I think I have lost count on all the blogs I have tried to make “successful” over the years.
Let me start by saying that the word success is a relative term. Everyone’s definition is different. For me, and writing/blogging, it is simply something I am happy with.
When I look at all the “successful” blogs that have seemed to have lasted the test of time… I wish I did not give up. Granted, my first blog was more a diary. It was the 90s, no one was online. There were no templates, every single word and image had to be coded a particular way to get it the way you wanted. It took so much time! As the internet became… the internet, I stepped back. When I entered college and eventually became a mother I stepped way back. I did not have the time for coding, and getting pre-made layouts was not something I wanted to spend my money on.
This idea of sharing my life, and the things I was experiencing never quite left me. I found it hard to believe I was the only one out there feeling some kind of way. Migrating to LiveJournal for several years to document my wedding planning and early motherhood. That also eventually fell by the wayside because… motherhood, work, life.
I wish I documented this journey at all because at some point I came back to it. I was going to be a “lifestyle blogger”. Whatever the fuck that means. That also morphed into a diary of sorts which was fine until… it wasn’t. A little while after that I tried a book blog because the “experts” said a blog has to have a niche. That got boring. Who just wants to talk about one thing… all. the. time.
Books became a major hobby of mine over the last several years. I was all in. I had a booktube channel for a few years. Yes, I put myself in front of my cellphone camera and attempted to talk about the books I was reading and was hoping to read. Even then, I was a lot older than most of the people with his hobby; I had kids and was working full-time. Quite the opposite of most channels. I was reading a lot, but it never seemed like enough. And it certainly was not the “right” books. So I quit.
I embraced the Instagram bookish community, bookstagram. Or I tried. It started off much like youtube except it was more practical. No need to set up my area to film, or set aside time to edit a ten-minute video. But the same thing started happening – it became overrun by people who had a lot more time on their hands. Then 2020 happened…
2020 brought a lot of social justice, everywhere. And all of a sudden my bookish feeds were filled with all sorts of black squares and a bunch of white people advocating for diversity in reading. (Which on a surface level was fine, but now when I go to these same pages I see they’re back on their bullshit. No longer is promoting and reading a certain kind of way needed.) I did not want to quit. I took a step back but the whole thing left a bad taste in my mouth and earlier this year I dropped it altogether. Yet, here I am ten months later.
2021 was the year of Peloton for me. When I received my bike in July I felt like I really needed a separate space to gush about my obsession so I created a separate IG page. But I am not a photographer. I am a writer, and I hate long-ass captions. So here I am again… wanting to spread my wings a little further. I thought I would be able to fill that void with FB group memberships. NOT. Too many of the same things are being asked and talked about. So… here I am, again.
I am going into this, very low-key. Low expectations. A month ago I started using a digital journal app on my phone which should keep this space from morphing into a place to vent about personal matters.
So, again, here I am… I still have no idea what I am doing. Where I am going. But I am here for it.
Don’t worry, I will not be making a podcast. I understand the assignment.