Sometimes I have a hard time with the idea of my keeping a blog. A big part of this, I think, is simply not thinking I have anything worthwhile to offer. I don’t offer a unique story or perspective, there is nothing special or interesting about my life. I’m just a stay-at-home-mom. And a struggling one at that. I’m not even one of those supermoms. You know the type- the ones who are always getting things done- like baking and crafting and homeschooling and housekeeping and photographing and activities and traveling and sometimes even working as well. Honestly, I love looking at these blogs and drawing inspiration from them, but the thought of leading that kind of busy lifestyle myself is exhausting.
So here I am. A homebody. Trying to write something on the internet on a more or less regular basis. Trying to keep my kids fed and dressed, my marriage progressing, my house in a cleanish state more often than not. Trying to adult and mother and be married and be a good friend and live a good life. Its just a normal and often quiet life.
And its not like I have any thing figured out either. So I wonder: “Who am I to write a blog? Who on earth is going to care about my little musing and my little family?”
But because I don’t think I have anything worthwhile or interesting or unique to say and share is, perhaps, the biggest reason for me to continue writing and sharing. In writing my thoughts and sharing pieces of my life I’m giving myself a voice. This blog isn’t for anyone but myself, and maybe the biggest thing I’ll learn is to exercise my right to have a voice, because my voice matters.
I’m reminded of a poem I recently came across.