Over the past few weeks I had been thinking a lot about what to do with my blog. I have been blogging for more than five years and I’ve always enjoyed it. Only recently has the spark of it dulled a bit. I found myself not wanting to write anything. That was a surprise for me since I’ve always liked writing. Playing with words, drawing pictures with sentences. Telling stories.
But sometimes my heart wasn’t fully into it anymore. Something was missing. I felt pressure to write something in order to keep my blog up to date – without really wanting to do that. Pressure made entirely by me – no one else is to blame. So I stopped writing altogether and instead gave more thought to this blog journey.
Over and over again I realized that the posts I poured my heart into were the ones I enjoyed the most as well as being the ones that received the most responses. It’s almost as if my readers felt that this was the real me in those posts and I’ve hit a nerve with many of you.
I wonder where my heart was when writing those other posts and why I bothered in the first place. What was keeping me from being genuine and real? Where was the “real me” in those moments? It’s not that I want to hide - yes, I’m not always “main stream” – far from it -, I have rough edges and often queer thoughts. That’s who I am. But is there any valid reason not to show that?
This is my blog, I am the author of it. I decide what to show and tell, and I want it to be heartfelt, true and real. No apologies either if I don’t turn up on a regular schedule. Id rather be here less often but when I show up, it’s the real me.
You, my wonderful readers, each one of you simply deserve this.