So, a couple weeks ago I started work on last Friday’s post, The Reluctant Mommy Blogger. I poured my heart into that post and laid bare some of my most private anxieties about parenting and the identity I’m assuming as a mother. It was easily one of the most cathartic, vulnerable posts I’ve ever written, and I am insanely overwhelmed with the love and understanding I’ve been receiving ever since it went up. Thank you, EVERYONE, who has left a comment, shared it, and emailed me with your thoughts on it. I will be answering each and every one of your messages, but please bear with me as I want to put as much thought into my replies as you all clearly put into your comments.
A want to give a special thank-you shoutout to Katia from I Am the Milk for suggesting my post to the editors at Freshly Pressed. It’s going to be featured later in the week. I’ve taken a ride on the Freshly Pressed roller coaster before, but this is by far the most pride I’ve ever taken from it. Friday’s post was one of the most honest and real pieces I’ve ever written and the fact that so many people are identifying with it gives me such a feeling of satisfaction. In the immortal words of Sally Fields, “You like me! You really, really like me!”
Parenting can be, at times, an incredibly isolating place where we think the world is slipping by us as we change another diaper, administer another time out, or shuttle our kids to yet another soccer practice. I am personally dreading the day when I have to teach Cee how to tie her shoes. I mean, seriously, how does one even do that? The Reluctant Mommy Blogger was all about those moments of isolation. But they are just that: moments. We all have the inclination to panic to some extent when we are going through a trying time in our lives, feeling as though we’re trapped in a static position of ennui that we’ll never escape from.
But Time has this really neat little tendency to move forward, and I firmly believe that even though we may get stuck in ruts, we’ll find our ways out if we actively search. Even though The Reluctant Mommy Blogger was a bit of a downer, it is not the whole picture. It was a snapshot of what my moments of ennui look like. With that it mind, there are a couple clarifications I want to make about some of the things I said in Friday’s post.
First and foremost, I am not dumping all over mommy blogs (ie, blogs that focus on family life and relay the details of that life.) There is nothing inherently evil about them. Unfortunately, somewhere along the way the term “mommy blog” picked up a negative connotation, and perhaps my post didn’t do a lot to rectify that connotation. I am, indeed, proud of my family and my writing. I’m honored that of all the other women in the world, I am the one who gets to be my daughter’s mom. The point of my post was to explain how when everything becomes about your family – even your writing – you can begin to feel like you’ve unintentionally redefined your entire identity without even thinking about it. I’m regrouping now, though. I own what I write. This is my life. If you want to call me a mommy blogger, I take it as a compliment.
Also, when I talked about the sense of self-loathing that I sometimes feel when I’m asked to explain what exactly I write about, I can see how it may seem like I’m not grateful for the successes I’ve enjoyed writing and blogging. I just want to reiterate that I am acutely aware of how lucky I’ve been to find my audience and to be a part of a writing and blogging community that understands me and continues to return. By the standards of some massive blogs, mine is still pretty small, but I am thankful for the exposure I’ve received and the ongoing support of the people who read my words. I sometimes struggle with self-confidence, but that’s my own problem to solve.
Again, thank you all so much for your continued support. Your Pop-Tarts are in the mail. ;D