I miss blogging. What I really miss is wanting to blog. I don't know where I lost the interest in it, since I've always loved writing, but maybe something about the whole "mommy blogging" world turned me off from it.
One thing that really made me stop writing was a comment from a family member. He told me (perhaps jokingly, but one of those "I'm joking, but I'm serious" jokes) that my blog was really not about Brixton anymore as the name (had) implied (Brixton Makes Three), but mostly about me. Me me me. It made me feel icky. Narcissistic, self-important, full of myself. Blogging is that--well, it can be--and often is.
It's amazing, how even at 35 years old, you can still be shamed, however unwittingly.
I think that's a big portion of why I haven't written for the past (almost) year. It shook my confidence. I don't know how to reconcile myself to this. On one hand, yes my blog is about me--my life, the things that happen, my thoughts and opinions, pictures of what is going on here--and I love that. I like sharing it with friends and family that are miles and miles (and oceans) away. I like reading through it myself at times, it's a diary, a scrapbook if you will, of a very important time of my life. On the other hand--I don't think I'm all that special. I'm not especially beautiful or witty. My child, while the pinnacle of gorgeous to my eyes, is probably average (ok, slightly above). I don't live in a magical city where I am doing fabulous things all the time, wear amazingly fashionable clothes, have really anything that is brag-worthy.
So is blogging a good way to express creativity and stay in touch with people, or just another social outlet for our egocentric and attention-craving generation?