I just re-read my first ever blog post in this blog…a rant about Elizabeth Gilbert and her whiny privileged white girl life.
I was an asshole in that post, y’all. No wonder my blog isn’t super mega amazingly popular even though I’m trying to be an amazing mom-blogger with a shiny happy life just like all the OTHER mom-bloggers with their pretty pink and blue pastel lives who are successful.
The thing is though..my life is dirty and not very pretty most of the time. It’s boring and bland as fuck. I struggle with depression, anxiety and joint issues that make me hate my own body most days, even as I am trying to conquer it and make it into something I don’t hate quite so much. My life is anything BUT pretty pink and blue pastels, y’all.
And yet for all the shittiness I deal with on a daily basis, I am FAR more privileged than I was growing up. My house at least has central heat and AC, which in Texas (particularly in the throes of summer where it reaches 100 something degrees nearly every single day) is a necessity. I am married to a mostly not shitty man who sometimes does shitty things (as all men are prone to do). I live in a sort of OK area and my son goes to a mostly OK, non-shitty school (or will, in two weeks when he starts high school). We don’t have much money, but we travel. I am white, which I don’t see as a privilege but then I wasn’t born a poor black child which I suppose confers some kind of privilege upon me that I don’t really understand.
And yet, as a middle-aged American woman, I’m supposed to WANT that pretty pink and blue life. I don’t know why, but it’s always been at the back of my mind that if I don’t have that pink and blue pretty life, I’m doing something wrong.
If I tried to pretend that I had that pretty pink and blue life, I’d be lying to y’all (my readers) and to myself. My life has NEVER been pretty and it probably won’t ever be. I’m no closer to accepting that NOW than I was about 2 1/2 years ago when I started this blog, though.
I’m not even sure why I started this blog (which is my 3rd…I had two LiveJournal blogs and one DeadJournal blog before this), to be honest. I think I did it because I’ve been a blogger for almost half my life at this point and I’d been away from blogging for awhile and I missed it. I wanted to put my thoughts down somewhere and hopefully, have people read them and tell me how fucked up I was..or wasn’t, by comparison. I’d read blogs by famous mommy-bloggers as well as others I admired (like Wil Wheaton and Jenny Lawson) and wanted to be like them.
But it’s becoming clear to me that the harder I try, the more I seem to be falling flat on my stupid face. On one of my LiveJournal blogs, I had hundreds of readers/commenters without even TRYING, y’all. And I’m forced to wonder what’s changed that I don’t have that now? I didn’t do any more promotion of that blog (which has long since been deleted) than I do of this one. It’s like people found it by accident, stayed, loved it and told their friends.
Maybe it’s because in those days, I was much more angry and bitter than I am now. I cussed a LOT more in my blog posts, that’s for sure. I was pissed off at the world and it showed in my writing.
I guess over the last 20 years I’ve changed..and I’m not as popular a blogger as I could be because the world has changed and the kind of person I am is not the kind that ends up being popular these days. I don’t think I’m AS angry and bitter as I was in my younger days, and that’s a good thing. Maybe? I don’t even know.