Either write something worth reading or do something worth writing” -Benjamin Franklin
So… I started a blog. I can hear the sighs from here. Great, another mummy blog. Aren’t our portals already bursting at the seams, polluted with overtly opinionated rubbish! I hear you, but I did it.
It’s September 2013. Little One is 2 months old. I’m bored. I clearly need some type of therapy. I begin to write. I have no method. I have no plan. I just sit and write. I write my first ever post – The Non-Human Kind– and hesitantly show Husband. I’m embarrassed. I’m surprised by his reaction; “Do it”, he encourages. It’s one thing to write; It’s a completely different thing to share your thoughts publicly. After mulling the idea for a few days, I do it. I feel compelled to. I don’t want to be this person anymore, walking on eggshells. The band-aid hasn’t been working. Besides, it’s much cheaper than therapy.
“Write hard and clear about what hurts.” – Ernest Hemingway
This has to be one of my most favourite quotes. Write hard. Write clear. I’m not too sure if I have been able to do this eloquently. I know it’s laced with grammatical imperfections and writing convention flaws, but I can honestly say, it certainly hurt.
With each post, I have been made to re-live every single moment. No, I didn’t keep a journal. This is it. Through tears (ok, sobs), shaking hands, thumping chest and hollow stomach, I’d write. I don’t know why- I just did. I would often be surprised with what I mustered to get down. Each step a new revelation, a new level of acceptance, a new depth of understanding… a move closer to forgiveness.
I run and hide from the world each time I click ‘share’. I feel sick. I feel embarrassed. The feelings repeat themselves after each post. I feel like a real idiot, completely overwhelmed by thoughts of inferiority and judgment. My head hurts from the relentless eye rolls I continue to give myself. I’d confess to husband, “This is definitely my last post!”, as I sit overcome with fear. Every single time I’d make such a declaration, I’d receive a private message of appreciation or encouragement by the most unsuspecting people. I’m still in awe. It spurred me on.
Maybe I’ll just write one more…
I’m not interested in any type of fame. My blog has no mention of names or faces. There are no identifiable features ever written. Despite the comments of ‘raw’ and ‘truth’, everything I have written is censored. It is but a snapshot. There is so much more to the story that will remain sacred. There are some things that words cannot define, nor would I be able to ever share in this manner.
I am extremely lucky to have been raised by wise parents, who have taught me the 10-80-10 principle; 10% of people will hate you and will take delight in your downfalls. Ignore them. 80% are completely impartial to you. They don’t delight in your downfalls, but at the same time, just don’t care. Don’t worry about them. The remaining 10% are your people. They are your tribe. They are for you, regardless. They cheer your every success and mourn your every loss. Focus on them.
As I write this, it’s now September 2015. This is my first ever ‘real time’ blog. Little One is now 2 years old and this month marks 2 whole years of ‘The Mummy Wagon’. So this is a shout out to my 10%. My tribe. My people. Yes, this even includes you, phantom Facebook users. We know you are there, scrolling through our pages, taking your feed and leaving without a trace. But mainly, thank you to all those brave people who have used this blog to start ‘those’ conversations. Although the support has been extremely overwhelming at times, thank you to all those who sent those messages, who have liked, commented or even shared these posts. I know it is trivial, but I feel truly humbled that you would do that for me. My 10%.
Thank you.
“Don’t worry about other people’s opinions of you. God never told us to impress people, only to love them.” – Dave Willis
The Mummy Wagon 