Why I Blog
November 11, 2015, 10:30 am
Filed under: Uncategorized

I started blogging on Livejournal when I was in high school. Everyone was doing it. We would write about hating our parents, hating school, hating society. We would post quiz after quiz dissecting our deepest emotions. When we got fancy and digital cameras became a thing, we would post mountains of pictures of our faces. Selfie wasn’t even a word back then, kiddos.

It seems so weird to think about it. How that’s where this really started.

But even weirder, because people read it.

In college, I was an English major. I was a lit girl. I was not a creative writing person, though I kept company with them.

One semester, I took a intro to writing non-fiction course. I did just okay in it. My style of writing isn’t super ideal for academic eyes. My sentences are short. I use all of the commas. I write colloquially.

I don’t believe in paragraphs.

But I gained something very valuable in that class. I gained a voice. I’m a complicated person who was never any good at therapy. I didn’t know how to talk about how I was feeling, about things that had happened to me, about how I felt about things happening to me.

I gained this voice in college.

I graduated. I got married.

I had a baby.

I battled demons, the whole time.

I read blog after blog of these courageous women battling along side of me. They were absolute beacons. I would clutch their words like the hem of my mother’s dress. How did they do it? How did they harness the words to bring such light to a dark world?

Words swirled around in my head, colliding with one another. I would try to gather my thoughts on my Livejournal but it was too familiar, too ancient, too used.

I started this blog. My first posts were tongue-in-cheek–snarky–sloppy. But I started this blog.

Hardly anyone read my first posts. I don’t do self-promotion very well and just getting the words out of my head seemed enough. Just typing out my stories was enough.
It’s still enough.

That will always be the heart of why I do this; getting the stories out of my head. Being able to sit back in my chair, read the words and make some damn sense of what has happened to me.

It’s therapy.

It’s church.

It’s everything.

But, for some reason now, people are reading what I write. They are sharing it with their friends. They are publishing it. I am getting messages from people who I have never met, telling me about how my writing has made them say the two magic words that anyone wants to hear,

“Me too.”

When I would read those “big” bloggers I always thought of them as that beacon. As a lighthouse on the cliffs, shining their light out to guide us lost souls home. I never thought that perhaps that light was a help-signal.

I’m here.

I’m still here.

Come stand here and be safe with me. I’m lonely and need a friend. I need to know someone sees what I see and feels what I feel. Just one will do. One ship.

Whether you write for 2 people, 100 people, 1,000 people; whether you are aware of what you are doing; whether you are just dinking around on Livejournal; someone out there will read your words, sit back and say, “Me too.”

And that

is why

I blog.


1 Comment so far
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Yes. To all of this.

Comment by Jenna Hatfield

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