|The hand is either a wave or a high five - you pick|
I made a couple of posts since 2011, but nothing more than a post every few months where I would feel this urge to type something up and post it on here.
If it's ok with you, I'd like to tell you about the past couple of years of my life, and the effect blogging has had on it. (I'm warning you, it's sentimental!)
At first, I left because I felt like I had too much going on in my life.
To quote my post from December 2011, "I might disappear again for a while, but it's not because I've been eaten by a mythical creature, but my extreme workload has basically caught up to me."
And that's true.
8th grade me probably felt overwhelmed with the constant drama and gossip of middle school as well as the terrifying thought of going to high school. (Of course, I exaggerated with the "extreme workload" bit in order to justify the whole thing to myself.)
But as time went on, I was never able to come back fully because I felt that I had nothing meaningful to talk about. I felt like I had lost my blogger "voice", and no matter how much I tried, I couldn't produce something I was happy with.
Over the past two years, I had been welcomed into this incredible community on Blogger, and I just didn't want to let anyone down by writing posts I wasn't happy with.
So I just stopped writing altogether.
And life went on.
But I did came back from time to time. because this blog became a place where people would listen and offer their thoughts when no one else in my life would. And I don't think I could ever give up on something like that.
Yesterday, I started unfollowing blogs that didn't hadn't posted anything new this year. And it was sad and nostalgic because some of the blogs were the exact same as I had remembered them three years ago.
Yet, miraculously, some of them are still alive and updating. And I was delighted to see some of the ones that I remember the most vividly are still active. (Namely Furree Katt, Fang Talks, Hello, Zaynab, The Run-On Sentences of Life and ShuRin ShuShu)
Reading through them, it feels like I never left.
And that's what I love about blogging.
Even though it's not as popular compared to other platforms (Such as Instagram, Tumblr, Twitter, Facebook and the list goes on), what I love about blogs is that for the most part, you have only have words to play with.
There's only an extent to which a fancy layout or stunning photography or endless filter options will help you on a blog.
Because when it comes right down to it, blogs are only as good as the words you put into it.
Posting forces you to establish your own voice, because your voice is what keeps people coming back.
And that appealed to me when I started, a middle schooler latent with insecurity, because this place had the potential for me to express myself and share my opinions in a way that wasn't restricted by looks, social standing, or trendiness of clothing.
(The first and only time I ever posted a picture of myself was when I wrote this guest post for Jodie-Ann's blog)
I was able to define myself by my words, as opposed to letting myself become defined by my appearance.
I loved that.
I loved that I could write about whatever I wanted however I wanted.
I loved that I could
and I loved how I could share stupid little anecdotes, swap advice, or just rant about what was bothering me at the moment.
And most of all, I loved how people listened.
I poured my soul into this blog.
It became so intimate and dear to me, that I've only shown it to one person so far. (Who I think has long forgotten that this existed)
It's not that I was bullied in middle school, but I just never felt like I fit in and I felt like nobody really liked me for me.
But on this blog, for the first time, I felt like I truly belonged in this community of people. And that meant the world to me.
So, this post is one big thank you.
To every single one of you who have supported me, who have read my posts, who have commented, and most of all, who have helped build me this place where I could find refuge within the posts and the anecdotes and the memories.
From the bottom of my heart, thank you.