100 blogs. 100 Wednesdays spent tapping on the keys of my old HP. 100 nerve induced waves of panic as my writing is sent off into the world wide web. I convince myself that only my Mother reads, a few friends occasionally, but then I’m at a bar in my home town and someone says ‘What’s that on your skirt?’ I look down to inspect. ‘Is it cum?!’ They laugh, they’re referencing an extremely uncomfortable moment in my life – but I shared it with them, so well within their rights. Occasionally it’s easier to spout the truth if you assume that no one is there to receive it. That’s the beauty of the internet I suppose, of a generation trapped behind a screen, it’s not real, except to me it is. This blog has been a source of purpose, an outlet for my pain, my confusion, my joy. I have, not consistently, but I have tried to pour light, love and honesty into every word that I have typed. Even on the blogs that I clearly wrote an hour before – on my phone on the tube home from work – in the middle of dinner with a friend – In amongst the goings on of my mundane yet hectic life. I have strived to ask myself to reveal the darkest parts, the bits I’d like to hide, the things I tend to cover up with laughter and Instagram filters. The pain that I have felt when loving other people, when loving myself, when not loving my self and when not being loved by other people. The humour that I use to help the pain, my comic relief, I have shared in the hope that someone reading may feel the same, may think ‘I thought it was only me’. From writing this blog I have learnt that it is rarely only you, that your experience, your feelings are rarely unique. Valid, yes. But not singular, mirrored endlessly by people who are also treading the boards of early adulthood. Of people who have also looked in the mirror and said unkind words, who have masturbated in an aeroplane toilet, who have had one nights stands and have regretted it, who also can’t stand Barbara who constantly asks about why they’re single, who also can’t find a job, get there life together, make any good decisions. You’re truly never alone, even when you are.
So what have I learnt? I’ve learnt that improving my writing is not a clear trajectory, that consistently writing a blog for 100 weeks does not actually make you a better writer. Fuck. It really doesn’t – I’ve had some real shockers. It doesn’t get easier. I still get stuck, I still spell words wrong and make countless typos. I still get scared when I click publish and I hate to read anything back.
I have learnt that we need to be more open – that taboo topics should not exist – if we’re experiencing something – we need to speak about it. I’ve realised that boys don’t like to have a light shone on their downfalls. I’ve realised that girls can be unbelievably supportive and will always reach out to say: ‘Omg me too babe’.
Most importantly, I have learnt that if you pour into something consistently, if you commit to something, a habit, a hobby, a profession – it will grow. Perhaps not in numbers – there are still about 32 of you. And perhaps not in monetary value, by owning this blog I lose money. But it is valuable. Faye shared a passage with me a few weeks ago, from a book she’s reading about an ultra-marathon runner. I don’t like running but, I did like what he said.
We live in a n instant gratification culture. We want what we want when we want it. But the best things in life are hard wrought. They require extreme patience. Stop resisting the truth. Stop trying to rush results. And disengage with the overnight success fantasy…Finding Ultra – Rich roll.
Let go of the end game. Instead, fall in love with the process. Show up for life with enthusiasm and commitment. Connect with spirit. Wrestle with your sould and relish every hardship. Along the way, be patient. Go gently. And give freely of yourself to others. Because its the journey that truly gives your path meaning. And there truly is no destination.
It suddenly made so much sense. Everything that I have given to writing this blog has not been wasted because I have seen no real results. The results are nuanced. The results are in the discipline that I am learning through having a deadline. The results are in the conversations that I have with people who felt ashamed to speak about certain things. The results are in the words on a page, whether they are shit or Shakespeare, they are my words. I don’t know where the blog will have taken me in five years time- a book deal? My own TV show? A podcast? A useless but detailed catalogue of embarrassing tales? Who knows. All I know is that I am glad to write it, I am even more glad that you are reading it. Still. After all of these weeks, 100 to be exact. Thank you.
I implore you, what do you want to start today? No matter what comes of it, who might know about it and what you might achieve – what would you like to invest time in. Because you can do it, and it may not be easy or an over night success but it will be rewarding in so many ways, even when it is challenging.
Thank you for reading – it means the world to me – here’s to the next 100.