Still Here ( Kinda)

Much has been said lately about the dreamy days of women's presence on the early internet--the glory days of the personal blog. Every so often I get a media request asking if I might have a philosophical rabbit hole to share about why women like me (Mormon, child-rearing, house domesticating) were such prolific content creators. I have my opinions certainly, but not one of them can overwhelm the boredom I feel when my own voice pontificates on that subject. And really all I am left with is a simple explanation--we were raised in a cult and the first rule of a cult is to make the cult look good.

After all these years of internet writing the one truth that remains constant for me is that insta-publishing is still the greatest predictor of getting themes out of my heavily buzzing head. My mind is certain there's an audience (no matter how small!) that is holding me accountable. This is something my spotty attempts on google doc journal entries attest to--when I am the only audience, I do not write.

I persist in this space because without it I would be a writer without a resume. And I suppose for all of its public perils, blogging is still the coach I've found most compelling. Internet writing requires an agility to turn thoughts over at a real-time pace which sharpens critical thinking skills and builds up a resistance to useless feedback. For all of my philandering on other platforms, this is the one for me.

It is no small thing to claim that the skills I gained from blogging and the ensuing world-wide valuable feedback got me out of that previously-mentioned cult. Now if someone wants to ask me about that...well, I am ready to talk. 

Until then, the fifteen minutes I spent on this boring ass entry cost me three liquid spills on carpet, one dog chewed document, two sibling-on-sibling brawls, and a que of things I am requested to look at and validate as soon as I hit publish. 

But it was worth it.

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