I first started a new fangled thing called "blogging" when I first moved to Cincinnati. I wanted a simple way to tell my friends and family about what was happening in my life, even if I didn't talk to them daily.
It was easy. Jot down what was only mind and hit publish. My friends would occasionally check in whenever they were curious. Â
My own little weird corner of the internet where I could share unfiltered all the things I was experiencing and learning and thinking and my people could drop by and visit, when and however long they wanted to.
It felt both connecting and therapeutic. There were no sweeping assertions or conclusions. There was little insight and often no real "point".
It was just life in its most beautiful and honest form.
Eventually I moved to Typepad and Wordpress and then Substack. And what had started as a small personal thing found broader resonance as I shared about building a company while building a family.Â
But as I shifted from a blogging platform to newsletter one, I found my writing changed. I wouldn't have thought it, because the newsletter offered better, easier distribution and yet.Â
I felt this pressure to make my posts mean something if it was going to show up in your inbox. So then I would hoard my thoughts, start weighing and considering them. Seeing if they were "worthy" enough. And too often? I felt they weren't. So I found myself writing less and filtering more.Â
Recently I went back to my old blogs. As I read those confident, naive and raw posts I realized: I missed blogging. Just straight up, inconsequential, unfiltered little posts. That live on my little weird page. Where others are welcome but if they find it's not for them are welcome to never come back.
I shared this in a new little writing group and found resonance amongst other onetime bloggers.
So we're bringing back blogging. Even if it's just a handful of us with our weird little ideas and raw experiences. Digital places to express and be ourselves for no other purpose than just to be.