With a Little Help from My Friends

When I set out to write a blog, my only real intent, or rather the foundation of what I was doing, was simply to have an outlet.

I found motherhood so isolating and life-changing (duh!) that I had to find a way to explore my own essence, the little bits and bobs of who I am that come to the surface through personal writing. I realized that the hopes and dreams of the life left unrealized, along with the frustrations of the life I chose, were grinding me down and somewhere along the line I just didn't feel like me anymore. Hell, I didn't even look like me, but it took me three years to realize that. Blogging gave me a way to draw my own map out of the darkness, a light to shine on the parts of me I'd just as soon keep hidden so that I could scour them clean, repair them, or cast them aside.

At some point, I realized that there were other women out there who felt in ways very much as I did. By blogging I was not only adding my voice to the chorus of joy and woe being sung by countless other mom and dad bloggers, but I was also giving a voice to those not yet ready to share their own experiences.

In reading other blogs, I found hope and encouragement. At times I've read things that broke my heart, others that made me laugh out loud. Many, many blog entries have made me pause to appreciate this life of mine and the many blessings in it, while others have made me yearn ever more for the freedom I gave up to become a parent. The one thing the blogs I enjoy most have in common is the way they make me feel connected to humanity as a whole.

I know. It's crazy. A little mawkish, perhaps. But honest and real.

When I read that A.'s children aren't sleeping either, it allows me to see that I'm not the only one and serves as a reminder, that like millions of mothers before us, both she and I will survive this time in our lives as difficult as it is. And when I see Evilynmo's list of the seven songs she's currently into, it gives me a peek into the life and interest of someone else and opens my eyes (and ears) to new possibilities. It's the same way I feel when I read cable & tweed. I may not listen to half the stuff I read about or go to any of the shows listed, but reading the blog keeps me aware of all the possibilities and who wouldn't want to do that?

Where am I going with all this?

When I first started to write, I often wondered what the hell I was doing. I wondered if anyone would ever read what I wrote and if they did what they would think. I wavered between thinking it didn't matter what anyone thought and actively hoping someone, anyone, would read my blog and react positively to it.

Right now, a friend of mine, who writes a killer blog is thinking of dropping it because he's not sure that it's relevant or that anyone will want to read it. Other friends suggested that his interests are too specific and only people interested in the same stuff would want to read it. At least that's what I took from the e-mail he sent me today.

The thing is neither of us knew the other had a blog until yesterday. I sent him a link to my entry about my NY trip because I was short of time, but wanted to share what happened with him. In turn, he told me about his blog and what's going on.

I think it would be a shame if he quit blogging. Of course, he may convert it all into a web site that is less personal and more focused on his musical interests and that's fine. I just would hate for him to be discouraged and think it's not worth blogging because someone thinks his interests are too narrow.

That's such a big part of why I read blogs. I love taking a peek into the lives of others and seeing how they're not only similar to mine, but different. It makes life far more interesting and rich and varied. I was so happy to read Jeremy's blog and get a peek into what he's reading and listening to; hearing stories about his son.

This was a long and roundabout way of saying thank you to all the wonderful bloggers that help me keep it real even if they don't know they're doing so. And an even longer way of saying to a friend that what you're doing really does matter.