Tag Archives: authenticity

Verdict: Not Guilty

Posted on May 24, 2012 | 33 Comments

I don’t talk about it a lot, but when I was much younger I was in a relationship with an older guy for more than five years. He wasn’t a bad guy, but it was a very bad relationship for me that left me feeling trapped and has contributed to many of the issues I still have today.

At a time in my life when that should have been carefree and fun, I was miserable.

I cried myself to sleep way too often.

I tried to disassociate myself from the situation and numb my feelings by developing maladaptive coping behaviors I (unfortunately) still rely on today.

So why did I stay when a couple months in I knew that something was off?

It’s complicated, but aside from the fact that I was young and not 1/100th as strong as I am now, the main reason I stayed was the guilt. Everyone around me was jealous of such a “great catch,” and I was convinced that something was wrong with me for not feeling the same way towards him as he did about me. I didn’t trust my own feelings and came to view them as less valid than those of anyone else.

So as miserable as I was, I stayed.

Needless to say, that breakup was a huge breakthrough—I moved on immediately—and I’ve grown leaps and bounds through the years. And while I still have a long way to go, I’ve learned to manage emotions much better and have certainly built up a strong sense of self.

But sometimes guilt still crops up, be it a subtle ache or a stab in the chest.

It’s rarely guilt over actions. Experience has taught me that feeling guilty in those situations gets me nowhere fast (or perhaps more appropriately, it sends me backwards.)

It’s usually guilt over emotion, at sometimes not feeling things that I think I should feel — which is entirely as screwed up as it sounds. You don’t need my examples, as everyone has those things they feel they “should” be feeling or doing if only to make someone else happy or satisfy some societal norm.

But lately I’m learning to let go—of the past, of the “shoulds,” of the guilt.

Because if I’ve learned nothing else through the years, it’s that a) hitting the garbage disposal instead of the light switch at 2am will cause me to crap my pants and b) guilt serves no purpose.

It fills my mind up with doubt instead of acceptance of things as they naturally are, and when I make decisions just to make someone else happy or because I feel I “should”, it usually just leaves me miserable.

While I know I’m not one of those people that can completely let go — I’ll always be a “thinker” and entirely too sensitive — I remind myself that while I can change my behavior when needed, I can’t change what I feel at my core.

Which, apparently, is the need to include the phrase “crap my pants” in this blog post.

But my point is that years ago I vowed never to feel trapped again. While at the time I meant it in terms of a relationship with someone else, I’ve come to realize that it applies to the relationship with myself more than anything.

Guilt is a self-induced trap.

We all have the choice to let go.

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Be You. Someone Might Like It

Posted on April 12, 2012 | 75 Comments

Have you ever felt this way?

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I suspect that even the most secure, independent individual has had at least a few moments in which they stare at the computer and wonder, “Weren’t those last couple status updates or tweets funny or clever enough? And what about that last post, the one I poured my heart into? Why aren’t the comments there?”

The deafening silence can cause you to doubt yourself and wonder where you went wrong.

But this just in: If you’re doing what you want to do—not what you think you should do—you’re doing everything right.  

Here’s a Secret

Along with running out of hand sanitizer, the “recent posts” sidebar to the left of what you’re reading can cause me anxiety at times. When I publish a new post, an old one gets knocked off the cliff like the little hiker guy on the classic “Price is Right” game.

That means certain older posts that I liked are banned from the spotlight forever (unless I annoyingly link back, which I probably will,) forcing me to resist the urge to gently caress them while softly whispering, “You’re awesome. Don’t let anyone ever tell you you’re not.”

Because while you’re the sum of your work and you build a community by consistently putting yourself out there, at the end of the day it’s truly a case of “What have you done for me lately?”

It gets harder to think of new things to say when you’ve been doing this blogging thing for a while, and there are a lot of times I wonder how much more I can blog, how many more things I can possibly talk about.

(After all, you can only bury a cat in a bright red sweater so many times before people say, “Hasn’t she said that before?”)

And I openly admit that I still fall prey to feeling insecure when something is greeted with silence, but I’ve also accepted that’s just human nature and there’s nothing wrong with that.

We want to be liked. We want to be acknowledged. We want to connect somehow.

This is where it can be tempting to jump on the bandwagon and do what seems to be working for everyone else. That’s why it often seems like there aren’t many new ideas —simply new people regurgitating the same things people have said in the past and being praised for reinventing a wheel that’s been rolling for years. 

But when you sacrifice authenticity for external validation or cling to attachment to results — (see cartoon above) — you sacrifice the chance to truly show off who you are.

I don’t want to mirror what’s around me, especially if it’s mediocre.

And while being the “first Abby” and not the “next (insert name of popular person I’ve probably never heard of here)” is sometimes greeted with silence,  that’s better than way too much noise.

However, once in awhile it’s okay to want someone to whisper, “You’re awesome. Don’t let anyone ever tell you you’re not.” Or wish for a laugh track to play after every lame joke that I make. And a round of applause when I remember to take the recycle out the morning before they come by…

Anyway, just be you and someone might like it.

If you’re lucky, that someone is you.

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You’re a weirdo, but that’s okay

Posted on August 4, 2011 | 30 Comments

Hey, you.

Yeah, you.

Come in a little closer, closer…

Good.

I want to tell you something very important, something I think you should—no, something I think you need to hear.

Are you listening?

Good.

I just want to tell you that you’re not alone,

in feeling the way that you do.

You might be a weirdo for dozens of things,

but never for just being you.

I know, I know…

You’re rolling your eyes and sighing out loud,

ready to click of this site.

Letting that guard down is not quite your style,

and talking about it’s not right.

But I bet you’ve had doubt, I bet you’ve had fear,

I bet that you’ve questioned your thinking.

Walking that line between okay and not,

feeling your heavy heart sinking.

Days when you feel like the silence you hear,

from words that the others don’t say,

is a chasm to fill with assumptions and doubts

about how you have failed in some way.

It might help to know that you’re not by yourself,

and that someone else feels that way too,

But maybe they don’t know just what they should say,

as they’re not as open as you.

Most people won’t tell you about all the times,

they feel cheated or hurt or confused.

The might never speak of the ache that they feel

when their confident ego gets bruised.

It’s often believed being strong has to mean,

going alone on that ride.

But a stronger thing still is to make yourself fragile,

and speak of those things that you hide.

I bet there are times when you read through a post

and think, “I feel the same exact way.”

Relief in the knowledge that someone out there

expresses the words you can’t say.

I know this is true as I see it a lot,

in the comments I read here and there.

How someone knocks down any walls that they built

through the words that they’ve chosen to share.

They might feel a vulnerable itch as they write,

not knowing how things will turn out.

But even if one person kind of relates,

it’s enough to erase any doubt. 

The person who gets it might not be the one,

that you talk with in person each day.

It might be a “stranger” from some other state,

that takes time to read things you say.

The distance won’t matter when matched against depth,

and authentic relationships form.

As shedding the layers of doubt that we wear,

reveals there is no baseline or norm.

My point is that often we feel like we’re weird,

and honestly, that’s probably true.

But it’s not for the reasons we probably think,

It’s never for being just you. 

Now feel free to click off this site if you must,

I know that his poem’s kind of lame.

But sometimes you need a swift kick in the ass,

and this weirdo is eager and game.

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And that’s all I have to say about that

Posted on February 9, 2011 | 5 Comments

Sometimes it’s difficult to understand, even with hindsight, how the choices we’ve made have added up to our current situation. Things we have said, things we have written, things we have done—all these factors make up the story we tell ourselves as to why things are the way they are.

If you had said this instead of that, she might have understood. If you had called him back, things might be different. If you hadn’t sent that e-mail, no one would ever have known.

On the flip side, a lot of things go unsaid, unwritten and unsent.

Sometimes this is a good thing, as anger and frustration aren’t exactly the keys to communicative success.  I think the reason I started doing yoga more than 10 years ago was so I had greater flexibility when forced to put my foot in my mouth, but I’ve come a long way.  While I have a quick wit, I am much more mindful and cognizant about how what I say and do can have powerful effects on those around me.

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And while I hesitate to call myself sensitive, I suppose to some extent I am. Maybe it’s more like hyper self-aware, in that I think other people read too much into my words than they realistically do. This is possibly because I tend to read too much into the words of others at times, to regard them as more than something to simply fill space or silence.

For me, words have meaning.

Things we have said, things we have written, things we have done—all these factors make up the story we tell ourselves as to why things are the way they are.

There are times I have a million things I want to put out there—on this blog and in normal conversation — and I suppose I feel overwhelmed and don’t know where to start, so I just don’t. I might draft something scattered in an attempt to catch that spark, but it gets filed away or deleted not long after—deemed either too much of one thing or not enough of another.

But while self-editing can be good and save us from the unenviable task of explaining the rationale (or lack of) something said, it can also be restrictive. Things that get shoved on the backburner often fall behind the stove, taking up metaphorical residence with lost magnets and frozen pizza crumbs.

Sometimes this is a good thing, but sometimes it’s a missed opportunity for everything from a good laugh or cry to a friendship or more. Think about it. How many times have you been the one that “almost” sent the e-mail, made the random phone call or gave the compliment?

What stopped you?

I am in no way suggesting that anyone should go around like a loose cannon, but rather that sometimes it’s good to make yourself a bit vulnerable, to edit but keep in the good stuff instead of just scrapping it all.

With all that said (and over-said,) it’s a constant journey for me to not be as self-critical when it comes to what I say and write, to worry less about being too much of one thing and not enough of another. However, my words—even if biting at times—will be carefully chosen and shared more than not.

After all, things we have said, things we have written, things we have done—all these factors make up the story we tell ourselves as to why things are the way they are.

We write our own story.

And that’s all I have to say about that.

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Chit Chat

Posted on December 27, 2010 | 17 Comments

I have discovered that I don’t do well with small talk.

While I can carry on these obligatory pleasantries with the best of them, I can’t help but feel that it all seems very forced and formulaic. And if you know anything about me past my love of baseball and green vegetables, you know that I abhor doing things “just to do them” or because I feel I have to. 

Superficiality is my karmic kryptonite.

If there isn’t a genuine motivation behind an action, my bullshit detector goes off and I lose interest. Warning signs may include me looking past your head, pretending to look busy at my computer, deep breathing (not in a creepy panting “What are you wearing?” phone call way though) and occasionally busting out in Trikonasana in an attempt to avoid my urge to shake you and scream, “What in the world do you want?”

1triangle

This is Triangle pose, for those unable to pronounce Trikonasana in their head.

Don’t get me wrong.

If you are not a close friend of mine (this is not a small club) and are really interested in how my weekend was or how work is going, I would be delighted to briefly tell you about it with the understanding that you probably won’t remember anything I tell you by the next time that we talk.

Once this basic exchange is complete, please feel free to move on with your day. You are no longer obligated to engage in meaningless conversation with me about things you really have no interest in learning.

But if I’m feeling pressured politeness, I might then reciprocate with a brief inquiry myself, knowing full well that most of the time your motivation for asking a specific question is for the sole purpose of me asking you about that very topic.

“Hey Abby! Did you happen to go to the bar this weekend and get wicked twisted, waking up in a vintage Michael Bolton concert T-shirt with a new tattoo you don’t remember getting?”

“No, actually I didn’t.” (Insert dramatic pause as they wait for it….sigh.) “Did you?”

And there go five minutes of my life I will never get back.

This is not meant to sound harsh, but rather to point out the fact that a majority of time spent with people is full of superficial chit chat, small talk—things to fill a silence that supposedly speaks volumes about our inability to constantly communicate as a species.

While interaction is obviously necessary and something that I personally enjoy—at a genuine level—repeatedly having the same meaningless conversations with people tends to push me into concocting ideas on how I can telepathically repel bullets of bullshit like a pinball machine.

But I will always engage in the obligatory pleasantries required of me, as once in awhile people can surprise you—in a good way (not in a creepy panting “What are you wearing?” phone call way)—and I thrive on those fleeting moments of genuine connection. 

I actually crave relationships and care about (most) people at a level bordering on oversensitivity at times, even if I sometimes end up disappointed. That’s how I roll, and I make no apologies for that—at least not out loud.

It’s just that I pick and choose my emotional investments.

And if we both know that it’s filler, why fill it?

This is not to deter people from talking to me or ever commenting—quite the opposite, in fact. If you can be unapologetically honest and not feed me what you think I want to hear—whether it’s while blogging, working or talking to me on the street—you might have just been elevated from superficial small talker to a member of that very small club mentioned above.

We have good talks about life, food, sports, other people — I promise it’s worth it.

But life is short and sometimes, silence is golden (and much preferable to a blaring bullshit detector.)

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I’m (not) sorry

Posted on December 22, 2010 | 14 Comments

There have been times when someone has bumped into me and I’ve automatically busted out with an “I’m sorry.” Was it my fault? No, but sometimes it seems like it’s  a default reaction to certain things said or minor situations.

I guess while I openly invite debate, I also try and minimize conflict. 

And even though a genuine apology is a beautiful thing when the situation warrants it, there are just some things that I won’t apologize for. Yes, I have my quirks, but that’s just me—a work in progress.

If I bump into you or unintentionally hurt your feelings, you can bet I will be the first to say “I’m sorry.” However, I won’t apologize for:

  • hating the mall and loving the grocery store.
  • making you feel uncomfortable if what I say is the truth.
  • liking the smell of gasoline and grilled chicken, even if I have no desire to consume either of them.
  • wanting a goat.

m_81489e871b06eb2964d34c0ca458baec[1]This is Beavis.

  • not crying when you think I should and crying when I shouldn’t.
  • not having pictures in most of my posts and reusing ones I have.
  • liking animals more than I like most people.
  • having no sense of direction. I’m not kidding—I get lost in my own back yard.
  • not wanting to ever have kids, but still marveling in the innocence of a baby.
  • admitting that there are ugly babies. Don’t kid yourself.
  • sometimes wanting to be rescued.
  • laying out in the sun like a lizard on a heat rock every chance I get.
  • always drinking my tea with a skinny coffee straw.
  • bringing salmon or tuna to work in my lunch. The scent will not linger—get over it.

salmon1

  • leaving work early to come home and do work (I will not apologize for not being an office person.)
  • looking forward to food and sleep a bit more than I should, multiple times throughout the day.
  • knowing more about sports than you do.
  • knowing (and caring) less about fashion and financial things than you—and just about everyone else.
  • wearing socks and underwear until they literally fall apart.
  • the fact that my I talk to my mom on the phone more than anyone else.
  • never having the Internet on my phone, an iPod or Google Reader and having no interest in it in the future.
  • preferring to eat asparagus (with lunch) and broccoli (with dinner) every single day.
  • often feeling closer to people I’ve never met than to people I see on a daily basis.
  • cheating when I “cook” sometimes. It’s delicious. Don’t judge.

lasagnaI love Amy. The end.

  • choosing a baseball game over the dating game on almost every occasion (combine the two and you’ve got yourself a deal.)
  • not drinking that often because I always have to drive myself home, but enjoying the one drink I have (vodka gimlet, light lime.)
  • getting annoyed with people that link back to old posts, but then doing it myself when I don’t feel like explaining something again.
  • for honestly enjoying exercise and healthy food, just not to an extreme (that whole “balance” thing.)
  • getting scared when I have to sneeze while I’m driving.
  • liking the time to myself, but sometimes feeling lonely.
  • knowing all the words to every song in Les Miserables since I was seven or the fact that it still never fails to make (even) me cry.
  • also knowing the words to every Rocky movie since I was seven.
  • feeling annoyed when people with almost no responsibility get stressed out or lose perspective.
  • only liking reality TV if there is food and competition involved.

next-iron-chef-04

I wouldn’t even be the next Tinfoil Chef, much less an Iron one.

  • dancing around my living room like a lunatic for no reason, busting out with car karaoke or doing kung-fu through the kitchen after watching action movies.
  • spending weekend nights with old people and going to sleep by 10.
  • doing things that are best for me that might be confusing to you.
  • loving butter and cheese—the real stuff—and thinking anything that tastes “just like something else” should not exist. Keep it real, people.
  • for correcting people when they say “I could care less” instead of “I couldn’t care less.”
  • declaring independence but still sometimes feeling insecure (and secretly hoping you like me.)
  • eating a majority of things out of a bowl. I believe it prevents spillage.

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  • washing and reusing plastic silverware even if the real stuff is still an option.
  • the fact that these bullet points show up 20 times larger when I “publish” than they are in the draft.
  • getting overwhelmed when all my magazine subscriptions come on the same day and I feel like I have to read them all right away. The same goes for good TV shows.
  • never being able to say “Worcestershire sauce” correctly.
  • laughing at politically incorrect jokes if they’re funny.
  • dragging out the last few pages of a book to delay the disappointment of it being over.
  • still wanting a goat.

goat1_thumb

What are some things you won’t apologize for?

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Dartboard material

Posted on November 21, 2010 | 15 Comments

Before I forget, remember that buying a calendar is a great way to support cancer research. Even if you despise every blogger featured for some reason, it can double as a dart board. See? Something for everyone.

Anyway, my last post is actually the reason I’m writing this post and why I’ve been a bit MIA. Work is nuts, and after staring at the computer screen all day the last thing I feel like doing is staring at a computer screen all night. I like being busy and the Princess of Productivity, but it doesn’t always leave a lot of creative energy.

Another reason I’ve been a little quiet is insecurity, especially over my last post. The whole calendar thing freaked me out a bit, as the other women had real “photo shoots” and a much larger following than me. They looked professional, and that picture of me was shot in my living room.

 

Me again.

Now don’t get me wrong—I really do only write for me—but I got a lot of traffic from Deb’s post but not a lot of comments. Why that should matter, I have no idea, but for some reason it did. I started to doubt myself again.

So I gave it some thought with what little creative juices I had left after Friday and came to the conclusion that I am not insecure. Now hear me out on this one. I’m not insecure in the sense that I don’t have confidence in myself, but rather insecure when it comes to believing what other people say. That might not make sense and maybe they are the same things, but I think I just doubt the authenticity of others more than I doubt myself.

I told you had zero brainpower left for creative thought.

For some reason, I tend to think that most people simply say what you want to hear instead of what they really mean. I don’t go looking for compliments or comments for outside validation—well, maybe a little bit at times, but who doesn’t?—but I do really value honesty and authenticity.

Sometimes silence makes me nervous.

I would rather have someone call me out on something than just nod their head in agreement while silently thinking I’m a total ass. In the end I do most things for me, and I’ve come to realize that this isn’t selfish at all, but rather authentic. If I say something, I say it because it’s what I want to say—not what I think I should say. If I go somewhere and do something, it’s because it’s what I want to do—not what I think I should do.

 

I figured I should add a picture to break things up, no? This is Wendell--thrilled we took out the holiday decorations this weekend.

Of course there are exceptions and there are plenty of things I do that I would rather not have to do, but as a general rule, I try and be as authentic as possible. This might turn some people off at times, but in the end, I’m the one that has to feel secure in my decisions. Most of the time I do, but sometimes a lack of outside validation causes me to slip back into that cloak of insecurity and doubt myself instead of realizing that not everyone is like me—too wordy and open with their thoughts.

There are a million things I could have posted about in the last week—busy or not—but I figured no one would really care and I would be rambling. I felt like with all the traffic from Deb’s last post that I had to put something great up here that would impress anyone new stopping by my little piece of cyberspace. After all, if throwing in an easy “What are you thankful for?” question got very little reply, what could I follow it up with?

Well, the answer is, whatever I want to follow it up with.

I was nervous about even posting that picture and poem, but I did because it’s me. I like to know what people are thinking—good or bad—and it’s silence that makes me insecure, that blank space that I can fill with whatever insecurities are lurking in my brain.

But instead of filling it with crap, I can fill it with more authentic ramblings and bull shit that reflects a piece of me at any given time. That’s what I value in others and that’s what I value in myself. So I decided that this morning I was just going to write without a plan. No expectations, no insecurity, no doubting whether this is something you want to read.

I do enjoy spinach.

You may think of me as a pin-up girl or a dart board target, but either way, you’re thinking for yourself and keeping it real.

That’s a good thing.

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American Idle

Posted on July 5, 2010 | 14 Comments

I actually starting writing about this last week and again yesterday while declaring my independence from productivity, but Kim’s last post convinced me that although I’m risking misconceptions (as I don’t always articulate as well as I pretend to in my head and often appear scattered) it’s something I should make time to explore.

And…begin!

Yesterday I started to have a bit of a freak-out day. The type where I either want to go exercise myself into oblivion, eat everything in sight or restrictively, or simply sit on the couch doing nothing. Anxiety has often apparently equated to acting on the most convenient, “safe” impulse I can find—pop a pill (but still no sleep aids!), exercise, throw out “unsafe” things, exercise again, etc.

I could have found some way to workout like a spastic Gilad or purge my cupboards of “unsafe” things, but this time I didn’t (and not just because I’m cheap.) I went for a normal walk, put my energy into cleaning my whole kitchen—again—and then sat on my butt watching the ballgame.

And thinking—you’ve been warned.

I think that maybe I’m having my own identity crisis, in that for the longest time I’ve kind of thought there’s something wrong with how I am. I stress about relaxing. I place large amounts of anxiety and guilt upon myself for not “doing” more, whether it’s personally, professionally or socially. While I don’t particularly care what others think of me, it’s impossible to ignore the “do, do, do” mentality of 99 percent of our culture.

That’s how I used to be.

I was all about being an overachieving student, maybe going onto grad school, getting a spectacular job, etc. In other words, I was extremely driven. The past couple years things have changed, and to be honest, I’m really not driven like that any more—at least not for the same things.

I’m driven for such different things—a job that leaves me creatively fulfilled while paying the bills (still searching), a couple close connections with people who “get” me that I can “get” in return, feeling that I am content and at peace with my choices because they’re truly what I want to do.

Because I don’t want to be the boss of my company, I don’t want to hurry and go find a husband, I don’t want to have it all, whatever “it all” is, I often default to thinking idleness is laziness. Because other people would rather be more social, make more money and go for “it all,” they don’t always understand how I can be OK with where I am, for not always striving to be something externally recognized as extraordinary.

I’m different.

Maybe getting “it all” for me is a life lived with authenticity, less professional hours/money but more time to enjoy a summer afternoon, spending Friday nights grocery shopping renting a movie.

In my opinion, most people do things just because they think they should or that they have to.  I won’t deny that half the things I used to be so driven to do were for recognition, as although I often aim to please myself, I was seeking outside validation that what I was doing was right, what I was “supposed” to be doing.

Maybe I’m simplifying things too much, but I just don’t see the point in so many things. If you don’t like it, why do it?

A majority of people have no connection to their actions—it’s like autopilot through life. They spend energy on relationships of convenience or jobs that bring them money but no spiritual reward. They spend time making themselves into something they think others want them to be instead of who they really are.

I just don’t want to dedicate my energy to things that don’t matter to me. Is that selfish or evolved?

Most of the time I don’t think I’m lonely, but rather that I feel like I should be. Don’t get me wrong in that I do love interaction with other people—thrive on it even—but all at an arm’s length. When I do something social, I shine. But then I just get annoyed. Not annoyed in a superior way at all, but annoyed just because I feel so different. I can’t seem to justify spending my time—even if I have a lot of it—doing things that aren’t important to me.

Then I wonder why this bothers me.

Maybe there’s nothing wrong with my “idleness,” just like there’s really nothing wrong with anyone else and their constant drive for more. If I work hard for what I have and try to do the things that make me happy—as insignificant as they may seem to others—why do I feel like I have to change?

Yes, I do have many issues to work out—my health/weight being first and foremost, of course. I can cover those in another post (you’ve been warned.) But maybe first I need to accept that my version having “it all” is no less important than anyone else’s; that often my actions are a way of trying to fight off that anxiety that just “being” is somehow inherently wrong; that just because I haven’t found that many other people that think along my lines doesn’t mean they aren’t out there, doesn’t mean I have to change that part of me.

Maybe I just need to accept that “idle” isn’t lazy and that:

I will always get more emotional over  “Lost Pet” signs and roadkill than things I “should” be upset about.

I will always be someone who remembers your birthday, even though you rarely remember mine.

I will always be someone who would rather be poor but happy than rich and stressed.

I will always be someone who prefers a few close friends to Blackberry full of contacts.

I will always be someone who would rather fill glasses of coffee in a cafe than break through the glass ceiling of a company.

I will always be someone who prefers weekends of yoga and sports to night clubs and hangovers.

I will always be someone who prefers time alone, but is more than willing to share it with somebody else—just not anybody else.

Selfish or evolved?

I’m not sure, but I’m not that driven to find out. It’s just not something that’s that important to me. What is important to me right now is going to make my food for work tomorrow, watering my garden and stopping by my mom’s.

Exciting? No. Exactly what I want to do? Right now—yes.

Good enough for me.

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Keeping it real

Posted on May 11, 2010 | 27 Comments

I know I have a propensity for unnecessary introspection, but what can I say…I have a propensity for unnecessary introspection. And while it seems as if I am serious a lot of the time, I am actually here to (hypocritically) tell you to not take yourself so seriously.

I started reading and dabbling in blogs almost a year ago, and I must admit that my focus and interests have changed in that time. While I longed to be a “food blogger,” it turns out that I really don’t. This ticked me off at first as I didn’t understand why I couldn’t just be super chirpy all the time, taking pictures of food and sharing recipes and exercise tips with everyone else.

Why couldn’t I?

Simple — that’s not who I am, and quite frankly, it was exhausting trying to be something that I wasn’t. While I’m actually quite pleasant, I’m not always positive and chirpy. We all know of my food obsession, but I really have zero interest in “fun” food and new recipes, as I basically enjoy eating the same things every day. My exercise tips should not be adhered to, as at this point they should consist of only lifting up the remote and throwing pizzas in the oven.

It took me a couple months to realize this, but that is just not who I am and (shockingly) I don’t think that’s really what I want to be. So when I started shifting my writing to more serious things and topics — things I am embarrassed to read back at times, things a little bit too raw, things a little bit too telling — I did lose commenters. Honestly, this ticked me off at first, as I’m an attention whore and basically like knowing that someone is pretending to care.

Why wouldn’t I?

Simple—that’s how a lot of people are, and quite frankly, they’re fibbing a wee bit if they say they don’t care if anyone reads their blog. Of course they do. If they didn’t, they wouldn’t make it public, offer engaging questions at the end or somehow try to get  link love out there (I was too lazy to link any of my old posts in this one, by the way.) There’s nothing wrong with that.

So I took a step back and what did I learn? Unless it’s a professional endeavor, don’t take yourself so seriously. I know that I sometimes feel like I have to write something, like the blank screen is staring at me and my “public demands the next groundbreaking post.”

Umm…not so much.

I love having a tiny little piece of cyberspace to call my own, that I have received so much support from virtual “strangers” that have become virtual “friends,” and that I’ve learned so much these past few months just by opening my mind to new possibilities, but I only really started to appreciate it when I really started to be real and wrote from the heart (whether I like it or not.)

What else  have I learned?

Too many apologies. Unless it’s your job, don’t apologize for not posting as frequently as “the big bloggers.” People can tell when you’re forcing a post, when it’s uninspired and probably published because it “was time.” Do it because you want to—people can tell.

As for content, no matter what it is, don’t put stress on yourself to constantly churn out what you think you should be writing to get comments or get discovered. Comments are great, but would you rather have 50 comments of “lol” and “that looks good” or a few introspective comments that  offer you a new way to see things, motivate you to think a bit more, give you a laugh or kick your ass a bit?

Exactly.

Over the past few months I’ve had moments when I questioned why I even blog (no one reads anyway, my posts aren’t as interesting as hers, etc.), questioned why I even read some blogs (I’m not going to be able to offer anything that won’t sound hypocritical, is it a waste of time), etc. 

The answer? I shouldn’t take it or myself so seriously.

I go to work and pay bills because I have to, but…

I write because I want to write, not because I have to.

I read because I want to read, not because I have to.

I comment because I hope that maybe I can offer a little bit of insight (or a sarcastic laugh) to someone, not because I want them to come and read my blog.

It’s relationships, it’s connections. It’s serious, it’s funny. It’s light, it’s heavy. It’s inspiring, it’s frustrating.  It’s me—maybe not the best me right now, but it’s me.

It’s real.

Keep it real, people.  

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