Warning: This post is completely and utterly self-indulgent. I’m whining, and I know it. If you don’t want to read my whining, please close this window/tab.
It’s time for a confession, dear reader(s). If you know me well, you know that I like to read blogs, and I enjoy writing my own blog. But I have to admit that sometimes I get blog envy. I find myself jealous of those women who have hundreds of blog followers who hang on their every word/picture/Instagram post and they get asked to write guests posts (that they’re paid for!) for other bloggers. Their Twitter feeds have hundreds of followers, and when they post a question on Instagram, they have 28 answers in 9 minutes. At the very least, it must be interesting to have that kind of a loyal following.
But I know that my blog is never going to be one of those blogs. And the thing is that I’m okay with that. I might occasionally get blog envy because I wish that I got more hits or more comments. I might wish that my blogging brought in money or that my blog was prettier to look at. But I don’t think that I’m meant to be that blogger. For one thing, I’m not sure that I’m committed enough to my blog to be one of them. I’m not sure that I want to let you in to every area of my life. I’m pretty honest with my readers. I’m a teacher. I’m in grad school. I’m single. I knit. I’m Byzantine Catholic. I’m open and honest about all of these things, and I don’t mind that. But I’m not sure that I want total strangers to know everything about me. There are some parts of my life that I’d really rather keep away from the internet.
Also, I don’t have fabulous photography or graphic design in every post. I can’t make my blog as aesthetically pleasing as other blogs out there, and I’m okay with that. My hair rarely ever looks perfect, and it is so much harder to manage than you think it is. (And let’s face it; my hair alone is one reason why I’m never going to be the next A Cup of Jo or A Beautiful Mess. Those are lovely and delightful blogs, but their writers do NOT have thick, frizzy hair.)
And I’m not sure that I want to write every day. Trying to write a post once a week (my vague goal for 2015) is hard enough for me. Granted, when I have a knitted finished object to flash that makes it easier, but I don’t always have one. I want writing this blog to be fun for me. I started this blog because I wanted my own corner of the internet where I could talk about my knitting, my books, my food, my tea, and whatever else strikes my fancy. I want to enjoy it; I don’t want it feel like it’s something that I have to do.
Also, I don’t find that there is enough interest in the kind of blog that I write for it to become popular. I don’t think that many people are interested the ramblings of a young Byzantine Catholic woman trying to follow her faith, teach the future, go to grad school, knit, read, and drink as much tea as possible. I’ve tried to write posts about cooking without dairy without any positive feedback, so that’s an avenue I won’t pursue in the future. And while Catholic mommy blogs seem to be immensely popular, there doesn’t (in my experience) seem to be room for or desire for Catholic single women’s blogs.
The purpose of this self-indulgent whine is this: My little corner of the internet feels very lonely to me sometimes. I see more successful bloggers writing books or hiring staff to help with the work that needs to be done. And my blog gets fewer than 100 hits most weeks. When I think about this, I can get frustrated.
But then I remember that I’m not writing for any specific audience. I write for me; I’m writing the blog that I want to read. I wrote my “I may never married” post because I wanted to have a post out in the great blogosphere about what I felt were valuable ways to spend time as a single twenty-something. That title that caused so much trouble among some folks? That was click-bait, my friends; I knew that if I used that title people would read that post. My “Why I want to get married” post was an explanation of why I view marriage as valuable.
I wrote my letters (back in 2012, I think) to my future sons and daughters because I wanted to have those letters in a place where I could find them again someday-and because I thought that maybe someone else would want to read them sometime. I write about knitting because I love it. I write about being Catholic because it’s my greatest passion. I write about the books that I read because I love to read and I like to share the things I love with others.
I’m going to write about trying to pair tea with books. For example, in the near future, I plan on letting you know whether or not drinking Elizabeth Bennet tea or Mr. Darcy tea improves my Pride and Prejudice reading experience. I might write about trying to create outfits that mix my handknits and my store-bought clothing.
I’m going to write about what I like. And if I only get four hits in a day, I’m going to live with that because at least my blog will stay true to who I am. I’ll probably never write a post for pay or write a book or have dozens of people who care what I think. But I’m okay with that. After all, my hair gets frizzy really easily, and I don’t want to be the frizzy-haired blogger. I’d rather just be me with my tea and my books.
(And if you’re wondering why I’m not reading very much these days, well, I am reading. But I don’t think that you want to read book reviews of my grad school textbooks. And I don’t really want to write those. Like I said, I don’t want blogging to be a chore.)