I know, I know. This is the nth time you are seeing me say “I got a new site, I’ll blog again!” For the past 3-5 years, a part of me wished I could literally start over but life doesn’t roll that way. So instead, I kept starting new sites hoping it would inspire me enough to write, finish and publish my thoughts. But I was already too stressed and too tired to take on the challenge of finishing a draft and publishing it online.
At some point, I just gave up and began turning my last site into a photo journal. But I’m no photographer. Yes, I learned to take a few good angles but I know it’s not photos I wanted to share. If I were to put a piece of myself in this generation’s version of the web, it has got to be words.
See, the written word, to me, is magical. I fell in love with reading as a kid and since then, words from books I’ve consumed have grown a desire to get shared. They won’t just settle at the nooks and crannies of my brain for my personal usage. They would form phrases and sentences and stories that compel me to grab a pen & paper and write.
Excuses & Reasons
I never really stopped writing. I just stopped publishing.
I would censor myself.
This story should not be shared because it could hurt this and that person/organization. Who would even be interested in reading my thoughts in an age of travel hacks, vlogs and well-curated feeds? Bloggers nowadays must follow a theme and my train of thought has far more categories than what is “accepted” and “allowed” in the blogging universe of 2018.
But those reasons — they are all about what other people would think. They are about turning a supposedly good hobby that gives itself to the world into a trade that takes from the world thru blog earnings, follower counts, and online applause.
This time, it’s just pages.
This new site — it’s a fresh start, but it’s also not a fresh start really.
It’s not a fresh start really because I now allow myself to take pages from my old notebooks & my drafts’ folder and hit that publish button. This time, I’m publishing without the inhibitions of a young woman who felt she cannot publicly talk about her wrong choices in life, her past ordeals, her worldview that was shaped and is still being shaped by her Christian faith, formal and informal education, and experience with people.
It’s fresh because I get to write new things from a year of quiet healing and restoration, new discoveries from staying at home and consuming content from books and online resources, new stories formed after I survived a tough year, new stories from my new adventures.
I’ve always said that I have lived half of my life inside my head that the other half feels like a dream. And I would always live that way, only this time, I’m committed to taking pages from the inside of my head and out to the world wide web.