Let's Do This
Once upon a time, I was a blogger, and MySpace was my
platform. I wrote every day, satirical pieces on mommy hood and societal
expectations. I had followers who
validated my thoughts, interacted with me, challenged me. We were a
community. Does anyone even remember a time before blogging was the disgusting
advertising, influential marketing machine it is now. I was no expert on
anything, and neither was anyone else. It was a gathering of regular people
just trying to connect in some way. Stephanie was a young mother of 4, and it
was her naiveté and blissful ignorance to most of the societal pressures placed
on females that really drew me in.
Stephanie was someone that I oddly related to, and tried in so many
ways to emulate, even though she was the complete opposite of who I truly was. It
was through Stephanie that I found Courtney, so much more like me, slightly irreverent and sarcastic, super witty (humblebrag). I really loved these two
sisters, and I loved their ginormous Mormon family that they shared with all of
us. It was an emotionally devastating day when I logged in to read the daily
posts and was instead updated with the news that Stephanie and her husband had
been in a terrible plane crash. The crash resulted in burns over 80% of her
body, the pilot was killed. The blogging community really came through in their
support of her recovery in a beautiful way. The following months were filled
with waiting for updates via Courtney’s blog, donating and sharing, quiet hopes
for recovery and speculation as to what would come next for our "friend". Perhaps you are
wondering what this story has to do with anything.
Stephanie’s accident was 8 years ago. Eight years ago I was
33, Emma was just 4 and Dan was not even 40 yet. That seems like a lifetime
ago, and yet, it’s only been 8 years, not even close to a lifetime. Eight years
ago, I was a blogger, I was a woman trying to balance work, family and personal
needs. Full transparency, I was sad, all the time, I was so very very sad. Life just wasn’t
turning out to be the way I planned it, not at all how I had imagined it would
be. I did not like my job, I did not like being a mom, I really didn’t like my
husband very much. I was stressed, and angry all the time. Mostly, I would look
around and see that everyone else was so lucky, everyone else was prettier,
smarter, more successful, better at being everything.
EVERYONE. It was Stephanie’s accident
that really grabbed me by both shoulders and shook me, what the hell was I
doing? I had to stop comparing myself to other people, trying to be more like
them, especially people who I didn't even know outside of the Internet. I needed to be more like me. I had lost a little bit of me somewhere
along the way trying to live up to everyone else’s expectations. I was done.
Except, I wasn’t done. Not even a little bit. I am still
fighting the same fights. I didn’t truly have this realization until Stephanie
posted today that it’s been EIGHT YEARS. I have literally wasted 8 years
without action, without change. My life is by no means horrible, but I want to
love my life and I want it to mean something. I want the life that values
relationships, and nurtures souls, the life that teaches and learns, and leaves
a legacy of humanity to humanity. I want to really know myself, and I want to
really know you. I want today to matter, and I want to not look back on this
day in 2024 and realize again that I am wasting life.
And that friends, is how one returns to the blogosphere, if that's even what's it's called any more.
Shared accountability. You with me and me with you. Hi.
About the Author
0 comments