For the longest time I was not a fan of blogging… and to be honest I would get annoyed by those people that I saw out and about that had to stop and take a pic and blog or post or make sure that the moment was captured, documented and shared with the world… Was all this for their own memory bank later, or was this just a way to validate the moment and have the “like” it to make it real to them.
Then I had kids… it is still amazing to me how no matter how many times you hear kids change everything, you don’t really realize it’s EVERYTHING until every day that passes. After my daughter was born I discovered bloggers, really good ones, that were just writing about their life in a way to make others know that they had the same problems, same experiences, and wanted to sometimes duct tape their amazing wonderful little monsters to the wall for 10 minutes of peace and quiet as well. I was in love and inspired.
After that I read a post from my favourite blogger where she shared some of the dark moments of early mommyhood that no one wants to talk about.
Why is that?
Why are we so determined to capture, crop, edit, filter and then share the seemingly “perfect” moment, but we hide the real ones?
We keep those moments, the ones that can make others feel less alone, less afraid, less ashamed of themselves and hide them, bury them really, deep down inside. Sharing is SO hard, I get that. Sharing something that maybe you are ashamed of yourself (when you shouldn’t be!) is even harder. But then I look around at all the people that are begging to not feel alone in their experiences. I think of how alone I felt after my first miscarriage, until someone took my hand and told me I wasn’t. I want to be that hand for someone else. I am willing to share it all with you, the good, the bad, the ugly, and the stuff I buried way down deep. Or as I call it “The Low Down and Dirty”… to be continued…