When You Don’t Want Certain People to Know You’re Writing

A writer I know once confided, quietly:

“I don’t want people to know I’m writing.”

I say writer because that’s exactly what she is, even if she isn’t ready for others to know it yet.

Maybe it’s a sibling who gets competitive.
A coworker who once scoffed at creative work.
An ex you’d rather not imagine reading your heart on the page.
Maybe it’s family, especially if your story draws from personal experience.

If you don’t want people to know you’re writing, that’s okay. You’re allowed to protect your creative process. But carrying it entirely alone can get heavy. Here’s how to honor your boundaries while still letting a trusted circle support you along the way.

Privacy Isn’t Secrecy: It’s Protection

There’s a difference between secrecy and privacy.

Secrecy says, “This isn’t safe.”
Privacy says, “This is mine right now.”

If you’re keeping your work quiet, it might be because the story is still forming, or you’re not ready to field questions at the next family gathering. That’s more than fair.

Think of your draft like a seed underground. It doesn’t need exposure to grow; it needs warmth, patience, and the right environment. A small, trusted circle can be part of that environment, offering shelter without spotlight.

Choose Who Gets a Key (and Who Doesn’t)

You don’t owe anyone your process. You don’t even have to tell them that you’re writing.

Choose your audience with intention:

One writing friend who celebrates your pages, not just your wins.A thoughtful critique partner who understands timing and consent.A quiet space where showing up matters more than performing.

The people closest to us sometimes struggle to understand our writing life. They know the version of you who replies quickly, leads meetings, folds laundry. They may not yet know the version who slips into imaginary worlds. That’s okay. You’re growing. And growth needs space.

The Hidden Cost of Doing It Alone

Protecting your work is wise. Total isolation, though, can backfire. It often leads to:

Creative lonelinessRising self-doubtStalled momentum 

The sweet spot? Private, not secret.

Share selectively. Protect the rest. Let others carry the parts that feel too heavy to hold alone.

What a Good Writing Community Quietly Gives You

A healthy community doesn’t demand visibility; it offers support:

Accountability without pressure: “Are you writing today?” can be enough.Momentum through presence: Co-writing sessions quiet the noise and get you to the page.Perspective you can trust: Thoughtful readers help you see the forest and the trees.Encouragement on hard days: A simple “keep going” right when you need it.Respect for boundaries: You choose what (if anything) to share, and when.

You don’t need a crowd. You need a circle.

If You’d Rather Stay Under the Radar (For Now)

Try these gentle approaches to write privately while still feeling supported:

Block your calendar as “focus time.” No explanation required.Use a pseudonym or separate account if you share anything publicly.Write offline when the internet makes you self-conscious.Keep a short “worries journal” to park the what-ifs and free your drafting brain.Join a low-pressure writing space where showing up is the win and sharing is always optional.

If someone stumbles across your work before you’re ready?
They don’t get to decide its value.

When Feedback Misses the Process

Well-meaning friends and family may be eager to read your work, but their feedback often comes from a different place than what a writer truly needs. Non-writers tend to approach a draft as if it were a finished product rather than a work in progress, which can result in comments that feel confusing, blunt, or unintentionally discouraging. This doesn’t mean they don’t care; it simply means they aren’t equipped to see the layers of process behind the page.

Editors, critique partners, and fellow writers in your circle understand that a draft is fluid. They know how to ask the right questions, respect timing, and offer feedback that strengthens rather than stalls your momentum. While it may be tempting to hand early pages to loved ones, save that step for later, when the work is more polished and closer to publication. Until then, seek out responses from people who understand the writing journey and can help you move the story forward with care.

Just keep writing. Let people be surprised, or let them never find out. That is your call.

The writing comes first. Always.

And if you ever crave a quiet place to write among others who understand this balance – privacy and companionship – you don’t have to look far. Spaces like the Mindful Writing Community exist for exactly this reason: to give you company without intrusion, encouragement without expectation.

Find your people. Keep your boundaries. And keep going.