Sometimes you have those friends who kick you out of your writing slump and use a writing challenge to get you back into the groove of things. My friend Brittany did just that when she instituted the first month of writing prompts. Seeing as how my posts have been dwindling lately, I chose the prompt "Do you ever feel pressure to be perfect and have it all together, when really you don't"?
I don't know Brittany, do you have the ability to read minds?
Because you just read mine so hard.
A big part of this blogging "business" is creating an online persona... a life that people want to read about. People don't want to see average or even normal. They want to see exceptionally dressed Pinterest mood boards coming to life. They don't want authentic, they want to see how you decorated your space with the same black and white Ikea Ikat pillow that everyone has (I have it too). They want to see a glimpse of perfection, not mom cuts in yoga pants. The internets is a harsh place folks, and a big part of me is afraid of that.
I know what you're thinking, "when you put yourself out there in cyberspace, you are allowing everyone to have an opinion in your life" and I totally agree, but when did it all become so serious? When did we all become so judgy? Why can we all just be real, instead of Modcloth posed mannequins dressed from head to toe in Free People?
I started this space before I really knew the business of blogging. I came here to vent my thoughts and laugh at myself. I invited you all to laugh with me, and you did. I share this blog because hopefully we can all commiserate as parents and people who have no idea what we are doing. I had no idea that there was such an "in crowd" and "cool mom blog club" that I had to kiss ass to join. I had no idea that these things existed and I think you can tell that in my earlier posts. I was naive and free.
I was just Free to be me.
And then to make matters worse I see really successful bloggers (success that I can only dream of) curating everything in their lives just so, and I barely have time to brush my teeth or even dress my kids in actual clothes for the day. Getting caught up in that Instagram scroll can really make you feel like you're not ever good enough.
But then I take a break and a step back from all of the noise and Etsy trends and I go to the park with my kids, and meet people. People like you and me, people who just want to laugh at the fact that my underwear is pulled up higher than my shorts, over my tank top. People who pretend that they aren't staring at the Christmas print on them while they pretend to be interested in whatever I'm ditzily chatting about, instead of calling me out on it. Only when I look down in the car and realize why the quick lower glances were happening, and I burst into ridiculous laughter, and long to share those moments here.
Curate that, Instagram.
I've neglected this space, because I failed to acknowledge what I was really feeling. I was feeling hurt and inadequate. I was feeling the gross pressure of trying to be someone else...someone too cool to even wear granny panties with Christmas prints in the middle of July.
And that ain't me folks.
So follow my imperfect shenanigans and black and white Ikea pillow on Instagram.