How do you write like a human?
How do you ensure nobody mistakes your writing for AI-generated text?
On 28 February, I had a short conversation with Curtis on Twitter.
And Curtis wrote:
I totally associate the phrase [wholehearted writing] with you. You are original. Anything that attracts your thoughts gets your interpretation. For you, if it feels like it or not, it’s like breathing. You write as a “Wholehearted human” now. Describe that. Talk about that. Your insight. 🙂
Awww, that’s a big compliment, I thought. Thank you, Curtis.
Am I up for the challenge?
Do I really know how I write?
How I changed my approach to writing
When I started this blog, I answered questions in my blog posts.
Sometimes, those questions were mine. Often, the questions came from readers. For instance:
- How can I improve my writing skills?
- How can I write more conversationally?
- How do you make your words more powerful?
- How can I learn copywriting?
- How do I use adverbs correctly?
After a couple of years of blogging, I had answered the most common questions.
So, what could I write about next?
The internet is a giant echo chamber, and I thought I should write about what’s popular—the same things others are writing about. Isn’t that the essence of content marketing? Just put it in your own words.
But I had done that.
I needed to do something different. I had to reinvent myself.
The only option seemed to be to follow my curiosity.
But it’s surprisingly hard to follow your curiosity
My inner critic thinks it’s safer to write about the same things that other people blog about.
And she loudly opposes ideas that seem slightly off the beaten track. On writing this post she told me:
Nobody will find this interesting!
Nobody wants to know how you write!
What arrogance!
Unfortunately, Curtis’ prompt to write this post wasn’t enough to silence my inner critic.
So, as usual, I listened to my inner critic, I acknowledged her fears, and then I took charge and wrote a first draft.
I’ve learned to follow my intuition rather than my inner critic.
And yes, my inner critic also thinks following my intuition is a crazy idea: Isn’t intuition woo-woo? Shouldn’t I be more rational? You write with your brain not with your gut, right?
But my inner critic doesn’t quite understand how writing works.
I don’t just write with my brain.
I write with both body and mind
The idea of writing as an embodied practice isn’t as crazy as I used to think.
Research suggests that financial traders who are more in tune with their bodies are more successful. Thinking doesn’t just happen in our brains; there’s wisdom in our bodies, too.
When I ground myself in my body, I feel more alive, I am more inspired, and I can give myself permission to follow my curiosity. I’m more patient, gentler with myself.
My writing process can be messy. But when I ground myself in my body, I don’t let the messiness frustrate me. I trust that clarity will emerge.
When I ground myself in my body, I allow myself to be more playful, to try things out. I can connect with my inner child. I don’t take myself too seriously, but I don’t undermine my self-worth either. I dare to trust my intuition.
That trust—in my observations, in my ideas, in my writing process, in my intuition—has slowly grown over time. Partly because I listened to my inner critic, realized she was only voicing my fears, and took control away from her. And partly because I kept writing, and publishing, and tiptoeing out of my comfort zone.
I try to protect and nurture that trust. It allows me to write with a sense of calm, to be fully present, and to be my most compassionate self.
I care about my writing, and I care about you.
Writing is a conversation with you
I used to think that blogging was about building authority.
I wanted to come across as an expert. I wanted to make a good impression.
And that’s not a bad idea.
But more than building authority, blogging for me is about connecting from human to human.
Yes, I still write to help and share what I learn.
But I don’t write to impress.
I share what fascinates me and hope you’ll find it interesting, too. I write to share my enthusiasm and hope it inspires you.
I always want to leave a piece of me in my writing
This post you’re reading right now shares quite a big piece of me. It’s personal. I feel vulnerable. But that’s okay. It’ll make me stronger.
The piece of myself I leave behind in a blog post can be smaller, too. It can be a story in miniature (stories are always more human than straightforward tips) or a personal comment here or there.
But the rule is that I have to leave something behind. It can be only me who’s written this. If it feels like anyone could have written a post, it’s not good enough. I have to show up.
My inner critic has never been keen on being personal in my writing. She used to say I’m too boring and my ideas aren’t worthwhile.
But she’s learning to shut up so I can listen to my body. My body tells me it’s okay. I am safe.
I imagine you—my reader—are cheering me on. I think of you as appreciative, gentle, and kind. It’s why I like having this conversation with you.
I don’t know exactly how it works
But when I write with both my mind and my body, I drop my shiny mask of perfection and show up as myself.
That doesn’t mean I reveal all. I show you my best self. My gentle self. My curious self. My playful self. My compassionate self.
I don’t need to pretend that I know all, and I don’t need to pretend to be perfect.
I can be human. I am present.
And I hope you can feel that presence when you read.
Thank you for being here.
PS
Thank you to Curtis Beaird for challenging me to write this post.
Further reading on how I write:
How I became a writer in my 40s
How I made peace with my inner critic
How I learned to love writing
Aw love this post Henneke, thank you for sharing your approach. It’s so timely. What I love most about your posts is your vulnerability, your playfulness, and the interconnectedness in how you weave in your interests and observations into tips.
It’s a beautiful, powerful, personal way of writing that’s authentically you 🙂
“If it feels like anyone could have written a post, it’s not good enough. I have to show up.”
“I don’t need to pretend that I know all, and I don’t need to pretend to be perfect.”
Awww, thank you, Cynthia. That’s lovely feedback.
“I love the way bakers pull a sponge cake from the oven and then lower an ear to the browning surface of the mixture to listen for gas escaping, or the old-timer mechanics who can identify the spark plug that needs changing by cocking one ear.”
From “How to read nature”-Tristan Gooley
Love this post.
Thanks.
I just devoured a book that made me think of you.
I hope this message finds you well.
Phil
Yay! Another book recommendation from Phil. Your quote from the book made me really curious (the book’s title, too). I can’t wait to read it.
Thank you so much, Phil. So lovely that you thought of me while reading a good book.
I love all your writing and have learned so much from you. This one however, is so real, I feel like I know you a little more and I like what I know! You’re wholeheartedly human. thanks for your stories!
That’s so lovely. Thank you, Noelle, for being here. It did feel like I was sharing perhaps a deeper level of myself than usually.
Henneke, this is such a simple, powerful and beautiful post. Thanks. I love how you described your inner critic and the simplicity with which you grew out of your hesitations. I needed to read this today.
Somehow, I feel really happy that you came to read this post, Elfin. I appreciate it. And yes, there’s simplicity to dealing with my hesitations but despite the simplicity it’s not been a quick fix. It’s been a long process of steady improvement with the occasional hiccups. Thank you. I’m glad you enjoyed this.
Oh, Henneke! You did it again. Inspiring me when I didn’t think I could be. Revealing a bit of yourself — so that we also might be brave enough to reveal a bit of ourselves. For that, I am grateful for knowing you — even if it’s only through a few courses and this online verbal world.
Thanks so much! Be blessed. 🙂
The connections through my blog and courses feel real to me, and they’re valuable to me, too. Thanks so much for your lovely comment, Terry. ♥️
Your caring and sharing shine through as does your vulnerability and authenticity. The real you.
Thank you, Linda. Writing has become a important part of being me.
I love reading posts that are not robotic. I always say the one thing that’s different about me is that I write from the heart. And that’s why I love your writing because I know you do too! Thanks for sharing this. Yeah, it’s hard to explain. Lol!
Yes, hard to explain but still we can all sense the difference when someone writes from the heart. Thank you for stopping by, Lux.
What ‘soulful’ and ‘straight from the heart’ writing.
Loved this piece, as usual.
The way you write is you are holding a conversation with the person reading this blog, one at a time. That’s why it sounds human.
Keep writing wholeheartedly!
Shweta.
Thank you so much, Shweta. It’s a pleasure to have this conversation with you.
Henneke,
Thank you for sharing such a personal aspect of your writing process. As I read your words, I could almost feel a shift happening within myself. I want to write more like that, with body and mind. I’ll keep practicing ;).
Lovely to see you again, Liesje.
And yes, practicing has been key for me, too. The more I practice, the quieter my inner critic becomes, and the more joyful writing becomes. But it’s not a linear process. I do sometimes still hit peak anxiety and then I’ll go back to basics. It’s a lifelong practice but it helps me deal with difficult emotions in life, too.
Beautiful post, but I’m not super clear on what you mean by grounding yourself in your body when you write.
What do you do to accomplish this?
Is it an awareness thing, or should I do squats between paragraphs?
Great question!
For me, the key thing is to get out of my head. So, I notice the thoughts my inner critic is voicing and the fears or stress behind it, then I observe how those emotions manifest themselves in my body. Just by observing, the tension becomes less and the fears can drift away. My attention shifts from the chatter in my mind to my body. This is a mindfulness exercise. I’ve written more about it here: https://www.enchantingmarketing.com/how-to-find-inner-peace/ I don’t always do this before every writing session but I do it when I feel stressed or anxious or feel resistance to writing—anytime it feels hard to start writing. Rather than pushing through the resistance, I try to figure out what’s going on and what’s behind it.
I don’t think it’s the only approach that works. Some people like doing breathing exercises, others dance before they start writing. So, squats might also work.
What doesn’t work is fighting your inner critic or trying to avoid them. This tends to make their voice louder.
I hope this helps!
Henneke, I adore your writing. I don’t check my email as often as I should, but when I do the cleanout, I ALWAYS save your emails. I have oodles of them. I read them multiple times, once as a reader, then once as a writer looking for how to do things that work.
You’ve coalesced instructional with personal, like a friendly college professor invested in your well-being that takes the time to chat after class, you’re authentic and genuine. You inspire me. Okay, enough gushing, I’m fangirling a bit too much here.
Your inner critic is just jealous it doesn’t drive the ship anymore. THANK GOD, or we’d miss out on you sharing your gift. I think that goes for all the writers.
I appreciate that you mindfully acknowledge your inner critic’s fears and then move forward anyway. I think that’s the most loving, mindful, attentive approach. If I don’t acknowledge my inner critic, she only throws louder tantrums, drowning out my muse. She just needs a quick hug and a “thanks for keeping me safe.”
Keep writing. ps go team woo woo, intuition for the win! Namaste, Erica Rose Shannon
Aww, Erica, such lovely feedback. You’re making me blush.
And I agree with you—trying to avoid our inner critics makes them only louder. And they also get louder when we try to fight them. So, the only way is to acknowledge. I like your suggestion to thank and hug our inner critics. I’ll try to do that more often!
And yes, I’m happy to join team woo woo. It gives me more writing joy 🙂
Thanks so much for your lovely comment.
Henneke, what a lovely, heartfelt column. Thank you for sharing your evolving experience. And such beautiful comments from your readers. Writing with our ‘whole selves’ can be fascinatingly empowering. Yet we all have our inner critics we have to share real estate with. Sharing ourselves with strangers (in any forum) is quite daunting. Thanks for the boost to keep being authentic and put ourselves out there.
I used to think that I was the only one with such a shouty inner critic but after I started writing about my inner critic, I learned we all have to learn how to cooperate with our inner critics. Making friends with our inner critics is challenging but it’s such a worthwhile endeavor. It not only makes writing more joyful, it spills over in our lives, too.
I feel grateful for all the lovely comments here, including yours. Thank you, Michelle.
Dear Henneke,
When I read your articles, it seems to me that I not only learn because they are jewels that I have never found before, but also because the person who writes (you) is a great person. Thank you for sharing so much with your readers, for sharing a piece of yourself, hartelijk bedankt!
Claudia
Dear Claudia, I feel so lucky having such kind and generous readers. Thanks so much for your lovely comment. It means a lot to me. ♥️
Henneke, I strive to be more like you because you are so authentic. I am a firm believer that each of is unique and that should be celebrated. Of course, that may be my middle child of 7 syndrome speaking. 😀
In a world full of people pushing their idea of “right,” I adore the special uniqueness that is Henneke. That you care about your writing and your reader is evident in everything you do. So, thank you for being you. It’s pretty darn impressive.
I’m the middle one of three so not quite the same but I’m a firm believer, too—in celebrating our uniqueness, embracing our weirdness, and allowing ourselves to be ourselves.
Thank you so much for your heartfelt and generous comment, Cathy. Thank you for being here and for being you. ♥️
I love this, especially the “embracing our weirdness” —because my mom used to do that so well. Of course, back then we all were embarrassed by her weirdness, but now I celebrate her courage to be unique. Along with you, I have learned to embrace what makes me unique and oftentimes “weird” to the world around me!
I can imagine that it felt embarrassing when you were young. For me, I grew up with the advice “Act normal, you’re already weird enough.” It’s taken me a long time to embrace my weirdness but it feels much better to just be me. 🙂
Hi Henneke, I follow your blog from several years because what you write always resonates with me and it’s a precious source of inspiration and insight in my work, and not only. this post is no exception. I generally hate the word “secret”, but in this case, yes, I would say that you have come very close to the idea of secret of writing. In the sense that good writing is always something very personal and requires a true and deep connection with your self. Not an easy-to-implement-secret at all!!:-) Insightful to me: “When I ground myself in my body, I allow myself to be more playful, to try things out.”
Yes, so true: Good writing is personal. This is so true and so often missed. So much online content feels so impersonal to me.
Thank you for adding your thoughts, Attilio. I much appreciate it.
Dear Henneke, this was a very inspiring post!
Thank you for opening up and sharing your process. I love how you bring presence, intuition, and compassion to it, and how your intention is to connect, not impress, giving your readers permission and courage to be more themselves in whatever they’re putting out into the world. So, thank you.
Marta
I love how you put this, Marta: Giving readers permission and courage to be more themselves in whatever they’re putting out into the world.
Thank you!
What a soothing and soulful article. I felt like I was in a little rowboat with a full moon shining down and water gentle lapping at my side. Thank you for your bright and gentle heart x
What a lovely image, Terri! I’m happy to be together in your boat for a little while, admiring the moon and resting quietly.
Henneke, please continue to never, ever, ever give in to your inner critic! You’d be depriving the world of something so amazing that I’m struggling to put it into words. What an incredibly educational, inspiring and thoroughly enjoyable article! Thank you SO much!
Awww, Soul, you’re so lovely. Thank you.
You are one of the most amazing people I know. An inspiration in the writing journey and in life. 🥰
Awww, Kathy, thank you. ♥️ I’ve learned a lot from you, too. 🙏
I love this post! I sense that people are becoming more of themselves as they drop into the reality that we all have unique gifts to share with the world. Sharing yourself allows others to realise that they also have something more powerful to share when they are able to do the same. Great answer
Yes, so true. We all have unique gifts, and stories, and wisdom to share. Thank you for adding this, Jennifer.
Oh Henneke,
This makes my brain so calm and my body fully alive. Each word resonates with me so much so that my inner critic, I call her: Miss Rottenmeier. May be you know her from the story of »HEIDI« ⛰️?!
Miss Rottenmeier always puts me in a corset of shoulds and woulds and tststs. I feel her bony index finger raised at me. As if the finger would poke me like a sharp knife if I don’t write »properly« straight away. Her stiff words choke my throat:»You can’t write or speak like that….«
It creates narrowness and takes away the playground of my words.
And then there are humans like YOU who are reMinding me over and over again to embody my Me-Ness, my Self.
So Henneke, THANK YOU SO MUCH for this written piece of hearttouching humanness🙏🏻
Have a wonderfull one,
Ellen
Yes, Miss Rottenmeier can share her fears and doubts but don’t let her take the steering wheel. You do the driving, Ellen! ♥️
Thanks so much for stopping by and sharing your story. I appreciate it.
Dearest Henneke,
When I read what you have written I am transported to a different place. Upon arriving, I feel a magic in your written words.
Thank you, Bruce. That’s a lovely compliment.
I have the impression that if we let you write with interrupting, you will end up sharing the true secret of writing.
I don’t know whether I have found the true secret yet. I feel like I might be edging closer but can it ever be revealed?
And by the way, interruptions are good because they make me think and sharpen my ideas.
I like how you write and not in a rush to add AI to my desktop. Now mature in age do feel for young people who can live to age 100.
I just can’t imagine letting AI write my blog posts for me. Maybe AI could do some minor tasks. AI can write stories but AI can’t write my stories.
Exactly! AI is impersonal because it isn’t a real person and will never be. Your stories are always interesting Henneke! You manage to describe the world in a way that it feels like we can see it through your eyes. And we know we’ll learn something new and feel inspired!
That’s such lovely feedback. You know, I may still be underestimating the power of stories. Good to see you again, Elena. Thank you for stopping by.
Truly excellent. Thank you. Full of tips I can use in my own writing.
Thank you, Paul. Your comment means a lot to me.