It’s sort of like having an intimate relationship fall apart suddenly for ambiguous reasons. And then you spend the next couple of months tiptoeing around each other afraid to make the first move lest you delve into a conversation you don’t know how to start. Or end.
I liken my blog to said friend who’s been left high and dry these past few months and I often find myself “afraid” to log in or emotionally unavailable to write and post pictures. But I think about Blog every day, wonder what Blog is up to, how Blog’s managing on his own in Internet-sphere.
You see, Blog came to me one night as I was feeling sorry for myself after being laid off by my company the day I returned to work from maternity leave. Overnight, I became a housewife and stay-at-home mom not because I chose to be those things but because I had no other choice. I was hurt, sad, angry, lost, but one look into my new baby’s eyes and I promised myself I would make the most of my time at home with him. I set out to document the lull of days spent in Mommydom and hoped in doing so, I could find some peace and beauty in a lifestyle I never knew I would or could have.
So have I reached Mommy nirvana some 11 months later? As with all things, the answer is gray and somewhere in the middle which is why it’s been much harder for me to express myself with Blog as of late. Because I am no longer that reluctant and throw fewer pity parties for myself when I miss out on a wild and crazy night out on the town with fellow 20-somethings. Because I no longer feel like I am missing out.
Thank you, readers, for being there and offering so much support and inspiration. I know I’ve gone from almost daily updates to weeks without so much a peep. I’m happiest when I write everyday and have some sort of human contact with the world that is swirling fast around me. And you offer that to me.
Blog, I’m afraid of you because I don’t know what to say. I can’t be honest when right now I don’t know exactly how I feel about things in my life or what can transpire from this adventure I’ve set out with you. Please pardon a few more months of reckless intermittence.