Telling my stories

I used to blog a lot and somewhere along the way I got my hand-slapped and I felt compelled to stop telling my stories.  I feel like the stories are coming back, bubbling to the surface and I'm going to have to write.  I am not exactly sure when I lost my 'words' but I am totally aware that I did, and I know I feel even torn posting about posting again, know this.

I saw a quote someplace that suggested that if you ever had a second thought about posting anything online – even for a second – that it probably should not go up. This made me second guess a lot of what I want to say, write, and half of what I start to post and take back.  

I also feel like I need to take a step back and reassess the things I want to put out there, the direction I want for my blog, my peers, my support group and where I was going with just me, you know?  I started all of this with just me, many years ago, for me.  Blogging filled a need at that time.

I also, honestly feel like everyone was jumping in the blog game trying to get a slice of this thing called work-at-home-luxurious living that they seem to think people like me have (…had?) and I sort of wanted out. I had people telling me that "folks trying to be like you, Beth."

But if they were, they'd be housebound and unemployed*, be jealous, bitch can't even get a gallon of milk, and I am reminded of this ALL DAY LONG.  

Somedays I feel like an ass because I have women posting things like, "You're my inspiration!" when I am over here thinking about that other woman who probably thinks "It's because she has all that free time to work on herself" when in reality my life is pretty …

…much like yours, except much more boring.  

Please don't assume.

*PS.  Now I remember why I began.  


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