First things first, for this and all future posts, a disclaimer: I’m short-story-long.
I genuinely don’t think it’s a good idea to start a blog. For one thing, another blog is white noise. And for a second, I’m currently nudging my child’s little fingers away from the keyboard between every two letters typed. I’ve a pretty nasty case of failure fear, which is why I don’t do anything I don’t have at least some natural skill for (e.g. every sport and musical instrument in existence). This is paired with a dysfunctional need for recognition, approval, and affirmation, which I haven’t managed to rid myself of just yet. I’ve spent six months repeatedly cross examining my motives for doing this. To be honest, they’re still not super clear. But this is the resolution I’ve come to:
This blog is not for you. Or anyone who may ever read this. This blog is not for being read. It’s not for making myself heard, it’s not for establishing a platform, and it’s not for affecting change. I want those things, but that’s not what this blog is for.
This blog is for me. It’s for me to process life. It’s for me to find words to get what’s in me out. It’s for me to find a moment, or moments, crammed between diaper changes, temper tantrums, sloppy kisses, textbook chapters, exhilarating (aka exhausting) learning, endless meetings and emails and phone calls and appointments and paperwork, aaaaand not enough stolen showers, to insert a little creativity, and hopefully self-compassion, into my life. (Check out that run-on sentence; self-compassion starting… now.) I’m way too busy to find time for this, which is just why I need to find time for this. I’m way too full of self-criticism to allow myself to do this, which is, again, why I need to do this. I need to figure out how to love me (ugh) and that requires taking me out of me and getting a good, kind look at me.
I really don’t know what this space will be filled with. Where I am, Here in the World, there’s lots of things. I am lots of things. And, frankly, I’m just figuring sh*t out.