I was doing a bit of work on my blog this morning and found myself reading back through my first couple of months of posts – December 2009 and January 2010. I was all ready to cringe with embarrassment, but actually they weren’t bad.
What was clear straight away was just how personal they felt; too personal if anything. The posts were short, (like this one), but they were like little glimpses into my mind; reading them I felt almost like an intruder, stealing a peak into my family life. They felt a little bit sad, and although funny in places, they lacked the tongue-in-cheek style humour that has developed over the years. There was a sense of loneliness, particularly during the first month, of having been on my own as a parent, emotionally if not physically, for a long time.
What I also noticed was how quickly I seemed to get into my stride. Even over those first few months I could sense myself growing in confidence, moving from stories of Christmases alone with my children and stolen moments of quiet in the early mornings to complaining about the children’s disgust at being asked to wear coats in January.
When I think of myself five years ago compared to now I’m certain that I’ve grown immensely in confidence. I think about the way that I worked then and the behaviour I tolerated from the men in my life and I feel sure that the 2015 version of me would have something to say about it.
How much, I wonder, has blogging helped this personal growth? Has finding my voice online contributed to feeling more sure of it offline too? Five years from now, how might I have changed further? What will I think of the 2015 me when I hit my ten year blogging birthday?