Why do I blog?

A good question. An important one. One I think about constantly.

To be frank, this is still something I’m trying to figure out – why I choose to scatter bits of my being into the ether for people to pick up, and interpret. Why I opt to be vulnerable about things in my life. Why I decide to reveal personal aspects of my life.

After much time pondering this one, I’ve come to no ready answers. I’m still largely confused about the essence of my connection to this place, about why I feel so drawn to this odd little corner of the vast cyberworld. But I do have some thoughts:

I blog to process.

I come here to process things in my life. To make sense of moments – happy, hard – with my kids, my husband, my self, the world.

I blog to remember.

I write stories and post pictures so that I can, and will, remember my days. I love the idea that I will be able to go back and remember that silly or serious moment, that my girls might one day read these words and get a glimpse of who I was, and who they were.

I blog to connect.

Writing? Parenting? Living? These are very often lonely affairs. One of the best parts of blogging has been encountering kindred thinkers and writers and people, creatures whom I would never have a chance to interact with otherwise.

I blog to write.

At the end of the day, blogging is an important way for me to flex my writing muscles and find my voice. Blogging keeps me from getting blocked; there is always something to think about, to write about, to explore.

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