So, as you may have realized (you’re here, aren’t you), I’ve begun to blog again.
I was reluctant to do so because it all seems so self indulgent. It’s a “hey look at me” thing that I’ve felt uncomfortable with in the past. When people would ask me to write again, I’d tell them that I don’t have anything special to say. I just write about our lives from our perspective. Apparently that’s enough.
I put out a couple of posts this week that really seem to have resonated with people. People praise my writing style, but I don’t see anything special about it. Just this week, one of my favorite critics praised the “openness and honesty” of my writing. She found it enlightening. Another special lady said, “my heart is so full and so empty reading this.” People heard echoes of their own lives, and in turn have shared their stories with me.
I think there’s power in saying the hard thing; power in speaking the hard truth. It’s freeing to bare the part of your life that isn’t shiny and new. We spend so much time on “social” media building this façade, carefully constructed to conceal the sadness and ugliness behind it. We’re afraid to share those sides of us we fear people will judge us for. I’ve seen studies where people link social media sites like Instagram and Facebook to increases in depression. Everybody seems to be going fun places, eating great meals, and looking beautiful. It makes you look around and feel bad for yourself, and the places you aren’t going.
All I’ve done this week is to speak frankly about issues that concern our family. That it resonates so profoundly with so many people is humbling. It’s important to remember that there is real pain out there, and real pleasure. Not everything has to be seen through an Instagram filter. It’s OK that you don’t have it all figured out. I thought being an adult would mean I had it all under control, but it seems that being an adult is mostly making some stuff up and Googling the rest.
I’ve gotten a bunch of new friend requests, private messages, and even e-mails of people who want to reach out, telling me that they’ve been where we are, and they understand. It’s so nice to know that people share the same experiences you do. It creates a sense of togetherness that I think is lacking today. It’s what builds community.
Thank you very much for your reactions, prayers, and most importantly, your camaraderie and readership. I wouldn’t write if I didn’t think anyone was listening. It’s therapeutic to put thoughts to “paper,” I’ll grant you that, but that’s what diaries are for. Blogs are meant to be shared. I hope you’ll stick around as we continue to share the good, the bad, and the sad. We’re miles from perfect, but we’re trying our best.