back(b)log

    

One day, an innocent, unassuming little bride-to-be discovered blogs.

Beautiful blogs and cool blogs and truthful blogs and lovely blogs and heartwrenching blogs.
She read, then followed and eventually devoured obsessively all the poetic language and dreamy images of the blogs and the little bride-to-be found it intriguing, stimulating, and inspirational.
She was so inspired that one good day, she felt compelled to put her own incredible adventure into words, and pretty soon the little bride-to-be had her very own blog!
The beautiful and the cool and the truthful and the lovely and the heartwrenching ladies, and a whole bunch of others besides, read the little bride-to-be's blog and left beautiful, supportive comments and sent other readers there with their beautiful, supportive words.

The little bride-to-be poured her heart out.
She told of the wondrous love she'd found, when she least expected it.
She recounted the remarkable journey she'd undertaken to test her love, which yielded more than she'd dared to hope for.
And she shared all the little details of the many happy plans that were made to celebrate her love.
The little bride-to-be loved her blog.
She couldn't wait to share another piece of her life and her love with the wonderful friends she found there.
Some friends were so very far away, that little gifts had to be shared in the place of coffee dates, and some were so very close by that coffee dates could be swopped for tequila nights and turn acquaintances into real life friends, as if by magic.  

The big, happy day came, and the little blogger bride-to-be was a bride.
The little bride enjoyed a wonderful wedding day, and undertook a fantastical journey with her little groom.
They travelled and they returned and they searched for a brand new home of their own and found one!
They grew and they laughed and they learnt and they loved, oh did they love.
But the little blogger could blog no more.

Where before she found other blogs intriguing, stimulating and inspirational, she now found them competitive and intimidating.
Where before her mouth was filled with the words of her remarkable journey, she now felt dumb-struck in the face of measurement and comparison.
She tried to tell another story, of another time with another meaning but it wasn't quite the same.
Months went by and while the little blogger still read and followed and devoured the blogs of her friends, her voice remained lost in silence.

Somewhere amid the silence, the little blogger realised that she really, really missed writing her blog.
She still had much to say and share. Many opinions and ideas and questions and reflections.
But then she couldn't write because there was so much to say, to share, to exclaim, to ask and to reflect upon, and that kept her silent still.

One good day, and one good friend came along.
This was a very good friend, a friend who had been found through this wondrous world of blogs, and who had been cemented as a friend through shared tequila nights and many other fantastic adventures.
This friend encouraged, and perhaps even forced, the little blogger to just sit down and write.
The silence echoing from the little blogger's blank page compelled her to remember that in the beginning she wrote for no-one but herself.
That in the beginning, it was about keeping a journal of thoughts and feelings and plans and images and that it mattered not one bit how her thoughts and feelings and images were judged by others, because this blog, this very special first and personal one, was just for her.

Just like that, our brave little blogger was back.

image from vault49 via katrinleblond