Another blogger? Really?
Yes, really. I know, I know. But hear me out. It’s been this aspiring writer’s dream to publish for years, but I’ve never moved on it because I could never narrow down what to write about. So, I’m starting a blog so that I can write about whatever my heart desires and share it with YOU! Some things might be serious topics, others may be humorous and just for fun. Either way, this gives me a space to be my creative, awkward self and a space for you to enjoy that side of me!
I started writing in middle school. It started with a My Password Journal (and if you’re a 25-year-old female that says she doesn’t know what that is, you’re lying) that I wrote in multiple times a day simply because it was fun to say my password and unlock the journal. (No, I was not super cool and yes, I had a lot of time on my hands.) This created a beautiful habit that I have carried now for at least 12 years. I filled diaries, journals, and composition notebooks with words that were unprofound and probably pretty embarrassing if I were to read them today. But, that is what started it all. Through middle school and high school I wrote at least weekly about what was going on in my life. That sounds like a great habit to have, but I can assure you that those books are filed with (typical pre-teen awkwardness) the names of at least 10 different boys and my side of stories that built up or broke up friendships. At the time, keeping a record of these things was my outlet for relieving stress or at least what I thought was stress back then. I didn’t realize that I was building a habit and skill set that would remain with me for years.
In college, I continued writing. I found that the weeks I went without writing I struggled most. So, I filled daily journals, prayer journals, and wrote in the margins of self-help books just about as often as I studied my actual schoolwork. *Side note – that could be the reason I failed out of nursing school. Joking, kind of, but not really. Anyway, the point is that during those years, I had this writing hobby that allowed me to put my thoughts somewhere and process my actions. It also gave me something to look back at to help me remember those times and how precious (and kind of cringey) they were.
I continued to find reasons in my life to write. It was just a part of who I was.
Until August of 2018.
When my first husband passed away in August of 2018, the writing stopped. While we waited in the hospital, I found myself with a deep need to write down what was happening, but the words left me. I even tried to convince myself that it was my duty to write down what was happening, knowing that every detail of the events taking place could hold significant value in the future. I still have that journal. It has two pages filled front and back with the same sentence written 13 different ways. That was it. I realized my heart was too broken and I had lost the connection I had to writing, just as I had lost my husband over that two week span: slowly and unexpectedly. (Sorry, that was deep.)
To this day, I’ve been able to write, but not the way I use to. I don’t keep a journal of my life events or emotions. I start writing new projects and either put them down OR just scratch them completely. The habit I formed, the hobby I created for myself was damaged. The words I wrote were too vulnerable for me to write, edit, and reread – much less put out into the world for others like I had always dreamed of doing. It didn’t feel like the words represented me or my life.
But that’s changing. I’ve had reasons to write. I’ve had the desire to write this entire time, even when I thought I’d lost it. I recognize that the things I have written over the last year and a half are not too vulnerable, but represent who I am now. My life got weird for a little while, so why wouldn’t my writing reflect that? I used to be so articulate and eloquent with my words, and now it seems I’m more haphazard and honest, and that is okay.
I am writing this blog, because I want to share my life and my experience with others in a form of expression that I fell in love with long before life got so crazy. My words might be bold. My jokes might make you a little uncomfortable, but I hope you can see the sincerity in my writing. I hope you are able to find joy and comfort knowing that there are people in this world who don’t mind sharing the weird, awkward, uncomfortable things in life, because that is exactly what I’m going to do. I don’t want to sugar coat things. I’ve had great things happen in my life that I can and will write about, but I’ve also been through some crap and I’m not going to cover that up anymore.
So, buckle up, because I’ve got things to say and they might get just a little awkward.