i don’t know what i’m doing here anymore.

i’m sorry. this is just one of those posts bloggers churn out about their Purpose and i know it’s boring for you, because it’s always boring for me when others do it, and i truly apologize for putting you through boredom. that said, i kind of feel like i have to put this on the table.

i used to write in a vacuum. i used to write emotional diatribes, drawn from my depths, about the most personal things that i went through, and i dropped them into the void of the internet. they still exist here, because i haven’t made time to clear them out. i’m ashamed of them now, in a way – although i put enough veils over my words for them not to reveal actual events and people, unless you know me well, it is just – it’s so much of me. it is my squishiest, wriggliest parts and it exists for the public. that said, despite my shame, i recognize that a small percentage of them are also excellent writing, and i want that to remain. i’m proud of it too, in a way. it’s a confusing thing.

i’m not in a vacuum anymore. i have people i met here that i am now friends with, in the “hey, let’s grab a cup of coffee” way. i have friends i made in the physical world that read these words and i WORRY, i worry so hard of what everyone thinks of me. i worry what strangers who come up on this space think of me, when they are used to seeing twenty something blogs that are full of sparkliness and polka dots. i’m building a career and i know i am not the sanest person out there and i wonder, because my thoughts and feelings are raw and do not fit into a sparkly mold, i wonder how clients and employers might see me. i wonder what i am losing, with this space. i wonder if i am brave enough, to deal with the notion of being seen. the blogging world is not what it used to be – it’s not kids on livejournal and xanga spitting out their feelings anymore, it’s chefs and bakers and fashionistas and mommies and marketers and niches, but very rarely is it just people. at the end of the day, i’m just a person.

there are a few obvious answers. to close up shop completely, which i’ve tossed around, but it doesn’t quite feel right. the other option is to close up shop in a different way, and hide the raw parts. which is problematic because, in my opinion, i would also be hiding the real parts, and i place value on the concept of being genuine, of being transparent, of telling the truth without the varnish. and i guess the best of us strike a careful balance where you only expose them at the right moments, where most of the time you are shiny and positive and at just the right moments you let your guard down and tell the truth to create a sense of relation with your audience. but let’s be real, i am pure shit at that. i don’t know the right moments for anything and i have a terrible sense of balance. so i could write about the things i do and the trips i take and the recipes i bake. i could do that and i wouldn’t feel as though i were actually showing you anything. it wouldn’t really feel like me. and i guess the third option is to man up and do what i want and say fuck repercussions. i’ve been cautioned against this by people older and wiser than i, and i am scared. i am just well and truly scared.

so this is a large part of the reason why i have been so quiet. i don’t know what i’m doing here, and i don’t know where i belong. writing online was once my refuge, and i can’t begin to explain to you the ways it saved me. i’ve tried to journal, and it’s never given me the same sense of relief that writing for an audience, even an invisible one, has. i like sharing my world, but i don’t know how much of it to share. the friendships i’ve made across these wires are the kind that i would bleed for, the kind i cry for because i cannot fathom how deeply i’ve been blessed. the whole idea of writing a blog, of a sense of community, it matters to me deeply. but i don’t know what i have to bring to the table anymore.