Nobody needs another relatable take.
But maybe you need this one.
I have been sitting on two pieces of writing for weeks now. Both are half-finished, both are stuck in that limbo where I know what I’m trying to say, but I’m convinced no one will get it. Or worse, they’ll misunderstand it. So I’ve been rewriting them. Adding more “I think” instead of “this is.” Trying to water down the sharp parts that might be too honest, too opinionated, or not relatable enough.
Last night, I had to sit with an uncomfortable truth that I’ve been confusing two very different things.
There’s this cultural obsession with relatability right now. Everything has to be palatable and approachable, something you can nod along to while scrolling. Almost every creator is optimising for clicks, and I was unfortunately caught in the web.
I started thinking that if my idea wasn’t something most people had experienced or could immediately recognize themselves in, it wasn’t worth sharing. So I kept rewriting. Trying to translate my actual thoughts into something more digestible.
But this wasn’t how I had set out to begin. Rather than relatability, I had hoped for understanding, but the line had blurred right in front of me, and I only just realised it.
You see, relatability is comfortable. It’s the feeling of “oh yes, me too, I’ve been there.” It requires the reader to have lived your exact experience or thought your exact thoughts. It’s a narrow gate that’s exhausting to chase because not everyone will have walked your specific path, and that’s life.
Understanding, though? Understanding is different. Understanding is when someone reads what you’ve written and thinks: “I haven’t lived that, but I get why you feel that way.” It’s when they can follow the logic of your experience even if the experience itself is foreign to them. It’s wider. It’s kinder. And it requires less performance.
I think that’s where I got stuck. I was so worried about whether people would relate to my overthinking, my contradictions, and my half-formed thoughts that I stopped just sharing it. I kept waiting for the most perfect moment to share, and that might never come.
But I am choosing to stop trying to be relatable, so I am writing this.
I am no longer learning to translate myself into someone else’s language. I’m just speaking my mind and trusting that if it lands, it lands, and if it doesn’t, that’s okay, too.
The craze to be relatable at all times is just another form of overthinking. It’s us trying to make ourselves smaller so we fit into more spaces. But the spaces that matter? They’re looking for people who are unafraid to take up the room they actually occupy. I have learned that perfect relatability is a myth we have all agreed to chase, but understanding is where we find solace.
So, I choose understanding.
Here’s what I want to tell you.
Stop editing yourself for approval you may never get. Right now, you are probably doing what I have been doing. You are waiting. Waiting for your idea to be relatable enough. Waiting for the perfect framing. Waiting for the moment when you are sure everyone will understand and no one will judge.
The truth is, that moment doesn’t exist.
And more importantly, it shouldn’t be the condition for you to speak.
I am learning, but most importantly, I am sharing this process, because maybe you need to hear it too.
The world doesn’t need another watered-down version of your truth. It needs your actual voice, even if it’s messy or incomplete. The people who need to hear what you have to say aren’t looking for relatability. They are looking for honesty. They are looking for someone brave enough to say the thing that no one else is saying. And maybe, just maybe, they are looking for understanding.
The spaces that matter. The conversations that move people. The work that changes minds, the ideas that stick with us. They all started with someone brave enough to say something that wasn’t relatable to everyone.
So, I implore you.
Share it the way you actually think it. Imperfectly, loudly, and even incoherently, and trust that the people who are meant to understand you will.