2010 was a difficult year. The first quarter was spent trying to sell our house while my mother’s health rapidly declined. Nathan was three years old and I worked part time both at home and in the office, which was 40 miles away. In April, Mom died and the next day we accepted an offer on our house. Within two months we moved and now that I was closer to my office, I raised my hours to full time out of the house. It was chaos.
The fog finally started to clear and the next thing I knew it was the summer of 2011. I wasn’t happy in my job and needed something more. I started writing again and revived my blog, though I wasn’t sure what I would do with it. I had tried my hand at various niches: parenting, frugal living, and minimalism, but most of it didn’t feel right. Something was missing, yet I kept it up.
In early 2012, as I was still finding my way, I happened upon a tweet that sounded interesting. I followed the link and at the bottom of the post was a yeah write badge. Ever the curious one, I clicked the badge and discovered a whole new world. Bloggers were writing stories, not just how-tos and DIYs. The focus was on the storytelling and suddenly it became clear to me what I’d been missing all along: my own voice. I had been trying to write as I’d seen others write, never putting my own authentic voice in my work.
I was not a frugal living blogger. I did not have the answers to life’s tough parenting questions. I don’t do anything myself that I don’t have to out of desire or necessity. I finally knew what I really wanted to do. I wanted to talk about me.
I spent a few weeks lurking before I decided to give it a go. I sat looking at the first post I planned to submit, staring at the badge I finally figured out how to add, and paused to will myself out of getting ill. If I did this, submitted this post, writers would know I was trying to write. My following up to this point had been approximately 3 people. This was some scary shit.
I did it, then had trouble submitting and left a comment on the post that sounded yelly. This prompted my first conversation with Erica. I still laugh about that because on top of all of my nerves, now the executive editor was going to hate me. But this is what I do. I make friends wherever I go.
I didn’t tank that first week, which was a relief. I showed up the next, and then I kept showing up. I learned. I read every single post – kick off, opening grid, voting. I learned what the editors were looking for and tried to follow their suggestions. I improved. I got recognition. I grew my readership.
In 2013 I started opening the moonshine grid and then a month later I took over the Tuesday post. I cannot tell you what it meant to me that the people I so desperately wanted to impress and was so afraid of pissing off a year earlier now had enough confidence in me to let me in on the behind the scenes action.
More than the vote of confidence, the friendships I’ve made are invaluable to me. If I couldn’t be an editor anymore, I’d be sad. But if these people ceased to be my friends, to have my back, to lift me up on the dark days when my aspirations (writing and otherwise) seem so far out of reach I just want to crawl into a hole and die, I don’t know what I’d do. I’d probably just start digging.
Because, yes, the writing is important. The growth, opportunity, blog traffic, and all the other great stuff that comes along with participation here were and still are important to me. But all of that means nothing without community.
Yeah write is my community, my people, my home.
Happy birthday, yeah write. Erica, what you’ve created here is unparalleled. Thank you for everything. And to the rest of the editors, I’m proud and honored to work with you all. I’m looking forward to what the future holds for all of us.
Feeling sentimental this week as I join in yeah write’s birthday celebration. *sniffle*