I didn’t realize this until tonight, but this blog is one year old.
On August 11th, 2017, I hit Publish on my first post, Starting.
I had more excuses, more fear, more insecurities about launching a blog than I can list. I thought I wasn’t ready. I was quite sure I would run out of ideas for content. I certainly needed to understand a bit better the mechanics of maintaining a blog. I knew there were others out there who had been at it longer, who were absolutely doing it better, reaching far more people, having a much deeper impact than I could. I definitely thought people wouldn’t read it. I also thought they would, and that no one would like what I had to say, or feel it was relatable in any way.
You’re reading this today because I disregarded all of that bullshit that I built up in my head. I took the leap, and I have continued to do so for fifty-two weeks.
I have been a blogger for a year. It took me much longer to identify as such than I care to admit. For months, I wasn’t a “real” blogger. I was just someone posting words, online. I gave plenty of credit to others, who were doing the same damn thing, who surely understood they were the true real deal.
It’s been a year of pushing past my inner critic. Every week that I hit that green “Publish” button, I do it with varying amounts of trepidation.
Fear, excuses and insecurities don’t dissipate just because you jump. You just have to be louder.
I am a blogger. I am a writer. My content speaks to people. I haven’t missed a week. Sure, there were Tuesdays where there may not have been substantial content, but I showed up here, every single week no matter what.
I’ve learned more than how to build a blog here. I’ve learned about connection and conversations and vulnerability and so, so much more.
What could you do today, to get you closer to where you want to be?
What could you create, if you simply committed to showing up?
What would happen, if you just decided to start?
Finding Me in Mom 