This post is inspired by a post on MckMamma's blog which I had to comment on. Actually the following is for the most part excerpted from my comment. ;)
Well I heard about "blogging" some years ago and thought honestly, "Well how BORING! Who would read some stranger's online diary?!" But secretly the writer in me was intrigued.
When I was a little child, before I could write creatively, I was told constantly, "You are SO dramatic! You need to be a writer or actress. Find an outlet for all that creative energy!"
Then when I got older I began telling my little sister bedtime stories. We shared a room and the stories of princes and princesses and heroes and babies and love went on into the wee hours of the morning sometimes.
Then when my sister was too busy, tired, or just too old to care about my stories anymore, I tried to write them on paper. One day I asked my sister if she'd let me read her one and she let me, and she didn't like it. I was sooo embarrassed and took it really hard.
I decided I was a bad writer. I burned all my stories. Well actually I think I shredded some, in the interest of full disclosure. Not that that has any point whatsoever...
As a young teenager I had penpals. Over eighty of them. I wrote and wrote and wrote every night but there was something wrong. I would say the same things to different people in 100 different ways and it lost it's personal touch when I was too tired to try to think of the 82nd way to write down what I'd done today. I kept writing as long as I could, for over a year, and stopped replacing them when people stopped writing back. Finally there were none left and I was sad. Sad because they hadn't filled whatever void it was I was using them to try to fill. Sad because I must have let them down or they would have kept writing.
Here's the part in my life where I found my Knight in Shining Armor and we married when I was 19. I didn't do much writing. I knew nobody would ever read what I wrote, let alone enjoy it. I deleted or threw away everything I did write.
As a mom I have been on some message boards and occasionally in the telling of one of my latest mommy adventures I get told I should be a writer. Well I just smile with a tear in my eye when I read that because it's a sweet thought, but in practice who would really ever want to purposely search out and read anything I wrote? There is nothing special about me at all. Nothing whatsoever. I'm not a housekeeping dynamo. I'm not a supermom. I don't have the best behaved kids on the planet. I am not a chef. I am not a big executive with lots of money and ideas to make more. I've only got 2 kids so far, not half a dozen or more, and the two I do have are still just toddlers. I haven't travelled the world, adopted or fed orphans, or even gone to college. There is absolutely nothing about me that anyone would find interesting! I could name off a list of what I WANT, what I would LIKE to do and have and see. But nobody's going to read about someone who wants lots of kids adopted and biological but only has two so far, has lots of ideas but hasn't done anything, and wants to visit Australia but has never left the country. Let's face it, I'm as average plain-Jane as they come... In my own opinion at least. My kids think I have magical powers to manifest milk and cookies out of thin air, kiss away ouchies, and fix all manner of broken mangled abused toys.
About 2 months ago I stumbled upon the Raising Olives blog, and found MckMamma's through there.
That's the first I've ever had any interest in reading blogs. I didn't know they could be about anything and everything. I didn't want to know that they could shine with individual personalities and suck you in like a good novel. Because then I would be HOOKED. And once I got hooked on reading them, I knew I'd never be able to keep stuffing my inner writer down in the dark depths of past hurts and current insecurities.
And MckMamma's annoymous "Mck" nicknames inspired me to get over another of my hurdles- privacy.
So a couple months ago I started a private blog, and then about a month ago I started this public one, and I have not shut up since. And I read blogs every singe day as well and baby Stellan is on my prayer list with my mom who has cancer and baby Jonah and all my friends/family who are out of work from this recession.
Thank you to the bloggers I read for inspiring me. Although I think I've opened Pandora's Box with the whole starting a blog thing now... I seriously can't stop. I've been writing constantly, on everything, not just my blog, and the ideas don't hush up long enough to let me sleep anymore! ;) Look out cyberspace! Boring old me is about to talk your virtual ear off!