I discovered Pinterest a bunch of years ago when I only managed to “pin” a picture of a small bathroom makeover. I didn’t understand Pinterest. All I wanted to do was bookmark a web page, so I left Pinterest alone like a bad outfit.
But then I had my first surgery and recovery took several weeks, so I became a Pinterest-aholic. I finally understood the boards. And how wonderful it was to virtually hoard–everything!
As I started obsessing about recipes on Pinterest, I noticed all these bloggers. WTF? And sometimes they were bragging about the money they were making by blogging. Another WTF? The stay-at-home mommy bloggers really irritated me. Perhaps, it was just my jealousy of their pre-existing financial freedom to stay home. Or even their ability to have kids. Not that I wanted either, but I sort of did. And neither was possible.
So, I studied them and considered creating a non-mommy blog to make money, but I couldn’t do what they did. I couldn’t be so incredibly happy to show off recipes or crafts with such precision. I didn’t want to cater to anyone for ratings. I had a job that already paid the bills. Not a career. Not professional satisfaction, but survival plus my weekends free.
So, I healed from my surgery and went back to work. Then, I had a bigger surgery and more recovery time. This round, I did more Pinterest-ing, but I also discovered WordPress. Whoa! A whole lot of people not just mommy blogging, but EVERYTHING blogging. It was overwhelming. I created a free site. Tried posting. Mostly deleting.
I finally healed and went back to work. I continued creating some occasional posts during my free-time. As time drifted and my interest waned, I just decided…blah. I shelved my WordPress site.
But I was unsettled. I was getting older. I had been cut apart, pieces removed. Soon, I might fully disappear. I wanted to exist before that could occur. I needed to write. And I was kind of lonely within my writing self, so I went back to WordPress where there were so many words and so much to consider.
I restarted my own page, added more posts, but remained hidden for over a year. I’d occasionally make my blog available, then I’d freak out and delete everything, then go hidden again. It was frightening to dip my toes into a community of writers that I wasn’t sure even knew I existed.
Somewhere between then and now, I stopped deleting my posts and resorting to my hiding status. I realized that blogging was a treadmill or an open path. Breaking free of the revolving fear of being seen, read, heard, or even worse, unnoticed was necessary to grow stronger as a writer.
I still cringe when I post anything. It’s frightening to expose any truth, any thought, any failure to the world.
There is not a whole lot of reason for my fear, because I’m not a star blogger, or even a twinkle from a far off galaxy writer.
But I am a writer who just needed to write on something other than a notebook and somewhere other than alone, and WordPress gave me the opportunity. The decision to write is mine.