wonderful year you just lived through.
