I'm back!
I took a break, and then an even longer break.
I lost my confidence and I guess my voice too. In reviewing my last post - from March! - I can see that my thinking was not as sharp or clear as I'd like. I have a lot to say but am really nervous about saying it or writing it.
The truth is that as much as I seem to want to do this, blogging is very hard for me. I have in my recent past really hurt people's feelings with my writing. I have also taken some personal risks and wrote things that later embarrassed me. Worst of all, I've both hurt other people and embarrassed myself at the same time with my writing. Sometimes I guess I'm fearful I'll make the same mistakes again... or if I'm really honest about it, I feel as though I don't deserve the chance to write about whatever I want to now because of the mistakes I made then.
There was also an incident. A short, brief conversation. Not even a conversation... my mother made a passing comment about the content of some previous Boobs and Poop blog posts, in her warning tone. It pissed me off and threw me off. It made me feel foolish, you know the way moms can make us feel. Here I'd been so excited about the positive feedback from my friends and other moms. I'd actually been enjoying hearing that someone laughed reading one of my blog posts. I'd never really planned to do anything spectacular or professional with this blog; I started it because we moved to a new town and I was home with a baby. I was going nuts and needed to talk... so I wrote instead. And as silly as it sounds, it was helping me feel a little like myself again. And then in comes mom, right on cue. (Someday she'll read this and I'll have to live out the play-by-play of Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood.)
Well, so I'm 12 weeks pregnant! Little miss will soon be a big sister, and our family will grow from 3 to 4. I am slowly trudging along and making progress in rejoining the world; really finding my place in Diamond Bar. I am in school at CSU Fullerton and am still planning to go to work as an SLP when I'm 38-40. (I have ways to go.) I am trying to have a healthy pregnancy and not freak out about politics (or bringing another baby into a gun-filled, chaotic theocratic nightmare). Things are changing again in my little world, and it's making me take a hard look at my life.
I like these moments, the times I'm forced to look at myself and ask myself what the fuck I really want. It's hard. But I want to write. I want you guys to read what I write and enjoy it, but I really want to write. The process of writing helps me wake up in the morning and think more clearly during the day. It makes me feel more connected to the world around me. And it gives me a chance to weigh in; whether anyone cares about my thoughts is kind of irrelevant. I can still make my statements. I do have a journal, but I like to blog. I like to blog. I like typing and linking to other content, and I like sharing (or not sharing) new articles. So I'm going to write for Boobs and Poop again, and I'm going to enjoy the fact that it can feel like some great act of defiance to do so.
I took a break, and then an even longer break.
I lost my confidence and I guess my voice too. In reviewing my last post - from March! - I can see that my thinking was not as sharp or clear as I'd like. I have a lot to say but am really nervous about saying it or writing it.
The truth is that as much as I seem to want to do this, blogging is very hard for me. I have in my recent past really hurt people's feelings with my writing. I have also taken some personal risks and wrote things that later embarrassed me. Worst of all, I've both hurt other people and embarrassed myself at the same time with my writing. Sometimes I guess I'm fearful I'll make the same mistakes again... or if I'm really honest about it, I feel as though I don't deserve the chance to write about whatever I want to now because of the mistakes I made then.
There was also an incident. A short, brief conversation. Not even a conversation... my mother made a passing comment about the content of some previous Boobs and Poop blog posts, in her warning tone. It pissed me off and threw me off. It made me feel foolish, you know the way moms can make us feel. Here I'd been so excited about the positive feedback from my friends and other moms. I'd actually been enjoying hearing that someone laughed reading one of my blog posts. I'd never really planned to do anything spectacular or professional with this blog; I started it because we moved to a new town and I was home with a baby. I was going nuts and needed to talk... so I wrote instead. And as silly as it sounds, it was helping me feel a little like myself again. And then in comes mom, right on cue. (Someday she'll read this and I'll have to live out the play-by-play of Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood.)
Well, so I'm 12 weeks pregnant! Little miss will soon be a big sister, and our family will grow from 3 to 4. I am slowly trudging along and making progress in rejoining the world; really finding my place in Diamond Bar. I am in school at CSU Fullerton and am still planning to go to work as an SLP when I'm 38-40. (I have ways to go.) I am trying to have a healthy pregnancy and not freak out about politics (or bringing another baby into a gun-filled, chaotic theocratic nightmare). Things are changing again in my little world, and it's making me take a hard look at my life.
I like these moments, the times I'm forced to look at myself and ask myself what the fuck I really want. It's hard. But I want to write. I want you guys to read what I write and enjoy it, but I really want to write. The process of writing helps me wake up in the morning and think more clearly during the day. It makes me feel more connected to the world around me. And it gives me a chance to weigh in; whether anyone cares about my thoughts is kind of irrelevant. I can still make my statements. I do have a journal, but I like to blog. I like to blog. I like typing and linking to other content, and I like sharing (or not sharing) new articles. So I'm going to write for Boobs and Poop again, and I'm going to enjoy the fact that it can feel like some great act of defiance to do so.
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