I’m beginning to realize just how long it takes to build a successful blog. I have this goal to build up a community of people who share stories together; every time I imagine it, it really seems like such a grand thing that many people would truly enjoy and look forward to. The problem is I only ever see what it looks like a year or two down the road. It’s hard to deal with the results of these first few posts when you keep imagining the results of the 137th or so post.
I have a love of stories. I’m constantly asking my husband for more — more about his childhood, more about embarrassing things he’s done, more about the million girls he used to like in middle school or college. I can’t get enough. Several years ago a coworker of mine complained about her hate of small talk. “Why can’t it be appropriate to dive straight into the deep things, the things that really matter to us?” I didn’t know this girl well, but her comment has always stayed with me. In a way, I think I feel the same.
I like honesty a lot, not the kind of honesty where someone says “You’ll have to excuse me, I don’t have a filter.” I mean honesty where we are just ourselves and we are okay with showing our imperfect sides. No, I do not have cute eyebrows. And I don’t pay to get them done. This is just me, kind of honesty. Sharing stories from our lives is another kind of honesty because often we think if people knew what most of our lives were like, they wouldn’t think the same of us. We like our current version best, so let’s just show people that.
I believe a blog is the perfect place to share the stories from our past. There isn’t the kind of judgement that you get almost anywhere else on the internet…you can be a little more vulnerable and totally get away with it. Isn’t that nice? You also get to save up your written stories like a kind of journal that you can look back on or share with your kids some day. But there’s also this other thing….reading about other people’s little stories from select periods of their lives, even when totally out of context, is really encouraging. It reminds us we are all human and all just living. No human is complete without a book that’s constantly being written about us as we live out each day, week, year.
So there won’t be a writing prompt tonight. Tonight I just want to encourage anyone out there who enjoys that feeling of vulnerability as much as I do to join me. We can share stories together, just for the fun of it. Just to be a part of a community who allows others to read bits and pieces of the book they are constantly writing, day by day. It will be fun—or your money back guaranteed 😉 Over here is my first post – the one that explains how things work. Follow me, and we’ll start the journey together.
But now that I’ve been thinking more, I’ve changed my mind. A campfire is the perfect place to be vulnerable and share your stories. The darkness covers a multitude of sins and the glow on everyone’s faces makes us more likable, especially once we begin to expose those intimate parts of ourselves.
I’d have marshmallows in my hot cocoa.