metamorphosis*

I fell so far off the good blogger train my concussion prevented me from coming back to you until just now. Believable excuse? Forgiveness given? Awesome.

So here’s what happened: I moved.

Moving is fun. It’s weird. And it’s certainly busy. I feel as if I’m finally settled in really well now, but then the few times I felt inspired to write I encountered something weird. Not unbelievable, but certainly some thoughts that I haven’t really been captivated by for a while, and to be honest they caught me off-guard. I started blogging firstly, to quite literally log my journeys. And then I really enjoyed it so much that it became something to log the journeys my mind was taking. And theeeennnn it become a connecting point between me and so many of my best friends who i wasn’t privileged enough to be able to see or converse with regularly. (i’ve met many cool bloggers this way that i only know through the interwebs, and my best friends pretty much all have blogs now that we all subscribe to) This whole environment of camaraderie led to freedom. Sure, the blog was different things to different people, but that’s kind of why i love it, and it was freedom–to say what i wanted, to be silly, to be real.

now i don’t tell people to go read my blog, but it’s posted places, and in fact each post updates to twitter, so it’s no secret. but sometimes i’ve been surprised to hear people who’ve read it, and when you log in and it gives you the numbers of people who have viewed the post and the 2 (if i’m lucky) people who have commented, it’s a strange feeling. knowing people know you while you have no idea who they are. that’s what hit me after moving here.

i don’t know anyone.

it’s amazing, and such a great opportunity for growth, but goodness it’s daunting. like being back in middle school all over again, but bigger. i started to get really nervous, like what if people found my blog and then actually read it. what would they think? would i ever know? or would there just be people who knew me, people who had a part of me without me ever knowing? i experienced self-consciousness and doubt, the likes of which i haven’t really seen since high school. completely unfounded, yes, but discouraging.

so that friends, is pretty much why i haven’t been blogging. i’m afraid. because when i write, it’s me. and sometimes it’s dumb and sometimes pointless and sometimes excessive, but it’s always honest and it’s a little piece of me that gets shared with everyone else whether they see value in it or not. i’m going to be consistent again, because i know that’s what i’m called to do, but just know that i love you, oh unidentified reader, because sharing with you is kind of scary.

*Metamorphosis by Ovid is one of the weirdest things i had to read in college.

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4 thoughts on “metamorphosis*

  1. I second Casey’s comment :) Plus, wanted to let you know I totally identify. That’s why I try very hard to remember that writing is for me and about me, not really for those out there reading. At least, that’s why I started my blog – because it gives me an outlet. Thanks for sharing friend!

  2. I also agree with Casey! Thank you for blogging because I don’t just read them but rather I hear them in my mind’s eye (or is that ear?) and I really do love to hear your voice and your perspective! Keep them coming – pppplllleeeaaaassseee! I love you…

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