I’ve been inside my head for months now. It’s made me a bit paralysed about writing stuff.
In part, I think it’s because I’ve been reading a lot of blogs. And I mean A. Lot. Of. Blogs. On one hand, I feel so squishy and warm inside about being accepted with open arms into a blogging community full of people I’m so totally digging and admiring… that’s the up side. The down side is I’ve been feeling a bit like I don’t belong with them. Because I haven’t got the talent. Because it’s very intimidating trying to sit with the cool kids at the lunch table when you’re new. And there are so, soooooo many of them…
But I’ve been trying to reason with myself that this is not a competition or a race. Sharing thoughts, and ideas, tidbits of our daily lives shows me that for in all the ways we are different, really, we’re all the same. That everyone has his or her own particular voice and style… that there’s room for everyone. I’m good at letting my mojo get away from me, and I subsequently self-sabbotage my efforts in whatever it is I’m doing.
The trouble is, I don’t know what I’m doing. And I’m not sure why I’m even doing it. And I’m not sure that I’m doing it very well either, which is a huge derailing factor for a person like me. If I feel like I’ll be a failure at something, I’m very reluctant to try. (I am SO NOT PROUD of that character flaw at all. Ack.) But I’m trying to remember that more often than not, it’s because I love it so much.
I had a business for several years that I ran from home. It was an online gift-basket business, and I was very proud of it. I knew it was good. I could tell it was, and because I had repeat business, and people telling me how lovely the items were, so I felt sure of myself. Of my efforts. Which is good when you’re self-employed, because you don’t have a boss to tell you when you’re doing a good job.
Blogging in and of itself is much the same only, without the feedback, it can feel like everything you say falls on deaf ears (or blind eyes?) and one has to stay pumped simply by one’s own say-so. This is a tricky thing to maintain.
I find it quite difficult to write something on a daily basis, while at the same time taking care of my children the best way I can, keeping them happy and fed and out of harms way (which is exhausting) as well as keeping the house in some kind of order that pleases me (professional perfectionist here) AND the shopping, AND the never-ending laundry, AND the cooking… and by myself. Lately, when I try to carve out some time to write things down, I feel like what I might have to say will be trite, or silly, or useless… so really, what is the fucking point?
I worry that what I write won’t be interesting. Or funny. [Looks down, kicks stone with toe...] I worry about shaming my parents, or about what some of my friends might think of me if I wrote honestly about some scandalous daring pervy ideas swirling around in my head… but you can’t be all things to all people. I KNOW I’m a pleaser. I want to make people happy. And it’s awfully nice to be liked…
The point is to do it because I like it. I’m a grown-up… kinda. I should just be a big girl and write what I want to write. So I will.
Be brave. Just do it. Don’t worry.
. . .
Another thing about being “part” of a writing community that you like, that you’ve gravitated towards because of “like-mindedness” and such, is that I find myself thinking the VERY SAME THING on the same days as my blogger friends. Our terminologies are similar. Our senses of humour are similar too. So sometimes I sit down to read something and think, “Fuck! That’s JUST what I was going to say!! Now I can’t write that… shit.”
For several weeks now I’ve been mulling a post around in my head about “commenting.” I’m a bit ashamed to admit that sometimes the lack of comments makes me feel… worthless. I mean, that’s silly. I know it is. I’m not exactly waiting around for people to pat me on the back and tell me I’m amazing and excellent, and yet…
One blogger I love to read, barefootfoodie struck me with what she put in her comments section: Comments make me feel pretty. I thought, “Holy fuck! That’s JUST what I wanted to say! That’s perfect and hi-larious. Man, I wish I had thought of it first…”
So I’d been thinking for some time now, what I might say in my own section would be something like, “De-lurk and SAY something!”
And then.
Just yesterday, a crush I’m stalking my new friend mommymelee used the word “de-lurk” in her post. FUUUUUUCK!! It’s rather hard not to feel like a copy-cat after that.
But everything is about intention. I am NOT a copy-cat. I can’t help it if I want to say the very same thing as someone else before me did. Which is precisely why I don’t read the comments of others before I comment on someone’s post. If I read something that evokes some kind of response in me, I write it. Even if it’s just, “That made me smile.” Or, “Great post!” Or simply, “I love this. Awesome.”
Sometimes after I’ve commented, I will read the other comments in the stream. Sometimes I’ve written words akin to what several others have written… but that’s just how it goes. I can’t help it if we all feel the same way about something terrific someone we love and admire has written. Sometimes brains work in similar ways.
I don’t want to shame or guilt any of my peeps or tweeps into commenting just for commenting sake – I have no use for such tactics. No! I just invite you to respond if you have a feeling about a post. I love to read what people have to say. And? It fuels the beast. I’m not going to let my sense of self-worth get completely tied up in what others think of me – it’s no way to live a life – but Please de-lurk! Comments make me feel pretty. That’s all I’ve been wanting to say for quite some time now. This is me, growing a pair.
And thanks for reading, people. Really. It thrills and encourages me more than you can possibly know.
G.G.
