Poor ole G! He’s had enough to deal with recently, without the added annoyance of me. Forlorn, huffing and puffing about falling out of love. How things are just not the same anymore! And they’re not. Just recently I completely fell out of love with my blog. What used to be a passion has become a chore. And so instead of churning out my usual 4-5 posts a week I’ve probably only contributed a total of ten articles in the past month. Instead I’ve been focusing most of my energy on rekindling the passion. Looking back on the hook; what captured me way back at the start.
I’ve always journaled, ever since I was a kid. I can definitively remember having a diary (of sorts) from around the age of 6/7 years of age. Writing things down was always my therapy. Especially coming from a big family and trying to work out where within that family dynamic I sat; emotionally, mentally, creatively, academically. I imagine (like I know!?) that being a single child or one of two that you don’t have to subscribe to anything you just are! Where as in a larger family although the boarders blur and you share interests, bagging your ‘thing’, your space is all part of establishing your identity. And although I am lucky to be from a family mixed with academics and creatives who are able to jump between the realms ‘over sharing’ and story telling was always ma thang!
I scrap booked long before the arrival of Facebook and actually, social media found a place in my life very early on purely because I was starting to run out of wall space to put up all my photos.
I don’t know, I guess sometimes blogging feels a little redundant. More so now when there are so many other multi-faceted platforms like Instagram accommodating both my creative and expressive sides. And for free! What I do love about having my own blog space, is just that. It’s my own, just me no competition. I’m so tired of hearing about engagement rates and people buying likes and followers. I get why this might be an anxiety or driving force if you’re seeking fame and popularity. But that’s not what I’m about, at all. For me, it’s always been about two things: breaking out of the loneliness of motherhood and finding a way to express myself. It’s so easy to lose yourself and forget who you are coming on here whether it’s once a day/week/month helps me find clarity. To silently blurt it all out!
And here we are, rant done-spirits lifted. The passion ever so slightly burning stronger with every bellow of thought burnt on to the page. Passion rekindle, I dunno? What do you do to counteract a mum slump? I think I’m gonna go have a day of old school scrap booking and attempting to just sit and reminisce over a remotely warm cup of tea.
Thanks for popping in!