Well, here I am again. Explaining why it’s been so long since I’ve posted. But I’m kind of okay with that. I’ve decided (discovered?) that for me writing is cyclical. I don’t always want to write. I don’t always need to write. But sometimes I do. And so I will.
There are many reasons I haven’t been able to write for the last few months. All of them seem like flimsy excuses when I look at them in black and white.
I was bogged down by shoulds. How often I should write. What I should write about. Why I should be writing. Who I should be writing for. All of these shoulds are demotivating. When I’m writing for myself, about the things I want/need to express in the moment it’s not a chore. I don’t want writing to be my job because I want to protect and preserve it for what it already is for me. My therapy. My way to refine and define my thoughts. My voice.
And then when I think about writing as my voice my inner critic starts to question why anyone would care what I have to say. Are most people reading simply rolling their eyes? Did people start following because I wrote about body acceptance and then inexplicably find a post about unschooling in their inbox? When people share my posts is it accompanied by comments about how fantastically wrong I am? I don’t know. And sometimes I don’t care. But sometimes I do.
Finally, hasn’t it been too long since I’ve posted. Haven’t people given up on me by now. Haven’t those who actually did care what I have to say stopped by now. I can’t just start writing again after all this time. Or perhaps I can. We’ll see.