I used to blog…until I stopped.
Remember the part in Forrest Gump where he decides to walk across the country and one day he just stops? That’s kind of what happened to me with blogging.
I used to blog. A lot. In fact, my little blog was sort of an obsession. It was my catharsis, my connection to the outside world and grew into a way of earning some money. I made so many friends. I got to travel and experience things that I never would have otherwise. Eventually, blogging became the doorway to my current line of work, marketing. I loved it.
It was also problematic in some ways. What I wrote about caused rifts, was constantly scrutinized and became a source of terrible stress. I understand that one must have thick skin to put their story in the eye of the public. Because it was not strangers who hated my blogging, but people who mattered, it lead me to censor myself and ultimately walk away. I hated it.
It’s been a few years since I posted last. My blogging stopped, but my story hasn’t. In fact, it got really Game of Thrones twisted at some points. Okay, maybe not that twisted. But yeah, stuff happened. Stuff I longed to write about. I let my fear of being judged keep me from going back and whenever I tried to blog about something generic and harmless, I just didn’t have it in me. I was a storyteller. Since I couldn’t tell my story, I just remained silent. I regret it.
So I’m starting over. My writing hasn’t improved. My grammar isn’t any better either. I can’t imagine that anyone will care about what I post anymore and that is perfectly okay. I’m not doing this for anyone but me. I still have a story left in me and as long as my fingers can type, damn it…I’m going to tell it.
My name is Kadi and I’m a blogger. Again.
