My Very First Blog Post was yesterday. I did it. And I posted it to facebook. I posted the post. That means serious business, folks.
I always thought I’d launch my blog with something funny and irreverent. Something like “I’M A GOOD FOR NOTHING HOARDER” and then I’d post pics of all the things I can’t get rid of like my 8th grade choir dress with a broken zipper and the shoes I bought in London that I haven’t worn in 8 years that I am keeping JUST IN CASE someone needs pointy-toed black and white checkered 3-inch heels. And we’d laugh. “How clever!” That was how I was supposed to begin my journey into the blogging world.
(I will probably end up writing that post someday, just FYI. Hoarding = great material.)
But instead I was so serious. I was so calm. Very unlike myself. “I gave myself the mornings.” “A Time for Writing and Reflection.” What am I, an essayist?
I’ve teetered between the contemplative thoughtful serious and the silly sassy entertaining. Both are absolutely me. Both conflict.
And this is why it took me so long to start a blog. I’ve toyed with the idea for years. Years. I’ve researched and read up on blogging. Have a clear voice, they said. Have a niche. Clearly define yourself.
But I was always too many things. Too many contradictions.
You’re funny serious!
A people-person introvert!
So clear-headed and moody!
So I never did it. Fear kept me from taking the plunge.
And though I was interested in blogging, I’d pretty much rejected writing as a whole. Mostly because my entire life my mother has been incessantly complimenting my abilities as a writer, though I can’t even remember what of mine she’d ever read. That fourth grade report on The Alamo? But nevertheless, the idea was planted in her head that I was “good at writing” so I, being human, avoided writing at all costs.
And then I got married and my husband starts saying I’m a good writer. I’m not! How do you know? Just because I cry a lot and have a journal doesn’t mean I’m a good writer!
Well here I am, writing. Publicly.
My thoughts, my life, my ideas.
And you know what, it’s not so bad. Mom, you were right- I like this creative space. I’ve resisted too long.
So now that I write, all that’s left to do is trust. Trust you. I’m very moody. I’m also funny sometimes. Do I trust you to accept the contradiction? Will you buy it? Will you really believe that I can tenderly pour my heart out AND make you belly laugh?
Reading it all back, it seems so silly.
Of course you will.
Because you are human. Because you are supportive. Because you yourself are a contradiction.
And because you are nosy. I mean, when YOU start a blog that details the ins and outs of your thoughts and life, I will read it. I will read every post and stalk your personal life and I probably won’t even comment. I just think people are interesting. People’s thoughts are interesting. Lives are interesting. Opinions are interesting.
And I think you and I are a lot alike.