While reading “ParisLemon” this morning (the tumblog of former tech journalist MG Siegler), it occurred to me that a rather significant milestone is approachingas 2011 becomes 2012, my blog will be 9 years old.
In reality it’s probably a little over 10 years oldbut I only have record of the posts going back 9 yearsand then only by accident. I’ve been hilariously lackadaisical in terms of looking after the canon of words. Until very recently I only had records going back to 2005and then discovered a backup tucked away containing another couple of years worth (perhaps this proves the point about “keeping hold of stuff just in case”).
Nine years is a long time. I’ve been trying to recall the various things that have occurred over the time; I stopped writing several times. In the early days it was because I didn’t have much of a filterI wrote about things I should not have, and got into commensurate amounts of trouble as a result. I discovered I can’t have children, and wrote about that entire journeybeing on national television talking about it, feeling lost, carrying on The several IVF cycles we went throughthe highs, the lows, and the horrific weekend we lost the unborn baby. The night we talked about adoption seriously for the first time, and W realised how worried I had been during the final IVF attempt (she was sick for the better part of a year afterwards). The entire adoption adventurethe preparation courses, the review panels, the matching panels, the social workers, the machinery of the government, and the afternoon we were suddenly told “there are these three girls”. First days at schools, Christmases, Birthdays, days outLooking back, I wonder what I filled my day with before children. It’s an oft quoted clich that children change youyour hopes, your aspirations, and your dreams. I’ve often mentioned that part of my motivation since having the children is to record who I waswhat I thought aboutwhat my dreams wereso they might know me better when they are grown up, and have a family of their own.
There are days when I don’t feel like writing anything, and other days when I worry about having written too muchexposed too much of myself. There are days when I keep the world at arms length, and days when I want to include everybody.
Perhaps the most important thing is that I’ve kept writingkept sharing. I know a lot of people out there think it’s a bit oddto write about your life and publish it to the worldbut it has also lead to some of the most amazing friendships I have ever had.
Just as others have discovered my writing, I have discovered theirsThe glass artist in Oregon with the young family, the singer songwriter from Oklahoma who stayed with us one summer, the mountain biker from Cornwall who became my best friend, the photographer from Michigan who inspires me every day, the girl I went to infant school with, and many, many more.
These peopleand many others like themnow make me the person I am. They inspire me, and encourage me to share my story as they share theirs. Long may the sharing continue.