Why do I blog?
This is a question I ask myself often. Almost daily. I think it is good to keep this internal dialogue going, to assess things on a regular basis, to figure out why it is I spend such a bulk of time here weaving words. Because, the thing is, I do not have tons of time. Like so many of you, I am constantly racing between morning and night, here and there, now and then. Moments become minutes and minutes become days and days pass on by and, well, life happens. It is important that I spend my time doing things that are important to me, that give me (or others) something meaningful.
So. I ask this question. As a way of keeping it real and keeping myself in line. Why do I blog? And, invariably, a string of answers come. True answers. I blog because it helps me excavate self in a world often dominated by other. I blog because it forces me to flex writing muscles and find my voice. I blog because it allows me to connect with people whom I otherwise would never meet.
These are good reasons, right? I think so. But they are not exhaustive. No. I blog for other reasons. Ones of which I was reminded yesterday.
I blog because I am insecure. Because I crave, and need, affirmation. Because feeling heard makes me feel less alone.
Honestly, these are not easy things to admit. They never are. Isn’t it much more compelling to be cool and confident, and utterly self-reliant? Isn’t it more ideal to be an adult, to be strong and sturdy, full of robust professional and personal integrity? Of course. I could pretend that I am this, that I have it all together, that I am the master of my universe, that all is consistently peachy.
But I am not this. And I don’t. And I’m not. And it isn’t.
Yesterday, I attended an amazing professional breakfast at the 21 Club (details to come) and then had a wonderful, if zany day with my girls. I saw a good friend and her daughter in the afternoon and then we ended the day with music class. By the time Husband and I finished dinner and I consumed my handful of candy corn, I was beat. Shredded with exhaustion. But I was also sad. A bit defeated.
And I couldn’t figure out why. And then I did. I realized that I was sad that I only got two comments on my blog post yesterday, a post of which I was plenty proud. Now I know that two comments (three – I got another one after I went to bed) is something, more than something. Once upon a time, when I just started blogging, I went several months without a comment. So, two or three, is something. But I have gotten spoiled, used to getting more, to hearing more voices, to seeing a conversation unfold in my space. And yesterday it didn’t really happen.
Which is fine. Which should be fine and often is. But yesterday, the doubts crept in, the insecurities alighted. I thought terrible things: I must have said something offensive, my writing has lost its punch, people no longer care. I also thought practical things: I do not comment much these days, so I can’t expect it in return. Sometimes, people love something and don’t say anything. This is life.
This morning, I woke up and continued to drag a bit. Questions swirled in my head. If this blogging gig is causing me anxiety, should I keep it up? There is enough stress in my life. And then I checked my email as I finagled my prenatal vitamin out of its container. And there was an email from a girl in Singapore.
I just stumbled upon your blog and I have to say that it’s a very interesting read. I love your stories, and as silly as this may sound, you are inspiring people from all over the world (Singapore included).
I’m still in the search of my happy-ever-after; your post “fear of the known” really struck a chord in me. I’m in my mid-20s, middle of my career, in love with this man (in a relationship, but haven’t said I love you yet) — and I keep on feeling lost, despite my many adventures. Thanks for being a voice, an inspiration, a part of the roster of the strong women I would like to be like when I grow up.
This email made me smile. It washed away much of the angst I am feeling. It reminded me of something important: That I am doing this for reasons I don’t even know. I am doing this to make people think, and feel, and realize that they are far from alone.
I am doing this to make myself think, and feel, and realize that I am far from alone.
So, this blog post? It’s part catharsis, part confession. There are many wonderful things going on in my life, but I have my moments of sadness and confusion and self-doubt. I am a week shy of thirty-two, but in many ways I am still that little girl. Wanting to be noticed. And loved. And needed.
(Aren’t we all this little girl?)
Thank you for listening. For being here even if you don’t, or can’t, leave a trail of words. For allowing me to be a metaphysical mess from time to time.
____________________________________
- Why do you blog?
- Do you need affirmation, praise, attention too? (Is this part of what it means to be human?)
- Have you ever felt down when you didn’t receive a lot of blog comments (or the equivalent)?
- Do you think that life entails a certain degree of insecurity?
- Do you have a hard time being vulnerable, admitting your own insecurities? Do you feel better when you do?
You should continue to blog because your readers love waking up to your words, even on days we don’t comment.
AGB is absolutely right. You are my first online stop every day, and that has been the case for more than a year now. I don’t see it changing any time soon, either.
Gale – Thank you. Meeting you, and blogging alongside you, has been one of the best prizes of this blogging gig. Your words serve as a salient reminder of just why I keep chugging here even when it doesn’t feel easy.
AGB – Thanks, you. Yesterday was a real treat. Hours (and fries and stickers) with a fellow pregnant bestie and her darling blondie? Pure magic. A tradition begins. And thank you for supporting me when I am a whiny toddler. It means a lot. xoxox
I am reading whether I am commenting or not. I have gotten behind on my blog reading so I have been reading and not commenting unless I feel truly drawn to say something unique.
I am a huge Mark Twain fan so the comment is one I have heard before. I was truly torn as I had found out the night before that my 11th grader would not be doing his research paper on Huck Finn – as had been the case for years – but on The Great Gatsby. To then read Twain on your blog and those words, I was just thrown back into my thoughts about the research paper.
Nicki – I totally understand that feeling of falling behind, on wanting to, but being unable to, comment frequently. That’s where I am too. Which is why I completely understand when people don’t comment. I guess this post is just evidence of the fact that sometimes, the self-criticism kicks in and when it does, I interpret silence in a way that makes me feel bad. This is no fun. But it does help to be open about this, to realize that all of us have these moments, these doubts, these utterly human aspects to us.
(Ah, Huck Finn. Loved it.)
Oh, how I resonate with your post this morning. I wrote something similar a few weeks ago about getting praise in a photography class. The pull of external validation is so strong. But so human. Thanks for putting it out there. xo
“The pull of external validation is so strong. But so human.” Indeed. How to revere the reality that we need to be validated without letting this need consume us? I don’t pretend to know. The power of praise is incredible, isn’t it? Thank you for making me realize that I am not the only one who needs validation and praise. Intellectually I know this, but it is very good, and comforting, to hear.
I think you have a sense of how resounding my YES is to these questions – of the strong identification I feel with all of this. Thank you for saying it so beautifully.
xo
There is indeed a immense power in the very human vulnerability that connects us if we let it. How is it that some days we feel almost invincible and then some days are just jagged? I don’t know. But thanks for asking with me. By the way, your post today was stunning. I encourage others to read it – http://www.adesignsovast.com/2010/09/a-mosaic-of-tiny-broken-pieces/ Good to know that I am not the only one who is not feeling perfectly strong and sturdy these days.
I read everyday! I look to you for validation as I struggle with anxiety and insecurity. Thank you for sharing your thoughts every day as they help with my own self reflection.
Amy – Thank you. I think the truth is that we all struggle with anxiety and insecurity. The question is how much, and how often, we are willing to admit this truth. I know that I go through cycles, cycles that are often patterned on my blog. For many days, I feel confidence and it is manifest in my words. But then. Days come, creeping upon me, and I am awash in doubt and uncertainty. I am realizing that this is so unbelievably human and am also realizing that it is so important for me to acknowledge the down spells. And when I do, like today, I am reminded that I am a member of a wonderful, if complicated species. It warms me to know that something I do here, whatever it is, helps you.
As someone who has been reading your blog for a few months now, yet never commented, I feel like I should speak up. I’ve really been enjoying your blog. I read a few blogs regularly that I really enjoy yet I rarely post a comment. So try not to take lack of comments as a sign that people are not reading and enjoying because I do not think it is. Though as someone who started blogging recently, I completely understand how nice it is to receive a comment.
Thank you for blogging. Congratulations on your pregnancy. I look forward to hearing about your journey with baby #3 on your blog (a comment I meant to write a few weeks ago on a different post. better late than never).
NTF – First of all, thank you for taking the time to leave your first comment here. Intellectually, I know that what you say is true, that the numbers are not necessarily indicative of interest. It helps for me to think back to school, to classes and professors I absolutely adored. More often than not, I sat there, at my desk scribbling away and saying absolutely nothing even when given the opportunity. My silence was never a reflection of lack of engagement. To the contrary, it was often evidence of the fact that I was thinking hard about what was being said.
Thank you for speaking up and for your well wishes. I look forward to visiting your blog!
Aidan: You are always my first stop in the morning. I always try to comment on your blog, but didn’t make it there yesterday. Anyway, I wanted you to know that I always read even though I don’t comment. I’ve felt what you described on and off through this blogging journey and somedays I am disappointed by the lack of comments, but I take comfort that I wrote something – hoping my posts will channel some energy toward my novel writing.
Rudri, I always appreciate your comments and it means a lot to know that you are reading even when you are unable to comment. I think the angst that I describe in this post is actually very common in blogging, but, in the moment, its universality doesn’t make it any easier, you know? And you mention something important here. Writing something, exploring an idea, does help keep the creative juices flowing, juices that are essential, so essential, for writing fiction. Thank you.
Thank you for your honesty. That honesty is what keeps me reading. I really enjoy your blog, but I can’t always read (any blog) every day. I don’t leave a comment on every post, but it doesn’t mean that I didn’t like it. Sometimes I don’t have the time, sometimes I’m reading from my phone, and sometimes I just can’t come up with something meaningful enough to write. But know that your words are important. Like the email you received shows, you are touching people all over the world in different ways and that is amazing. Thanks again!
Honesty is such an odd and hard and wonderful thing. I find that about these things it is so difficult to be purely honest, to fling myself out there, to be raw and vulnerable. But once I do these things, once I receive affirmation that I am not alone in my insecurities and neuroses, I feel so much better and lighter. I completely understand that people do not always have the time or inclination because this is my experience as a blog reader. I guess some days it is just hard to think rationally about these things. Thanks for chiming in here, Shannon.
I stumbled across this blog about a month ago, and i have been hooked since. I read it every day. I have never commented before, because i didn’t know if anyone really cared what i had to say, or my thoughts. But i love it. I’ve never really had an interest in writing, or wanting to “tell my story” so to speak. But i love it. I love hearing about your family and your experiences. I also want you to know that i did order your book on amazon.com, and am awaiting its delivery. I will make more of an effort to comment daily. I appreciate it! Thank You.
The strange and amazing thing about this world is that people DO care what you have to say. I do, at least. I think that is what makes blogging so compelling; That it is a place where people can commingle and speak, where conversation can happen, where ideas can fester. So, thank you for commenting. And thank you for ordering LIFE AFTER YES. I hope you love it!
I am relatively new to blogging and some of my posts are good and some are not – they’re just there. I feel disappointed that more people don’t read and comment on my blog, but I also know that I cannot expect instant gratification. I only want the followers for the connections – and also some sort of affirmation I think.
As I mentioned in my post, I blogged for several months without receiving comments. There was something oddly liberating about this because I wrote what I wanted to write and didn’t think too much about it. When the comments start to roll in (and they will for you, it’s a matter of time) it is easy to get sucked into this game where you write what you think people want to hear, what they will respond to. And? Invariably, people do not swoon over the posts you predict will have them swooning. There is no rhyme or reason in this world. Which, again, is liberating on some level because then we are back where we started, writing what moves us, not what we think will move others.
Yes, yes, a thousand times yes.
I think it is a natural reaction when you create something you are proud of to want to show it off to others. To point at it and say “I did that!” or “I made that!”.
I blog because I need to talk things out, to hash out the chaos that is inside my brain. And there is nothing quite like the feeling I get when I receive notification that I have a comment.
And yes, there is nothing quite as much of a let down as when you know you created a really good post, and it seems that nobody read it.
“I blog because I need to talk things out, to hash out the chaos that is inside my brain.” Exactly. Blogging is indeed a remarkable, if unique means of ordering the chaos that resides in our minds. And silence? It stings some times. It can be interpreted in so many ways. Silence can be beautiful, but it can also make us feel lonely and unheard, no? Thank you for your thoughtful comment. Especially today.
I read your blog as soon as I arrive at work each morning (productive use of time – I couldn’t agree more!). I love your honest and true words, which are hard to find these days. I also find that I relate to you in many ways and it’s reassuring to know that I’m not the only one out there just trying to figure it all out.
p.s. Happy (early) Birthday! People born in September are the best!!
No, you are certainly not the only one out there trying to figure it all out. When will we all realize that there is no such thing as figuring it all out?? It is wonderful to hear that reading this blog is part of your morning ritual. And, sorry to disappoint, but my birthday is actually in October (the 4th). Maybe we October kids are second best?
I love you and your blog. You get down and dirty into the thick of human emotion. It’s a beautiful thing. Happy almost-birthday, “soul sister.”
Thank you, Debra. Digging in emotional soil is tough, but transcendent work, huh? Thanks for the early bday wishes! I still owe you that call, btw. Soon!
Aidan,
Thank you for your honesty. Thank you for your voice. I love to read your blog and I read it every morning. Even if the comments are not there every day it doesn’t mean that we are not listening. I know I am!
Thank you, Ayala. It is good to know that you are here listening. Very good to know. Being heard is so essential, isn’t it? Why else do we write?
Hey, I’ll admit it. I’m a horrible commenter across the board- I visit blogs regularly but don’t leave a trace!!!! But I do read yours, every day, and recently read and LOVED your novel. My review is here if you’re interested in reading it:
http://book-chic.blogspot.com/2010/09/review-life-after-yes-by-aidan.html
Jonita – I just now read your review. Wow. Thank you. Not just for the praise. (We all know that I am human and crave praise. Witness this very post.) Thank you for reading my story and understanding it. When I created Quinn, I knew I was taking big risks. She is a complex creature, full of grays. But, ultimately, I think she is a good soul and stuffed with so many of the doubts and uncertainties that plague all of us. It means a great deal that you saw this. That my novel struck something in you. This review is itself a reminder of why I write, and why I love it so much. Thank you. Sincerely.
Aidan,
I love your blog. Funny thing is, often, I don’t comment because I’m afraid I will say something offensive, or I can’t find the right words or think someone else has already said it better.
Also, I sometimes forget that other people need affirmation, too. Just because I think someone is wonderful, doesn’t mean they know I think that. It’s good to tell people when we admire them or something they’ve done.
P.S. I just finished reading Life After Yes this weekend. I loved that, too.
I forget that there are so many reasons we don’t say things when we think them. There is indeed a great and complicated distance between thought and utterance. Also, I forget what you mention here, that people, most people even, need affirmation. Appearances of confidence are just that – appearances. Deep down, we are all shaky creatures, who seek reassurance that we are doing okay, better than okay, that we are not alone.
I am so thrilled you liked LAY! Feel free to spread the word if so inclined
Keep blogging! We’re reading. What you wrote yesterday was so real and then today, even more so. There is a very important reason you are blogging even if you don’t know that reason yet.
Your blog stands out because it is genuine. Your blog and Gale’s and a few others inspire me to read and then to write. I am anxious to hit the keyboard again and I don’t think I would feel as strongly about it without such amazing blogs out there.
Big fan:)
Christina – I’ve missed you and your words! Thank you for calling this place genuine. That is the highest of compliments and authenticity is something very important to me. And Gale? She’s fantastic, no? I can’t wait for you to hit the keyboard again!
Thank you.
Aidan,
It’s uncanny how often you write about things that I’ve been thinking about myself. I know we share certain aspects of our biographies (Yalies, lawyers – past and present, young mothers, and more) but it’s still spooky how often we are on the same page at the exact same time. You would probably never know that because I’ve never written that to you before. In fact, I rarely comment on blogs. Truthfully, I rarely read blogs. But I like and often identify strongly with yours. I am posting now because I have recently questioned my own need for external validation. For example, I am guilty of waiting for responses to my facebook updates. And when I post certain personal or emotional or even what I consider to be witty posts and don’t get feedback, it disappoints me sometimes. I’m working on validating myself more, and needing the outside affirmations of worth/love/respect/appreciation less. But I’m a work in progress. We all are. And sometimes all you need is just a tiny acknowledgement that someone knows you’re here. Well, we’re here, too.
Wow. We do have so much in common. I love this. One thing you say rings so true. We are all works in progress. Always will be. This fact, this reality, in my estimation, makes life interesting. How boring would it be if we all operated with robotic precision, if we weren’t all striving side by side for important things and good lives? As for the need for external validation, it is such a tricky thing, isn’t it? On the one hand, I think this need is utterly human, but on the other hand, we must keep this need under control. Particularly, I think as we raise little ones. I want to raise my girls to find joy in themselves and in their lives without hearing praise from others all the time. How do I do this? I don’t pretend to know. But I think about it and try every day as I imagine you do too.
Thank you for commenting today.
I so get this. I tell myself that I blog for myself, to hone my creativity and my writing skills, and for that delicious sense of community. But, even nearly a year into this business, I still get a little adrenaline rush when I get a new comment (and a little bit down on those days when the comments are fewer and farther between). So, yes, I crave that affirmation too. And maybe the affirmation’s part of the creative process and the community and maybe it’s just a virtual pat on the back. Is it good? I’m not sure, but I don’t think it’s bad. And you’re certainly not alone.
“…maybe the affirmation’s part of the creative process.” This is so interesting, Kristen, and something I hadn’t considered before. Maybe there is something about engaging others, about causing reactions, that is essential to the creative process. Because, at bottom, would we weave words if no one were around to read them? Maybe the passion to tell stories is connected to a desire to stir human emotions, to trigger realization in others. I think you are onto something here… Maybe this need, this craving, is not bad after all. Speaking of cravings, how goes the sour candy situation? I can’t stop with the candy pumpkins
The sour candy fixation lives on. I’m hoping to still have a full set of teeth by the time Baby #3 arrives!
I’ve actually considered turning off the comment option, just to see if I’d have the drive to keep blogging without it. But then I think of the great conversations that can start from even one comment, and I always decide to leave it on.
And I know that often I don’t comment just because I’m too tired or brain-dead to leave anything thoughtful, and I hate to leave something insipid. So I try to think that other people are the same, and that’s why they aren’t commenting, not because I’m boring!
So interesting because I thought just yesterday about turning the comments off. And I was torn because on the one hand it would eliminate the angst of which I speak here, but on the other hand it would also eliminate the exchange, the conversation and honestly that’s what I adore most about this blogging gig. No need to apologize about not commenting every day. I myself have been terrible about commenting of late; there are so many reasons, and really good ones, for not leaving comments. It is good though to be reminded of this, to realize that silence is not always sinister. Thank you, Louise!
i recognise that insecurity and the dialogue. I ask myself a lot about why I blog – it keeps me going on the path I’m happiest with for my writing.
I often read your posts before 7am with a bowl of cereal perched on my lap and a cup of tea in the other hand so I don’t always have the dexterity to comment!
Isn’t this inner dialogue so important? Without it, how are we to keep going in the direction that is most meaningful at the moment? I adore the image of you reading my words as you eat your cereal and drink your tea
I’m an aspiring writer/blogger and new to your blog, but when I read your post today I had to comment (something I don’t do often). Thank you so much for your honesty. I found it so refreshing and encouraging because, as you already know, it’s not easy to put your words out there on a regular basis, let alone try to build a success career from them. It’s like throwing a hook and bait into the water; you have no idea what you’ll catch. I love that you are brave and humble enough to share so eloquently. It’s very obvious that your intentions and work, in general, comes from a very good place. I’m so inspired and I look forward to reading your blog daily starting today (although I might not always post). Again, from one blogger to another, THANK YOU!
One more thing: I’m still really new to blogging but when I post what I think to be the most awesome, super hilarious, most intriguing blog post ever and become extremely disappointed when I don’t get the response I expected, I have to reminded myself why I love writing. Honestly, I believe even if I was the only literate being on this planet, I would still blog because I love it. It’s not about everyone else and their praise and adoration. I write because it’s a passion and makes up a big part of who I am. Receiving a hundred comments would be nice but it doesn’t change my purpose. I think you’d say the same too!
Kendria – Thank you for your thoughtful, and astute, comments. I love the fishing metaphor and think it is very compelling. You are right that when we blog, we are very much throwing our hook out there and waiting to see whether we get a nibble. And I could not agree more that so often it is the posts that we think are the most genius are often the ones that get the least response. There is very little predictability in this world. In some sense, this is good though because it really does bring it all back to us, the creators and why we create. We do it, really, because we love to and need to and not because of audience response. (Well, mostly!)
I don’t think you are that insecure. You are probably just more in touch with your insecure feelings and more able to articulate them.
I can’t think of any person I know who isn’t insecure. I guess insecurity is a human trait, just like other human tendencies such as being inconsistent. I think the problem lays more within to which degree you are insecure.
You are probably more secure than people who won’t even admit they are insecure. Sometimes, for instance, people express their insecurities by being defensive and they aren’t even aware of their defensiveness due to insecurities.
Fanfan – So interesting. You are not the first person to say that in excavating my insecurities, I actually come across as quite secure. I’m not sure about that, but I do think there is an immense power in owning who we are, in revering our uncertainties, in admitting that we are only human. I am consistently amazed by (and suspicious of) people who purport to have no insecurities. I do not buy it. Not for a minute. We are all insecure. That’s okay. That’s life. Thanks so much for chiming in today. Hope you continue to do so!
Aidan! I read your posts everyday, although I’d admit just like the others I’ve fallen behind in reading some. They have all caught my attention one way or the other, and opened my eyes to think outside the box. Thank you for inspiring me with your lovely words!! Keep up the good work in blogging!
Thank you, Monica. That I have opened your eyes even the tiniest bit is a profound compliment. Thank you.
Thank you for your honesty–your blog is one of the few that has made it into my morning routine of coffee, paper, walking the dog, blog reading
I too totally relate to your post–many times I go days with no comments and then someone, somewhere will mention that they read my blog and it touched them in some way–that is gold! I believe I would blog no matter what but was with any art form it is nice to be appreciated, validated and commented on! As always, thanks for putting it out there!
I love to know that I am part of your morning routines. I know just how sacred and splendid morning routines are, so this means a great deal. And isn’t it amazing that the moment we start doubting ourselves or our work, something happens, a sign that we should keep chugging, that we are reaching someone? Thanks for your words today.
Aidan,
I adore your blog. I feel like we have much in common and I come here regularly looking for bits of insight and connection (though I’ve been too shy to comment in the past).
I just finished law school, but I have no desire to practice law. At some point during my 1L year, I realized how much I loved to write and craft and create art — but I finished school anyway. I feel so much pressure to live a life that has some sort of external seal of approval, but your story gives me the strength to at least imagine a different future for myself.
I lost my mom to cancer this past year and I lost my dad during college, so I’m the only person I know to have lost both parents before turning 30. I actually found your blog while I was taking a break from school to help my mom through treatment, and I want you to know how much your site helped me through that tough time.
Thank you so much for your contribution here.
Ah, we must chat. About so many things. The secret desire to be something other than what’s expected. The need for that stamp of approval, but deepening motivation to live a life without such seals. I am so sorry to hear about your parents. Not sure how much you’ve read of this blog, but I too lost a parent to cancer. It is a loss that affects me every day, sometimes subtly, sometimes profoundly. That you found my words while being with your mother, that my words helped you in some small way, means the world. The absolute world.
This comment? A perfect reminder of why I am here doing this. A perfect reminder that my words are reaching people and doing something.
Thank you so much for writing these words, your words, today.
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I blog because I have stories to tell, memories to share and moments to preserve.
Better late than never – I am with AGB! You are the first website I go to when I get online (before gmail even!). These days I just don’t get a minute so I rarely comment, but I always love reading your posts and always look forward to them!
Love your honesty in your blog and your willingness to put yourself out there. Your readers get to know the real you and not just someone your publicist tells you to be.
I blog for a couple of reasons. I initially blogged because it would help me build my platform as an aspiring author. But as I have progressed, it has become a way to bounce ideas off others, share my experiences, and practice writing. It is a bit like self-discovery for me.I know I will go back and cringe at my first post but that is okay. I, too, get upset when no one comments but I look at my page visits and try to identify what posts they clicked on most.
However, I still want to write for me. I need to focus on the writing and content, making it better each time. The comments absolutely are the cherry on top, validating that we are worth something. I get that and it is hard to not want the comment flood.
Keep at it because we are right there with you.
Aidan,
I, like others, have fallen behind. Although, for me, it was physical limitations. I hope you know that we all love you.
: )
Hi Aidan, It has been a while. My reader is so full on a day-to-day basis, I confess that every Fri. I clear it out and am fully aware that I have missed out on so many great authors, such as yourself.( remember Rule 62, “Don’t take yourself too seriously” ) Now, that is not always the most natural thing to do.
I have just been through the same process, as it came time to renew my domain name ownership, I struggled as to viability of my blog. A few of my faithful encouraged me, and some little whipper,( From Dartmouth of all places, I know) (lol) was bent out of shape about my lack of ” Correct” grammatical structure. Which I addressed in a post titled The Slap. So, for year two I bought a computer, my last one was a Wang… Stop your laughing… Changed my site skin, and started to talk about my self in the third person… again with the laugh. So take heart dear one, this might happen to you if your lucky.
Now that I have waded through 63 comments, Half of which were yours, LOL I invite you to come on over and kick the tires of my new site and of course, leave a comment and share it with the world. You Make Bumby So Proud:)
As you know I was away last week celebrating and I’m sad that I missed this post-though that’s the beauty of blogging, when you find a moment you can always come back to your favourites. I read your writing Aidan because I identify with what you have to say, I understand and know it. To me that’s the amazing thing about blogging, it’s cutting boundaries and finding people just like you who are willing to listen, support and be a part of your life in some way. Writing is an important part, but the difference between being a writer and a blogger is a willingness to connect. It takes to a whole new level. And you are willing. I love that about you.
xo
I don’t blog but I can identify with “sending a message” and/or “reaching out” and not getting a response … this coincidently is happening now with my sphere of relations?
Whether it’s true or not; something I find helpful is to consider the following- Sometimes it’s universal not personal – yes there is a sprinkle of astrology seasoning this rationale – but also basic natural phenomena – for example my internet conncection has also been a little weird the past couple of days – a storm or hurricane whatever that was about nearby so on and so forth … meanwhile I’ve sent texts to my son and several friends and haven’t heard back!!? Life experience assures me that the tide will come in but that insecure aspect of my being does pout and worry … Thank you for your blog – I will make it a point to read&respond more often.
peace
I clicked on your site tonight specifically to find support, and this post really validated my mission. I completely agreed, empathized, and valued everything you said. As a current Ivy League student and daughter of an Ivy League mother (who attended during the early years of co-education), I love reading your blog to find validation in the everyday lives that we are carving out for ourselves.
Tonight, I heard for the first time some doubts and insecurities from my mom, about not having done enough with her life. I told her that raising three extremely successful children (while also being an active member of the community) is the most challenging job in the world, and she should be very proud of her accomplishments! Yet she still seemed to think that being a stay-at-home mom was a title unworthy of her degree. I disagreed.
And it got me thinking a lot about the support networks that people create for themselves, and how those networks have changed as society has changed. Because to me, I come across smart, sophisticated “stay-at-home moms” all the time on the interwebs, very honestly sharing their struggles and their revelations and their joys. And that made me realize how different it was for my mother not to have this virtual support network, and to not be able to share her own Ivy League insecurities with the world.
So, thank you Aidan, for sharing your stories with all of us faceless strangers. (Especially the ones who never comment
. Life would be a lot more lonely, and we would all have a lot more insecurities, without people like you.
@Jocelyn, Well said.
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