2025 has been a year of discovery.
I moved to another state, lived alone, changed my degree, lost and found myself again — it’s been busy. But the best part of this year has been falling in love with writing.
Last semester, I was on a grind. I think I put out close to 30 articles just because I loved it so much. Writing became my whole world. So when applications came out for officer and editor positions, I jumped on the bandwagon.
When I got the email saying I was an editor, I was over the moon. I called my mom, told my friends, jumped around — excitement doesn’t even begin to cover it. A few weeks in, I was ready to quit — not because I didn’t value the role, but because I felt like I was losing my spark.
I love my writers. They’re talented and don’t get mad when I leave more than 50 comments on their articles. But somewhere along the way, I lost the plot. I started to ask myself — was the so-called promotion really worth it?
I used to pride myself on writing. I was publishing two or three articles a week last semester, and I was so in love with it that I even started a Substack. I wanted this position. I wanted to help people find the same sense of excitement I felt when I saw an article populate on the Her Campus website. But something was off — something was missing.
At first, I thought I was stretched too thin. But when cutting down work hours and delegating tasks didn’t help, I started to think I needed to step back from my editor role. Was going through article after article draining me? Not really — I enjoyed it. I went back and forth for weeks until it finally hit me: I missed writing.
At heart, I’m a writer. I love to create. When I realized I hadn’t published an article in months, my heart sank. I missed the craft — I felt like there was a hole in my soul. I started to resent my position, not because it was bad, but because I wasn’t doing what made me feel whole — writing.
This semester has been a whirlwind. Between a heavy course load, work and multiple leadership roles, my writing time has become little to none. But writing used to be my safe place — my favorite thing in the world.
So last week, I did what any good leader would do: I delegated. I asked someone to take a few articles off my hands and gave myself time to reflect. Was I made to be an editor? What was missing?
There’s always this pressure to be “moving up,” to be working toward the next big milestone. But what if that’s not always the best thing? Just because someone’s good at a role doesn’t mean they’ll be good at managing other people.
So here’s my conclusion: Yes, the promotion is worth it.
I love editing, and I love helping people refine their work. But that doesn’t mean I’m the best at it. If anything, it stresses me out in ways I can’t explain. I often forget to remind my writing groups that their articles are due or reach out when people go quiet. I don’t want to come off as ungrateful — I’m happy to be in my position.Â
But here’s the truth: Sometimes the promotion isn’t where you’ll feel the most fulfilled. Sometimes it’s OK to keep doing what you love. Sometimes someone else will love the position more than you. And sometimes it’s perfectly fine to just keep the title “staff writer.”
I’m not giving up editing — it’s still a fun part of my job — but from now on, writing is a priority again. I realize that the best thing I can do for my writers is to write for myself too — and actually tell them when stuff is due (whoopsie). I’m endlessly thankful for the chance to grow, but I’m even more thankful to have rediscovered what makes me feel alive — writing.