"The act of putting pen to paper encourages pause for thought, this in turn makes us think more deeply about life, which helps us regain our equilibrium." ~Norbet Platt
A colleague asked what happened to my voice and so I told her that due to attempting to have a conversation over the din of 5,000 bloggers combined with Grey Goose martinis (three olives please), my vocal chords realized their fate and gave up. There they laid somewhere on 87-North, somewhere near Poughkeepsie I suppose, huffing and puffing and unable to squeak out a sound. Which meant Monday, Tuesday and part of Wednesday I had this husky thing going on. Which, let’s be real, compared to my real voice made me sound almost sultry and sexy. Yeah, I got it. But, you know, I don’t. Anyway, lady bloggers is what my response was to my coworkers.
Yesterday a different colleague asked me about BlogHer. But not in an “Oh, so you blawwwwg?” complete with an eye roll and smirk. He asked because an organization that I often work with needed my assistance in figuring out the world of social media and the who’s who and who to talk to and all that stuff that has become second nature. I told him that I wouldn’t even charge him my consulting fee but would give him the advice for free. He just looked so desperate. And really it’s just communicating, engaging, good content. I was more than happy to help. He then relayed to me that I was the first person that came to mind when it comes to ‘this stuff’. “I told them”, he said “just ask Heather. She knows everything”.
Seven years ago the Washington Post Express (is that still around? Who knows) had a section called “BlogLog” where they would print quotes from the posts of local bloggers. The first time my site was featured in the BlogLog, I clutched the WaPo express and ran to my friend Amy’s desk. I shout whispered with wide eyes that my blog was in there and what was I going to do?! It wasn’t anonymous in fact my name was in the URL but I would have never dared discuss my site in public. Those were my private thoughts after all. My personal stories. All told in public. People weren’t supposed to actually read it! A few months later it happened again but this time she calmly cut it out and left it on my chair. I snatched it up and spent the rest of the day wondering if anyone read my blog. How would they react? Was it good enough? Should I mentally prepare myself for getting fired.
This site is seven years old today. Seven. It’s middle aged in blog years. Good enough but there’s room for improvement and growth and challenge and more. There’s room for more. Seven years ago had a coworker mentioned No Pasa Nada I would have melted into a puddle of shame right then and there. Seven years later I’ve embraced it. That I blog is no longer something to fear but to relish: I get to put my words out there and for better or worse people actually read them. It’s a joy.
It’s hard to write. It’s hard to put your words on the page because a piece of you is on there as well. I worry about criticism but not as much as I once did. I hope that it resonates and thanks to emails and meeting readers in person last weekend, I know that it does. I’ve gone from writing about my life and the hazards of being a fresh college graduate to shedding that layer. I am no more confident in my life but I am more aware of where my talents lie. Writing about politics and my personal thoughts on the process is second nature. Even when I’m not writing (sorry about that, things have been...stressful) I still think about it.
Each year I say thank you because I mean it. I’m happy for my little corner of the Internet and the ever growing, ever changing community. I’m happy that I get to share these asinine experiences and hope that others learn from my mistakes and challenges. I’m happy that at almost 30 I can find comfort in being out there and exposed for all to see.
Despite what I might say or what might be perceived I am, most of all, happy. Sometimes it just takes a cursor blinking on the page to get it out.