200 Things I’ve Learnt from Blogging
- Ranjani
- 4 days ago
- 7 min read
Post 201: A Love Letter to This Journey
200 blog posts. I’m pausing for a moment. Taking it in. Not just the number. But the life between each post. The invisible thread that stitched words into stories, ideas into impact, and thoughts into transformation.
This isn’t just my 200th blog post. This is a time capsule of who I’ve been, who I became, and everything I’m still unfolding into. Today, I want to share 200 things I’ve learnt from blogging — and I don’t mean just algorithms and SEO. I mean the real stuff. The life stuff. The messy, beautiful, soul-altering things that crept in while I was just trying to write.
🫶🏽 First, a little thank you
To my husband, thank you for the coffees, the pep talks, the way you’ve always made space for me to dream. You saw the glow in my eyes when I spoke about my next post — and you never once made me feel like it was “just a blog.” You made me feel like it mattered. Because it does. To my little light, my son — thank you for being the heartbeat behind so many of my stories. Every curious question, every tiny drawing on my notebooks, every time I thought, “I should write about this!” — you’ve been my muse in ways you’ll only understand someday. To my friends and family, thank you for reading, sharing, cheering, and believing — even before there was anything to believe in. You helped me feel seen. And now — 200 lessons, big and small, raw and honest:
🌱 Lessons in Starting
Starting is the bravest thing I’ve ever done.
You don’t need to know everything before you begin.
Done is better than perfect.
Your first post will make you cringe later — that means you’ve grown.
People respect your courage more than your perfection.
Even one reader counts. Even if it’s your mom.
You’ll never be “ready.” Start anyway.
The first blog name isn’t always the final one — and that’s okay.
Saying “I’m a blogger” out loud is empowering.
You can teach yourself anything with Google and stubbornness.
Lessons in Writing
Writer’s block is just fear in disguise.
Your voice is your magic.
No one can write your story better than you.
The way you see the world is a gift. Share it.
Write like you’re writing to a friend, not the internet.
Your weird quirks? They’re your brand.
You don’t need fancy words to move people.
Writing heals more than therapy sometimes.
Some posts flow like a song. Others fight you. Write both.
Consistency > bursts of inspiration.
Lessons in Creativity
Inspiration is everywhere — walks, chats, silence.
Breaks are part of the creative process.
Your ideas don’t run out. They evolve.
Instagram is not your competition. Your inner critic is.
Comparison is a liar. Don’t listen.
Not everything has to go viral to be valuable.
People love real more than polished.
Boring days birth beautiful reflections.
You don’t need to follow trends to stay relevant.
Creating for joy brings better results than creating for claps.
Lessons in Growth
SEO can be sexy — when you’re not scared of it.
Analytics are useful, but not everything.
One kind DM > 10,000 likes.
Your audience finds you when you're truly you.
It’s okay to pivot.
The niche you resist might be the one you need.
Growth is slow. But real.
Some posts take months to find their moment.
People return for your energy, not just your content.
Email lists are gold — start one.
Lessons in Connection
Readers become friends.
Writers become soul sisters.
Comments can make your whole week.
The internet isn’t all doom — there’s real love here.
DMs can bring tears.
One reader saying “I needed this” is enough.
You never know who’s silently reading.
Readers are rooting for you, even when they’re quiet.
People can feel your intention through the screen.
The more you give, the more you receive.
Lessons in Struggle
Some days, the words don’t come.
Some months, no one reads.
You’ll doubt your purpose.
You’ll want to quit.
You’ll feel invisible.
You’ll feel too much, and too little, at the same time.
You’ll question if anyone cares.
You’ll compare your chapter 5 to someone’s chapter 50.
You’ll learn to keep showing up anyway.
You’ll realise resilience is your real flex.
Lessons in Joy
Publishing a post still feels like magic.
Seeing your words out in the world = instant dopamine.
Creativity makes life more colorful.
There’s deep joy in helping someone you’ve never met.
Blogging gives your days rhythm.
Your blog is your safe space.
Every blog photo has a memory behind it.
Readers remember your voice, not your views.
Writing about a moment makes it eternal.
You’re doing something that fills your soul — that’s rare.
71–100: Lessons from Everyday Life
A walk clears more than your head — it clears your heart.
People don’t notice typos as much as you think they do.
Your best ideas come when you're doing the dishes.
You can write on your phone in the middle of a grocery line.
A 15-minute power nap counts as research.
You’ll always forget the “brilliant idea” if you don’t jot it down.
Canva is a gift from the creative heavens.
Wearing lipstick while writing changes the vibe.
Music can shift your entire writing energy.
Pajamas and productivity can go hand in hand.
You can have a writing day and a messy house — both are valid.
“Later” often means “never” unless you schedule it.
Writing after a long cry hits different.
Most days, tea is the actual co-author.
Some blogs are born from chaos, not calm.
Writing when you’re angry? Fire.
Writing when you’re in love with life? Magic.
Blogging helps you see your own growth.
A good title can carry an average post.
But good content can survive a meh title.
Your intuition is smarter than the algorithm.
People don’t need perfect. They need present.
Don’t delete that draft — its time may come.
Save everything. Even the junk.
A post from 2 years ago might go viral tomorrow.
You are allowed to outgrow your old content.
Nobody knows your “off days” unless you tell them.
The best blogs feel like heart-to-heart chats.
You can always write your way back to yourself.
The blog is your forever home, even when the world feels loud.
101–130: Lessons from the Heart
Vulnerability attracts kind people.
You can’t please everyone — and that’s freedom.
Readers know when you’re being real.
Pain transforms into poetry if you let it.
The posts you’re most scared to publish? Usually the ones that change lives.
The blog becomes your journal, just more poetic.
Your words can outlive your moods.
Blogging gives you language for what you never knew you felt.
Not every post needs to be deep — lightness heals too.
Humor is medicine. Use it often.
You’re not too old. You’re not too young. You’re right on time.
Your messy story might be someone’s survival guide.
You’re allowed to change your opinion publicly.
You’re allowed to write for yourself first.
Silence is part of the creative cycle.
It’s okay to take breaks. You’re not a machine.
The world won’t end if you skip a post.
Coming back is always an option.
You’re never “behind” in your own journey.
Your voice matters even when your confidence doesn’t.
Writing heals wounds you didn’t know were still open.
Gratitude deepens your writing.
Celebrate your little wins.
The right readers will find you.
You don’t have to go viral to make a difference.
Numbers don’t measure impact.
You already are someone’s favorite writer.
You don’t need credentials to be inspiring.
Confidence grows by doing.
You are the magic you’re trying to share.
131–160: Lessons from the Hustle
Batching content = sanity saver.
Repurposing old posts is a power move.
Evergreen content keeps giving.
Blog series are gold for engagement.
A well-written “About Me” page makes people stay.
Headlines matter. But heart matters more.
CTAs should feel like gentle nudges, not loud demands.
Add value, not noise.
Replying to comments builds loyalty.
Your blog is a brand, whether you planned it or not.
Boundaries = sustainability.
You don’t need to be everywhere.
Quality > quantity — every time.
Protect your energy.
Collaborate, don’t compete.
Celebrate others often.
Choose tools that simplify, not overwhelm.
Say no to brands that don’t align.
You don’t owe anyone your creative energy.
Stay true to your why.
Blog income is real — and powerful.
Affiliate links can be soulful too.
Your content has value. Charge accordingly.
You don’t need to discount yourself to grow.
Every blogger has imposter syndrome.
Consistency builds trust.
The algorithm isn’t your enemy. It's just a tool.
You don’t have to hustle hard. You can flow.
You’re allowed to make money doing what you love.
And you absolutely should.
161–200: Soulful Truths You’ll Never Forget
Your blog is your legacy.
You’re braver than you think.
The world needs your softness.
It’s okay to evolve.
You’re not for everyone — and that’s beautiful.
Rest is part of the work.
Your rhythm matters more than the calendar.
Write when you’re lit up.
Write when you’re breaking down.
Just — keep — writing.
You can do hard things, like starting at zero again.
Perfection is boring.
Honesty is electric.
Magic lives in your everyday.
You’re more consistent than you give yourself credit for.
Every blog post is a little miracle.
Creativity is sacred.
You are allowed to be multi-passionate.
Every time you click “publish,” you’re choosing courage.
You’re living proof that dreams work.
Writing is an act of faith.
Your blog might outlive trends.
Kindness always wins.
Blogging is resistance.
Blogging is devotion.
Blogging is your truth in pixels.
This isn’t just content. It’s your heart.
You’re inspiring people just by being here.
Keep going. Someone out there needs what only you can say.
You are more than enough — right now, as you are.
Words are power.
Words are healing.
Words are connection.
Words are a revolution.
You are allowed to call yourself a writer.
You’re not small — you’re starting sparks.
You’ve come so far.
And you’re only just getting started.
Your story is not over.
This is not the end. This is chapter 200 — and it’s glowing.
This blog — my little space on the internet — has been more than a project. It’s been my mirror, my therapy, my diary, my rebellion, my offering. It’s taught me patience. It’s taught me courage. It’s taught me that I can live a life doing what I love.
To every person who has clicked, read, commented, messaged, or even just paused on something I wrote — thank you. You made me feel seen. You made this worth it.
To my family — my pillars — this blog breathes because you stood beside me while I built it. Here’s to the first 200. Here’s to the messy, marvelous, unfolding that’s still to come.
With all my heart,
Ranjani 🕊