I haven’t written in over two weeks and it’s really bothering me. It’s not that I have been exceptionally busy and therefore have had no time to write. For the past two weekends, I’ve sat at my laptop, written multiple posts, and then ultimately decided: nah.
I really admire the bloggers who can churn out great content on a consistent basis. Almost as if they’ve gotten it down to a science.
That is not me.
I’ve always felt compelled to blog around life events – big or small, yet significant (to me at least). I usually make a story out of them: beginning, middle, end.
I guess you can say I haven’t had much story-generating events occur in the past few weeks. Not ones that would make for, in my opinion, good blog posts anyway :)
I suppose this also has something to do with an internal change: vigilance about my privacy. I’ve begun to be more discerning about what I share and put out in the ether. It’s not just because I don’t like the idea of some stranger being able to retrieve stuff I’ve posted years ago and use it without my knowledge, but also because I’m trying to be even more conscious about the subtle ways in which I stroke my ego. It’s very easy to do it on the internet and I can’t say I’m not guilty. When I do, I try to balance things out by using my classic self-deprecating humor or also writing about a time when I wasn’t feeling so great. But sometimes I get sucked into “…but everyone else is doing it!” and hit “Publish.”
But there comes a point where I ask myself, “What am I doing?” I read some of the things I’ve written in the past and seriously question my motivations for writing them. I want to disavow myself from more than a few of those pieces. You know the narrative: “Once upon a time there was a girl whose life sucked and then something happened and now she lives happily ever after.”
That’s not to say that I don’t and haven’t had genuinely happy moments in my life, particularly in the two years in which this blog has been in existence, but it also doesn’t capture it all.
I struggle to be true to myself and also keep a distance at the same time. I don’t want my life on full display. It goes against the way I was raised. My family has always been hush-hush about things. A lot of it has to do with what others will say or attracting nazr (which for people reading who aren’t familiar with the term, “evil eye” is the closest thing I can think of, but it’s a bit more nuanced than that). The fact that I blog about my life contradicts this, but the way I make peace with it is telling myself that the people who are going to take the time to actually read what I write are probably really generous and kind human beings. I mean, it takes time and effort to get through to the end of most of my posts. It’s serves as a filter.
I have a feeling I’ve written a post about this before. Oh well. I needed to blog (for myself!). I know if I don’t post this now, it’s going to be an entire week before I post again, and even that might be an underestimation. So I’m just going to go ahead and do it. That’s what blogging is aboot, right? Real time. No waiting on others. Just do it.
But maybe that’s why I even have this problem. Perhaps I am not discerning enough?
Here we go again! ;)