wearing my heart on my sleeve.
I've been thinking a lot about blogging and blogging earnestly ever since I saw the American Blogger trailer this week.
You may or may not have heard about the controversy surrounding this trailer and while I have to agree with much of the criticism being said (not all) I have to say I am still excited to see this film when it's released in June. Whether it is a self-serving film or not, it features many interesting women some with very successful businesses and brands, and I believe it will have a lot to say about how blogging has changed things. Right? Blogging has changed things. It's been a place for us to open up, perhaps be a bit voyeuristic, and celebrate the beauty in everyday life. Blogging has been a place for me to sound off at my best and worst moments, a place for me to do a little soul-searching when I struggled to find my voice in real-time.
A place for me to wear my heart on my sleeve.
I get to be candid here, and while much of what I say is edited a bit, it's not completely edited. I get to put it out here and then let it go.
I began wearing my heart on my sleeve, not when I started this small-time blog but, when I became a mother. I was forced to lay my heart out in the open when Elliott's health challenges became known. Seeing your child walk around on this earth, with all of its beauty and ugliness, is to see a piece of your heart experience it all too. I wish I could say I was still naive to the ugliness of the world and I am sure that in a lot of ways I am, but watching my little boy go through tests and procedures and illness is the stuff that makes my heart break. It's like my heart jumped out of my chest, grew legs, and is sitting beside him, getting poked with an IV and being held down to do something it doesn't want to do. An ache in my chest that radiates every time I am reminded that Elliott is not a typical healthy child. I wish I could switch places with him, let me feel the hurt, the fear of not knowing what to expect, but all I can do is sit by his side and tell him we aren't doing it to him, but for him.
And now.... I have a daughter. I don't know how tender-hearted my girl will be but the world is harsh. How women are objectified in the media and how cruel we as women can sometimes be to each other; it's a scary prospect to send your heart into a world like that. I long to protect my heart. I long to protect them. Those two babes have changed everything and have forced me to be honest with myself. Settling our fears and being up front about things is what we do as bloggers. It's what we do as mamas. In a weird way it's our responsibility. And while many may argue that airing whatever ugly parts of our lives or insecure parts of my mindset exists on the internet is the exact opposite of protecting it, I have to disagree. I am not indulging myself, I am not making a big look at me statement, I am not puffing myself up. I am simply working through the tough stuff as I go and being as earnest as possible. I am protecting my heart and my family by keeping the rose-colored glasses in a drawer.
We need more honesty in this world, and whether the trailer for this film is making a huge look at me statement or not (I am sorry to say my belief is that it is), I know that honesty will peek through. And if I am totally off base and it doesn't, I can at least promise you that you will find it here.
Honestly: I am nervous about Elliott's results for the test he got this week in these photos. He's been sick off and on all winter and I am worried I am doing the wrong thing for him as a caretaker 99% of the time. I worry I take Penelope's health for granted too much and that I'll miss something major down the road. I forget often that I am not just a mother, but a wife too. I think about my appearance way too often and look at my phone more often that I should. I blame others (my husband, my kids, my circumstance) for my lack of creative time when really there is no one to blame. I wish Elliott would be healthy, and I pray at night that my life ends before his ever does.
Friends, I really appreciate that you come here to this space from time to time to take a look at the pieces of my heart I leave out in the open. Sometimes it is not easy. Sometimes I use it as a coping mechanism. But I am here, and you hear me out. Thank you.