To elaborate a bit on the topic of my latest blogpost I want to talk about some of the reasons why I fell off the blogging-bandwagon.
First and foremost life happened and I lacked inspiration. I suddenly had no clue what to write about and also no real desire to sit down and get in touch with what might feel right and important at that moment.
Pair a general feeling of blah-ness with high expectations and I stopped writing anything in fear of it not being what I wanted it to be and it not being authentic enough. As I briefly mentioned before, my perfectionistic views got the best of me. Why even bother doing anything at all when I wasn’t expecting the final product to be of value?
What also didn’t help was that I was being too strict with myself about how often I would blog (I was dead set on posting something every single Monday) and how long each post had to be.
Besides those mundane reasons I am also guilty of fearing judgment. Writing anything publicly is equally exhilarating and terrifying. Especially when opening up about some very personal topics, the thought of what anyone reading might think of it and to take it even further, might think of me as a person has definitely crossed my mind.
With all that being said, what is rather eye-opening is that although no one expected anything from me (I mean, let’s be honest, it’s not like people were impatiently waiting for my updates) I still managed to put all this pressure on myself.
Thinking about it now, I am wondering if I do this way more often than I am aware of.
Or let’s phrase this differently as I know that I do so for sure, but where exactly, in which situations do I make a fuss over something that isn’t as huge as I make it up in my mind? Where else do I blow things out of proportion?
While part of me is innerly screaming that I don’t have an answer to this question yet I am going to leave on this note. Because although I might feel like I owe you a mind-blowing, awe inspiring finish admitting that I don’t have the solution is the most honest answer. While it may seem tempting to always try to unveil a perfectly manicured final version I want to believe that there is also – or maybe even more so? – beauty in embracing the messy drafts from along the way.