This Blog is 9 Years Old
9 years ago, I started this blog. I feel like I’m supposed to say something profound to mark the occasion. Explain how I’ve kept up almost daily writing for 9 straight years without a break. But I don’t really know how I’ve done it except show up.
I show up, every day, at this space. 95% of the time, I write something. And about 80% of the time, I also post something. I write a lot more than I post. I don’t know why. Sometimes I just need to write something and other times I need other people to read what I’ve written in order to release it. And then there are other times when I have nothing to write but I really need someone to read. It’s very complicated, this word thing.
Nathan Bransford wrote recently about missing the blogosphere. One part of me completely understood what he meant. 2007 – 2009 was a different time in the blogging world. This blogoversary post is a case in point. On my second blogoversary, even though my readership was less than a third of what it is now, I received 117 comments. Lots of people were celebrating with me; we celebrated each other’s spaces. This year, I’m guessing I’ll get around 14 comments. Maybe? The way we talk to each other online has changed.
And then another part of me doesn’t miss the blogosphere because it’s all still here. It’s different, yes, but I always have blog posts to read. There are always people out there, expressing themselves. You do need to be out there yourself to find them, but as long as you are still clicking through people’s comment section and finding new bloggers, your feed reader will always be full.
It’s sort of like picking strawberries. In the middle of the season, the strawberries are easy to pick and you can go home with so many strawberries that you don’t know what to do with all of them. Some inadvertently end up rotting before you can turn them into jam. But right now, we’re closer to the end of the season. The strawberries are a little harder to find, but when you do, they are sweet and bright red. Maybe you cherish and use them a little better because they took a little more work to find.
Luckily, things have a way of coming back around, so I’m hopeful there will be another beginning, middle, and end of blogging season again and again and again if we continue to replant and tend the rows.
Or maybe you just read that and thought, “Melissa is such a fool! She thinks this blogging thing has a future.”
All I know is that I need this space. That this space completes some missing puzzle piece in my heart, and I need to keep writing it regardless of whether any other blog exists in the future. It feels like home as much as my home feels like home. It feels like a part of who I am, how I define myself.
It’s something I need; in the same way that I need hugs and books and flashlights. None of those things are akin to water or food or air, but they are things I need to feel comfortable. I need my body to be touched and my mind to be challenged and my fears to assuaged by hugs and books and flashlights. And somewhere in there, I need a space where I can write that is entirely within my control.
So that’s it. Not very profound. Maybe not as eloquent as I’ve been on other blogoversaries. But it’s what I felt like saying, and I can do that because this blog is a me-shaped space.
Thank you for being here with me in this me-shaped space.