I’m attending a blogging conference this weekend. It’s my first one. I’ve been writing for almost six years, so it’s fair to say that I’ve taken my sweet time putting myself out there in the blogging community.
When I first began writing, I promised to let The Runaway Mama grow organically. I vowed not to force a business strategy (or any kind of strategy) on it at the expense of the joy, creativity, and healing I felt when I carved out an hour or even a few minutes to sit at my computer and write.
I found solace in writing. It allowed me to reconnect with myself at a time when my world revolved solely around the needs of my young children. Putting the chaos and emotion of early motherhood into words gave me a sense of purpose that stay-at-home motherhood had taken away.
To protect it, I purposely chose not to impose plans or goals. I couldn’t fathom being accountable to anyone but my two diaper-clad little boys. But I was also afraid. What if I failed? Or worse, what if no one even noticed I was there?
In good ways and in bad, motherhood swallowed me whole. I disappeared inside its deep, sweeping, pulsing belly. Thankfully, writing spit me back out.
Writing taught me to take risks.
Writing gave me permission to dream.
Writing opened me up.
Writing gave me a voice.
Writing let me be me.
Writing made me a writer.
I’ve grown a lot over the last six years. (So have my two diaper-clad little boys, by the way!) I’m still fiercely protective of my work, but it’s time to shift my view. I’m ready step out from behind the comfort and safety of my computer screen and connect with, learn from, and be inspired by other writers. In person. Face to face. (Gulp.)
I’m excited, nervous, scared, and hopeful about this weekend, which is exactly how I felt when I published my very first blog post and how I know – regardless of how long it took me to get here – that I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.
#BlogU16, here I come! (Just as soon as I decide how many pair of shoes to pack. A Mama needs options!)