A blog post about why I don’t need to blog

It’s been two years since I’ve posted on this blog.

Why the long hiatus? It wasn’t intentional at first, but as time passed, I knew I needed to give myself a break. And to be honest, I’m glad I did.

The purpose of this blog was (and is) to share the ups and downs of life in a vulnerable and authentic way. I never want to seem as if I have the answers or that I’m attempting to paint a picture of my life that isn’t real. We get enough of that on Instagram, right?

Ironically, the purpose of why I started the blog became my living reality. During my senior year of college, I applied for a national competition which gained a lot of attention from my university, including an article announcing me as a semi-finalist, sharing as I became a finalist and asking me to be the cover and have a full page spread in our student magazine describing the interview.

You can imagine the irony when I found out I didn’t win. Since the job opportunity had gained so much attention from my social network, I decided to tap into that and share on social media what most people weren’t: when you don’t get the job offer. That was the first post I used to make my blog public.

Then, after I graduated, I shared about the difficulties of post-grad life. This only compounded when I was laid off from my first job, when I struggled with unemployment, got a new job, and when I grieved a second job loss. My life after college felt like it was spiraling more and more into chaos. I’m sure it was sometimes painful to read about because it was certainly painful to live out.

I value sharing so that others don’t feel isolated in their experiences. That is always the underlying desire of this blog. Over the years, many of you told me how these blog posts have been helpful and how I needed to keep blogging. To this day, I still have people tell me they’ve reread my post about being laid off (my highest viewed post) and I continue to send that post to friends who are laid off or lose their jobs.

Over the years, I’ve been introduced to people because they wanted me to connect with someone else who was walking through unemployment. I’ve had a video telling my story play on screen across multiple locations of my church. I’ve had many friendships initiate or strengthen because of the (unfortunate) bond of job loss.

It’s funny how one life situation can suddenly seem to define you. In the midst of these dark seasons, what kept me going was hoping that God could use my story for good. At times, I saw glimpses of it, but I often wrestled with wishing it was never my story at all.

And if I’m honest, at times, I felt a sense of obligation to make sure I encouraged others in the midst of my suffering. I didn’t feel as much freedom to let myself process how I needed to process. I had chosen to share about my experiences. My friends and family knew what was going on, so I wanted to be a good example “for how to walk through trial”. I can see how my pride and desire for people’s approval sometimes focused my attention on how I was handling my trial versus focusing on handling the trial itself.

Being willing to share about the process (versus just the end result) is an important aspect to authentic vulnerability. However, I began to realize that vulnerability doesn’t always mean that I have to share my realities as they are still in motion.

Between learning more about what it means to be an Enneagram 2 and learning how to establish healthy boundaries, I’ve come to realize that I don’t “owe” anyone my story. Even if my genuine desire is to help others, I need to take care of myself too.

This truth really struck me when I read this in one of Brené Brown’s books:

“I don’t tell stories or share vulnerabilities with the public until I’ve worked through them with the people I love. I have my own boundaries around what I share and what I don’t share and I stay mindful of my intentions.” (Brené Brown from Daring Greatly).

While I value being transparent and real, I realized that I can take time for myself to work through something before writing about it. Even if it’s only to my personal social network, it will still feel vulnerable to publish a post.

The beginning of 2018 was probably the lowest I ever felt (here was my latest blog post for context) and I knew I needed to give myself space to process. I personally decided I would take a break from sharing about my life on this blog.

Well, after two years, I’m back.

To sum up what happened to my career in the last 2 years…

• After the rescinded offer, I took the job search to a whole other level. I didn’t know if I was going to stay in Chicago. I desperately wanted to, but at that point in my career, I needed to explore other cities. I kept my options open (and was met with offers from Atlanta, Charlotte and even Uganda).
• Even though I needed a job, I wanted to take time finding one that aligned with my career goals. A major decision came down to a design role in Atlanta. Would I pick up and leave the community I spent the last 3 years building?
• I traveled to Atlanta and my time there revealed that I wanted to stay and fight for my life in Chicago. While a new job was important, other areas outside of work (particularly my commitment to my local church) was the main reason to keep me in Chicago, so I turned down the offer without having something secured.
• Ironically, while I was in Atlanta determining if I was going to move, I had a phone interview with a company in Chicago. Over the course of the next two months, I kept moving along in the process and after a few rounds of interviews, I received a call that I was offered the job. I started working at a marketing agency on May 1, 2018 and have been there since.

Those are just the highlights; there are countless lessons and stories that come from the above snippets. While I share this update now, having a break from blogging was helpful for me to process the ups and downs on my own, without the temptation to care about how others perceive me.

If any of you have shared something vulnerable on social media, I think you know what I’m talking about. The sinking stomach. The fast-beating heart rate. The nerves and anxieties of what others will think of what you wrote.

I think there will always be some aspect of that because we’re human. Life is messy and if you try to share about it, you’ll probably feel vulnerable.

We don’t owe anyone our stories. The beauty, though, is that our stories are powerful. They can be shared to remind each other of truth, hope and life.

So, will I keep writing? You bet.

I plan to prioritize my writing more this upcoming year and look forward to dusting off this blog again to share thoughts with anyone who wants to read them. I already have a draft about (*spoiler alert*) attending multiple weddings in one year, so stay tuned.

And don’t you worry. My writing will remain vulnerable; however, I will write with the freedom knowing I can (and will) take time for what I need, too.

No matter what I write, my hope remains the same: for you to be encouraged and know that you’re not alone.

Thank you for reading!