To those of you who may say, but my blog is my journal, I would say, “I get it, so is mine, kind of.” Here is what I’ve noticed about my private journal. It is raw, honest, genuine and more positive than anything I’ve ever confessed online. I can say things in there that I would not want posted for the world to see.
(my bestie gave me this journal years ago, I'm now deciding to fill it's pages)
Before I began my blog I read blogs like crazy but would usually end up with a bad taste in my mouth after reading about how smart your kids are. Seeing your beautiful homes left me feeling more jealous than inspired and let’s just skip the part about your adorable husband. As a result of these feelings and insecurities I tend to take the opposite approach by downplaying everything. I’m inclined to cut out the bits and pieces that would make you sick in fear that no one likes a bragger. I like to be relatable, down to earth and funny and I think self deprecating creates that rhythm and so my blog usually follows this trend. But I had to question, where do all these bits and pieces go? These bits and pieces are the ones I really want to remember. Finally it dawned on me that I need to journal these thoughts. I want to write about something my husband did for me that made me swoon and I want to express it in the cheesiest possible way, in a way that if I did it online, you’d be thinking, ya, that chick is compensating for something, she’s probably a complete wreck. I want to write down how amazing I think my daughter is and how much I love this little baby. I want to finally write something GOOD about myself and really believe it. I want it to be in my handwriting, with spelling errors galore. I want to say I really do have the cutest kids in the world without fearing some kind of back lash.
I use to journal in college and in high school when blogs were not a thing when I didn’t have anyone to share my problems with. I spilled my feelings into that journal. The lines on those pages took quite a beating. When I got married I found that I shared such feeling and problems with my partner. As he began to listen and offer advice my journal began collecting dust, years went unrecorded.
I’m happy to say I have now been journaling everyday for last four weeks. My entries are simple, sometimes just a few bullet points. Many of the things I write down would mean nothing to you, like, “Mack took a good nap today, I’m so grateful.” Yet that simple statement means the world to me. You guys, I’m writing it down, privately, and it’s changing my life.