I have a couple of drafts I’ve been working on for the past year(s) that I’ve completely neglected. It may be my fleeting interest, my sparse (even nonexistent) emotions, my lack of passion, my post (full-time) work exhaustion or all of the aforementioned.
I’ve spent a copious amount of time staring at my screen, purging words and ideas that aren’t there in the first place, and when they are, this voice inside my head stops me from continuing because why should I? No one even reads (my) blog(s) anymore.
In this Instagram obsessed culture, who would even take the time to read a blog post – hey, I can’t even be bothered to read a lengthy caption. Our audience has evolved – as my best friend would put it. We are bombarded with easy information, easy advertising, easy marketing through a perfectly curated feed, validated by the ‘double tap.’
This phenomena makes long-time bloggers like myself – six years and counting – lonely, irrelevant, and uninspired.
I tell myself it doesn’t truly matter because I started my blog – post-heartbreak and all – for no one else but me. I’ve been in denial for the longest time but let’s face it, it does matter, my God, it does.
Over the years, I’ve garnered a following, I’ve gained friends, and most of all, I’ve discovered myself because of my little blog. I do not exaggerate when I say tumblr completely changed my life.
A few weeks ago, I received a very special letter from a long-time reader. An excerpt:
“I was in 6th grade when I came across your blog. I was just starting to explore the online world and you had that apple green Springfield theme.
…I just wanted to thank you, my coming of age inspiration, for always keeping me attached with the world. I find peace reading your posts. I’m now in college, all busy with my academics, but with my spare time I still read your posts. You’re like the Dumbledore to my Harry Potter, and I would always adore your blog, Ms. Elisa.Thank you very much for inspiring me.”
I cried after reading it because I’ve been feeling immensely irrelevant the past months. Her words reminded me how much of myself, my heart and my soul, I’ve poured out to my blog.
It was there as I penned down my late-night heartbreak over a clumsy boy thus cleansing me of unforgiveness and anger. It was there whilst I tethered word after holy word upon rediscovering Jesus Christ, my everything. It was there as I screamed and cried of joy upon getting my very first A, my entire college life, from my year-long thesis.
My blog was, is my constant, and knowing it is for other people too, means the world to me.
The year is 2015.
I have been blogging for six, emotional, exhilarating years.
I started writing this lonely, irrelevant, and uninspired. I end this feeling loved, appreciated, and inspired.
This was inspired by London Beauty Queen’s similar blog post awhile back. This may have focused on her life as a full-time blogger, which I am not, but it pretty much resonated something greater within me, thus this.