Lately I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about the idea of recording one’s life. I’ve been doing it continuously in one form or another for almost as long as I could write. From the diary I kept in elementary school to the countless blogs I’ve contributed to and the sentence-a-day-journal that I still maintain to this day, I’ve always enjoyed writing about and keeping record of my life. None of it is particularly interesting, and I don’t even know what drives me to do it.
I recently had a conversation with my friend Russell about the reasons we both blog, as well as about the reasons we don’t. It’s easy to look back on this little site and see that the frequency of my posts has dropped pretty significantly over the past few years. Can you believe that peachsoda.com will be 14 years old this year? Holy mother of pearl. O__o
When I first discovered computers, I ditched the hand-written diary and would type journal entries and save them as separate .txt documents. Once I learned html, I created this website, where I would post daily updates about my life – I was blogging before blogging was even a term (wow, such hipster).
In high school I began joining blogging communities – b2, WordPress, Blogger, Vox. Vox was my absolute favorite and the one where I posted most frequently… the community and friends that I met on that site changed my life in so many ways, many of which I continue to be close friends with today.
I’ve written hundreds and hundreds of blog posts, some of which go back to my middle school days in the late 90’s. Don’t even try to find those – I burned them all.
As much as I’ve always enjoyed writing about my life, I’ve slowly stopped. What changed? A few things, I think.
Firstly, I began having the fear that by continuing to write about and share my mundane daily life, I would look like a needy teenager who needs the validation of her peers before feeling good about herself. That certainly isn’t the case, and it’s odd because I don’t feel that way at all about others who write publicly. In fact, I quite enjoy reading about my friends’ lives. Their travels, their work, their pets, and even what they ate for breakfast. All of their thoughts and captured moments are small and likely very insignificant on their own, but when you look at them as a whole, you get this beautiful little thing called life.
Secondly, I’ve found that as I’ve gotten older, I have less of a need to share every detail about my life. When you’re young, the world really does feel like it should revolve around you and that everyone should care about what you say or think. And sometimes I still feel this way. But now, when I write or share something, I’m mainly doing it for myself. It’s great if someone wants to take the time to read what I write, but that’s not why I do it.
SO, I’ve decided to throw caution to the wind and began writing publicly again. Last year was easily one of the worst years of my life and I’m still feeling some residual effects of certain events, so I hope that writing (talking?) again will help. More over, this year is going to be incredibly exciting and will contain lots of experiences and memories that I won’t want to forget even the smallest details of.