I may have mentioned every year for the past forever that New Year is my favourite time of year. The only time I ever remember not being happy about the new year was in 2009, when I entered January as a single mom with a shattered heart. I needn’t have worried. I met the second love of my life in 2009 – Noah being the first – and he’s still here. 2009 turned out pretty great.
This year is a bit hazy, I will admit. I don’t have a long list of resolutions. There are only two things on my list, really, but there is something that has been on my mind for pretty much the whole of last year and it remains a looming question today.
I have been wondering if I should give up blogging.
Blogging. Still such a stupid word. I’ve never been able to get on board with it. Blogging. It sounds so ridiculous. Perhaps it makes me question if this thing I (sometimes) do is ridiculous.
But here’s the thing: If I look over the last eleven years, it is the bravery of those who have spoken their truths that has contributed most to the growth within myself that I am most proud of. Those who write and blog and speak and shout the things that plague their minds are such powerful teachers. It is why reading has always been such a source of inspiration and profound comfort to me. Because every now and then there will be something that makes you stop for a moment and go me too! And this counts for so much.
And so if I can speak openly, and honestly, no matter how hard it may be sometimes, and have it resonate with just one person who might be in need of solace, then surely I have a duty to do so?
The last three years have been the hardest I have ever endured. But also the most life-affirming.
Maybe it’s time that I be brave enough to tell you why.