This is my 1400th post.
Today is my 5 year blogversary.
And I am excited (and scared) to announce that I’m moving on from this space.
I started this blog five years ago because I was lost and hurting and didn’t know where to turn.
I kept writing because this space helped me process all. the. things. and because the kindness, support and understanding I received here was unmatched in my real life.
Rereading that first post is like touching a shadow of my former self. I was in so much pain back then and I felt so incredibly alone. Paralyzed by anxiety and fear, I tried to sort through the grief of losing my first pregnancy, the physical and emotional destruction of the ectopic and the insanity-inducing uncertainty of ever becoming a mother. There were few people in my life I could turn to–I didn’t know where to go with the raw hurt and bitter tears that seemed to spill endlessly from me.
So I created this blog and I started to write.
And I never stopped.
This blog has seen me through the most transformative five years of my adult life. This space–and all of you–has seen me through healing after my loss, almost debilitating anxiety during my first pregnancy, manic emotional oscillation throughout my first years as a mother, frustration and confusion as I TTCed for a second time, heartache in the aftermath of our infertility diagnoses, elation over our unexpected second pregnancy and the difficult transition to a family of four. It has sheltered me from the storms of my marital problems, weathered the challenges of raising a spirited little girl, and provided safe harbor when the transition to motherhood left me adrift at sea.
This space has given me so many things, but the gift I most cherish is a renewed belief in myself as a writer. I grew up with pen and journal in hand, but somewhere along the way I lost sight of that part of myself. I think I believed it could never lead to anything, and therefore shouldn’t be pursued, so I set it aside. I didn’t realize how much of myself I left behind when I stopped writing. Then the words poured out in this space, and I found it impossible to contain them.
In the weeks after attending the BlogHer conference I promised myself I would pursue the part of me that I set aside so long ago. I thought long and hard about what that pursuit might look like, and after much soul searching and deliberation I decided on a path.
It is clear to me that I will never feel comfortable writing online under my real name. The implications to my personal and professional life are too great–I don’t trust the emotional maturity of the middle schoolers I teach or the high schoolers they become (and frankly, I don’t trust their parents much either). It’s also clear that I can’t keep writing in two places at once–it’s impossible to dedicate myself to two space, and two different voices, while working full time and parenting two children.
It was with gratitude and grief that I made the difficult decision to stop writing here so I could open a new space–under a new nom de plum–and focus on the next step of my writing journey, and my life.
The reality is my new space will be much like this one. It will be me, writing about my life. The only difference will be in how I write about it. The new space will be honest, sometimes brutally so–it will absolutely chronicle my authentic journey through this life that I’m so lucky live–but it will also reflect intentional choices in the ways I experience that journey. The view will be the same, but the lens will be slightly different.
In this space I have bared my soul with absolutely no filter. I put myself out there, sometimes festering and raw, and in the open air of this space I was healed. But that unfiltered honesty hasn’t been without consequences and I’m learning, as I get older, that not everything needs to be said, and if it does, there are better–and worse–ways to say it. As a wise friend recently reminded me, you can’t blog in a vacuum. I’ve been doing that–or attempting as much–for far too long. It’s time to grow up and learn my lessons.
This space has shown me who I am. My new space will show me who I want to be.
In most ways I’m excited for this new journey. I’m ready for the change and I look forward to what my new space will be. I’m eager to start fresh, with all the knowledge I’ve gained from five years of stumbling around the blogosphere. My only regret is the readers I’m sure to lose in the move. I hope you all will come with me, but I know some of you will not. Whatever your choice, please know that you were cherished here, those of you who commented and those of you who simply read my words.
There may be those who see this as a departure from the community, and while it’s true that my new blog won’t center around infertility or loss, both will always be themes in my writing because they have fundamentally changed the way I see the world. I don’t see myself as leaving–I will continue reading and commenting on all the blogs I did before. For me it’s more like I’m moving to a new house, on a new street; I’m not trying to flee the neighborhood.
I wanted to have my new space up and running for this post so I could link to it and send you there, but it’s been a truly insane last couple of weeks and that didn’t happen. I’ll continue posting here throughout next week–after three weeks of radio silence I have LOTS to say–and hopefully by the following Monday I’ll be able to give you all my new address and show you around my new digs.
In the meantime I’ll still be reading and commenting–and writing here again. It’s good to be back.