Once upon a time I wrote a blog.
It started out as a devotional-type thing which quickly evolved into just stories about my everyday life. It saw me through family marriages and divorces, children being born, sicknesses and deaths of those I loved. The blogging community came together to support me during these times, to laugh and cry, to celebrate and mourn.
We were family.
After blogging for about five years I lost my mom. And with that intense grief and healing that followed, I lost the will to write. Writing had been, for me, a way of journaling, an outlet for creativity, and a connection to a vast community of caring people.
I cannot tell you how happy I am to be back.
Because I used to measure my self-worth by the number of increasing or decreasing readers, I now find a certain freedom in writing what I want to, when I want to. I no longer hold myself to a schedule, nor do I think every post has to have a spiritual lesson attached or a stand-up comedy routine included. I don't live or die by the stats, I don't try to make money from the blog, and I value the friendships it has brought me.
I can just be ME. Warts and all.
And here's the thing; You can like it, or you can choose to read elsewhere. I don't write for the audience anymore. I write for ME.
Yes, it could be considered selfish. But I think that we all need just a little selfishness in our lives...a little doing what WE want to do instead of what we're expected to do or what we perceive we're expected to do.
We need to be ourselves. We need to tell our stories. And if people want to look elsewhere for a more interesting story, that's fine.
Linds of Rocking Chair Reflections has a great post on stories today. She also mentions Ashleigh's post on old-fashioned blogging. Both are well worth the read.
They might even prompt you to tell your own story.