I read the other day that people are longing for “real” online. Social media is so full of “fake” that people are yearning for authenticity. The perfect farmhouse kitchens inspire us, the filters make our skin look smooth (I ain’t even mad at the right filter.), and the barely breathless workouts that look easy motivate us to get off the couch. Are people really sick of all that?
Y’all, this is scary. Writing about my life, sharing my thoughts, and revealing my insecurities is akin to standing on the courthouse square naked. Vulnerability is hard. Allowing people to see different sides of me, spilling my guts, and (*gasp*) being myself in a public forum is tough. What could possibly become of that? And who cares?
I’m not sure about any of this, but I can tell you that it gives me a mighty fine outlet for sorting through my feels. I like the writing practice, too. Occasionally, someone laughs (with me!). And when I hear that folks relate or something I said helped them, it’s awfully good for my soul.
I will tell you that I dance a happy, little jig when someone new follows the page or likes a post. My heart is aflutter if someone comments on a post. And I sweatergawd when somebody SHARES a post, I tear up just a little. Sharing with all of you means a lot to me, helping people means a lot to me, and creating this neat little sense of community with like-minded folks means a lot to me. I would love for it to get bigger, take on a life, and reach far and wide, not gonna lie. I would love to write a book. I would love to know I made a difference.
I read about blogging, social media influencers, and fledgling writers a lot. It seems that quality and consistent content is the way to go. Blogs can make money. Influencers can, well, influence. Is that me? I’m not sure. But, Y’all, this is the “real” if that’s what you’re searching for amidst the “fake” on social media. My laundry is piled, my toilet is dirty, and forget shit I’m supposed to do. My kids drive me nuts sometimes, and I let dishes pile up in the sink. I don’t always like myself when I look in in the mirror (Fatty Boom-Ba-Latty), and sometimes (despite my mirror disgust) I go a week or two or three without shaving my legs. Boom.
So thanks for following along and riding the wave with me. Thank you for your continued likes, comments, and especially shares. (Y’all, this lady who works at Kroger followed the blog page on Facebook the other day and liked a post, and I nearly flipped. Saw her today and thought, “oh hell, I wonder if she knows it’s me”. ha ha!) Let’s keep going and see where life takes us, shall we, even if this is a little scary. Thank you for giving me the courage!
Amanda Herring, Writer 