I’ve created a website before. I was heartbroken and alone and I thought that I could write about getting through that. I thought that I could organise my pain into groups of 600 or less words and document the hilarious dating stories I knew were to come, and life as a Mum on her own in a big city.
As it turned out, I was more relieved than heartbroken, and dating wasn’t at all on my radar.
I wanted to date me for a while. Figure out what I wanted, what I enjoyed, where my favourite places to eat out were, what my favourite ways to spend weekends were.
I needed to find myself.
The time in between working full time, mum-ing alone in a city hours away from any family help/free babysitters, was limited. Any spare time I did find was taken up trying to figure out how to make ends meet and eat for any given week. I didn’t couldn’t find the headspace to figure out how to un-jumble my thoughts enough to put them down.
So the site sat there, empty.
I’ve always loved writing so when I mentioned all of this to to B last year and said I’d like to try the whole blogging thing again, he set everything up for me – organised domain names, taught me how to use WordPress. He gave me no room for excuses to wait anymore.
Writing changed everything for me.
Last year was a tough one. I look back at all of my old posts and they’re all so sad. Open. Vulnerable. I remember that state I was in when I wrote each one, and I remember the feelings of resolution that came with each time I hit publish.
The year got progressively worse – well, my state of mind did at least – until it was so bad I didn’t feel like I could write anymore.
I took a break. I regrouped.
And then I came back.
I felt strange writing again! But, I also felt that same rush of excitement as words fell from my fingertips onto the page and created something.
My head is always so busy. So full. When I write, I turn all my jumbled thoughts, anxieties, worries, into something that I feel is organised. Arrange them into something sort of beautiful. (When beautiful means too many words that sometimes don’t flow amazingly, but still come out being something that I made, and something that I’m sort of proud of).
When the words are all out, I feel clearer. Lighter. Able to figure out how to move forward, how to make a plan to be better, to feel better.
When I write, I feel accountable to my words, even if no one is reading them but me, and I make changes.
When I write, I find calm. I find resolution. I find peace.
And you’re always here.
When I hit publish and I’m proud of what I’ve written, or when I hit publish knowing what’s there is just a brain dump of words not at all creatively put or seamlessly flowy. You’re here.
The internet can be a dark and scary place. It’s not generally the place where it’s safe to share your insecurities. Not usually a safe place to openly admit an opinion that is different from the “norm”.
It can be ugly, filled with anger, hate, and people looking to disagree for the sake of disagreeing. Maybe they see it as the best way to give their hands a work out? Smashing out streams and streams of angry words and hitting post without a thought as to who it might affect.
That’s just what we’ve come to expect from so many parts of online.
That’s not this space though.
From the minute I began sharing, from the day I nervously hit Public on the writing I had been keeping private for months, I have found nothing but support.
When I write about worries, my anxiety or depression, I have found love, acceptance, encouragement, inspiration to get through. I have come across thanks for sharing, so others don’t feel so alone feeling what I feel.
When I have written about my struggles with my first son, I have found Mum’s willing to share their similar experiences to give me hope. I have found more love, more acceptance, more understanding.
My state of mind is about 968% more positive this year. My new years resolutions were a little more focussed this year and were all centred around my mental state, boundaries and letting go.
As a result, many of my posts this year are a bit more positive. Upbeat I might even dare to say.
I feel happier and I find that I want to write that down as much as I need to write down the sad.
When I have written about my good days, I have found a community equally as happy to share in my joy as they are to support me through my sadness.
When I have written long posts about the love that I have found and I’ve expected no one to be interested, I have found excitement.
I don’t have a grand conclusion that I’m leading up to. I guess I just wanted to say thank you.
Thank you for being here while I was writing before, for staying when I took a break, and for being here when I got back, ready to get right back into being my own personal cheer squad and support crew!
Thank you for being this amazing community so filled with love, encouragement and positivity.
Thank you for giving me a space to organise my thoughts, work through my worries, and celebrate my joy in a way that brings me happiness.
Thank you for taking time out of your lives to share in mine.