I am so mad at myself.
Well maybe not mad, just disappointed.
I’ve written 7 blog posts in the last two years.
This may not seem like anything to you, or maybe you don’t care.
To me, this is upsetting.
Especially when the last post I wrote was from a year ago where I wrote about how much I miss writing and how I will be doing it from here on out.
And I didn’t.
There are 18 days left of 2021 and I haven’t written anything.
This was my outlet; this was my place to write about anything my heart desired.
A place to ramble on about whatever I wanted.
It was my corner of the internet.
And I’ve neglected it.
I could sit here and make excuses.
I could tell you that we lost our dog on March 1st, and that the next two months were kind of a blur.
I could tell you that I gave birth to the best little snuggle bug on June 25th and it has been an adjustment with two kids.
I could say that a year ago I started my dream career and in October I went back in full in person school and it was a whirlwind.
I could tell you that I am in the middle of grad school and that I don’t graduate until June of 2023.
All of those things are true, and they are reasons as to why I have been busy, but they are not reasons as to why I didn’t write anything this year.
It wasn’t that I didn’t have anything to write about, I just didn’t want to write.
I lost my spark for it.
I wish I didn’t.
But sometimes we lose the spark for things we once had.
Sometimes things that set our soul on fire don’t anymore.
I wish I could sit here and say that the spark is magically back.
I wish I could go on about how the fire is back and I am so motivated to write every day.
But that’s not reality.
I will tell you that I want to write.
I want to be able to put into words how I’m feeling.
I want to rank all of Taylor Swift’s albums.
I want to write about a killer morning routine or what I’m loving at the moment.
I want to write instead of sitting and processing things internally like I’ve been doing.
I want all of these things.
And lucky for me, I was raised by two people who taught me that anything I want is possible with hard work and dedication.
Two people who raised me to believe that I was capable of anything.
So here I am to tell you that I want to keep writing, that I am going to try and keep writing.
I have no goals, no plans, but I really want to have this space again.
I am going to be realistic about how much I can do and if I can really sit down and write.
Sometimes we lose our spark, and that’s ok.
If we lose interest in something, we can find something else that gives us joy.
And if we miss our little spark, we can try to take baby steps to get it back.
Admit your faults, write a vulnerable blog post, commit to trying.
Know that those who love you and what you do will love you no matter what.
So in the words of my girl Taylor Swift, this is me trying.
One thought on “this is me trying.”
Your procrastinating grandma thanks you for verbalizing her 6 year lapse from her art. Now to follow your example … because I really miss the creative outlet that throwing paint gives me. ((HUGS))