Best Friends Again - September 26, 2012

When did I forget my writing motto?  I treat every piece I write like it’s my last and I always try to make myself laugh a little.  If it’s the last thing I write, I want people to remember me by it, and if it truly is the last thing I write, then I want to die laughing.


For two weeks, I lost sight of why I write.  It started to be about the number of “likes”, peer approval or being validated by a major, mommy site.  I would hit refresh on Google Analytics and wonder why my visitors were dwindling.  I used to spring out of bed at the sound of my alarm, just so I could move my daughter along and crank out the espresso.  As soon as the house was quiet (sanctuary), I would open my laptop and type until my smile was wide enough or my stomach hurt from cracking up.


If I felt blue, it would cheer me up.  If I wanted to let off some steam, my rant would help me wise up.  It would help me exfoliate all of my frustration and put things into perspective.  My written voice was my best friend.


Well, my best friend and I were in a fight that I didn’t understand for two weeks.  Hanging out with her felt more like a chore.  I was listening to her, but I was getting tired of what I heard.  I was getting tired of the whining and I just wanted to hang up the phone; make some sort of excuse to postpone our next meeting.  It was too much work to be around her.  She was no longer putting any heart into our relationship.  She was a big, fat bore.


Then, this past Saturday, my husband in a moment of extraordinary genius (he will eat that up), said those words that every writer thinks are cliché, but needs to hear from time-to-time, “You need to get back to writing for yourself and not for anyone else.  Write because you enjoy it.”


He was right.  I was only giving my writing 50%, but pretending it was 100%.  I was sitting with her longer, but feeling less satisfied with our meetings.  I was blaming her for our fading relationship, when I was the instigator.


On Sunday, I jumped out of bed.  I didn’t lie there and feel nervous about what I would write or what topic others might like.  I grabbed my cup of coffee, put on noise canceling headphones and wrote whatever I felt like writing.  I had my best friend back and this time I wasn’t going to let anyone else change my mind about how I felt about her.


There are so many women in the blogosphere, who are writers because they love it, but start to fade, looking for recognition from somewhere else.  The only person we have to please is the one staring back at us in the mirror.  I think if we all took the ride together we could conquer the world with support.


I’m terrible at finding extra time to praise my co-workers, other blogging mommies.  I vow to praise at least one from here on out, every single day.  Sometimes we just need to hear that we stirred some kind of emotion, regardless of the form, in someone…anyone…Bueller.


  1. Welcome back, glad you two are seeing eye to eye again. I wish my husband would be encouraging and supportive of my writing. Instead, I think he sees it as a distraction, time away from him and from the kids.

    Hopefully he’ll get over it.

    Great blog post.

    Comment by Teri — September 26, 2012 @ 8:15 am
  2. It’s too bad he isn’t supportive, but you have your co-workers to support you :) I think you need that time away from him to appreciate it or you’ll just get burnt out with a one track mind. I’ll cross my fingers that he comes around!

    Comment by Mommy Unmuted — September 26, 2012 @ 8:19 am
  3. Is this a faze? I’m feeling the same. If I check my google analytics one more time I’m gonna flip :)
    Just writing for you is such good advice. Isn’t this why we started all this in the first place. Thanks for reminding me. Happy wednesday .

    Comment by Molley Mills — September 26, 2012 @ 8:41 am
  4. I have decided to pretend that Google Analytics doesn’t even exist. You should do the same. I’ve deleted the bookmark :)

    Comment by Mommy Unmuted — September 26, 2012 @ 11:03 am
  5. Right.

    Write for the right reasons … because with every post, every word that we search out of our souls, we see ourselves forming: solidifying, taking on shape: we become clearer to ourselves — we see who we are.

    Absolutely. GREAT POST. Thank you.

    Comment by Alexandra — September 26, 2012 @ 3:38 pm
  6. “exfoliate my frustration” –> THAT is a fantastic phrase. Oh, to get everything closer to the surface, the better to exfoliate it…

    Great post!

    Comment by When I Blink — September 26, 2012 @ 3:47 pm
  7. Comments like this always mean a lot to me. Especially, because I love your blog so much!

    Comment by Mommy Unmuted — September 26, 2012 @ 3:48 pm
  8. I just had a facial recently and it just makes sense. Get rid of the stuff on the surface to reach the core, right?

    Comment by Mommy Unmuted — September 26, 2012 @ 4:01 pm
  9. I so needed to hear this tonight!! Sometimes I troll through other blogs–reading as many as 40 a night just to get a feel for what is out there–but I usually walk away feeling a bit overwhelmed and down. I love my blog and have fun with it…but just when I think i’m doing a great job, I will come across a ton of others that are truly AMAZING!!! Then I doubt my own writing style and wonder if I need to switch it up somehow. I’ve discussed this with other bloggy friends and they all say the same thing–be true to yourself; write what you know, not what you think readers want to hear or what you think will make you a popular blogger. This is something I am constantly needing to remind myself!!!

    Comment by Menopausalmother — September 26, 2012 @ 8:04 pm
  10. I’m really glad my post brightened your outlook. If you keep reading only what others write and not writing yourself, then you’re veering away from what you love about it in the first place, right?

    Comment by Mommy Unmuted — September 26, 2012 @ 8:25 pm
  11. It is great your husband is so supportive and understanding to give you such wonderful advice!

    Comment by Happy Little Feet — September 26, 2012 @ 9:54 pm

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