I’ve got to be honest with you. A lot of things that happen in my life never make it onto the blog. I may be an “oversharer” in many ways, but there are just some things which are too personal to put out there. I remember sitting in a session at BritMums Live last year and hearing Her Melness Speaks, Rachael Lucas, and Cherry Menlove all agree that some things are just too sacred to share, despite being incredibly “blogworthy”, and I couldn’t agree more. My blog has always been a place where my heart is revealed over and over again, but sometimes the things in my heart never make it onto the screen.
But sometimes, this holding back, makes blogging hard. I’ve written before about how, for me, blogging is all about community and I have made some incredible friends through my journey so far. Many of those friendships have been built through mutual experiences, times when it has been so amazing to hear someone else say “me too” when you feel utterly alone. And so when facing challenging times becomes something you simply cannot write about it can feel like you’ve lost one of your biggest sources of support, encouragement and inspiration. Times when people in your close circle of friends in real life simply won’t understand what you’re going through, but you know someone online will.
This year has been one of those times. I’ve been refinding my voice over the past few months and had a really wonderful moment last week when I realised how much my blog has grown in such a short period of time. And yet one of the biggest and scariest things I have ever had to face has been shut behind a closed door. I thought I was okay with that, I knew the reason (or reasons) for keeping it that way, but suddenly it just feels like too much. I feel like I’m losing the battle and the one place I usually come to seek refuge is not an option any more.
But it’s not my story to tell. I am a part of it, but that is a long way from it being my story. One day I might share it, one day when the storm has passed. But not now, not today. All I can say is that someone I love it hurting, terribly, and there’s nothing I can do about it. The depth of their pain, the all-encompassing nature of it, is more terrifying than anything I have ever faced before. And for the first time in my life I feel truly hopeless.
Blogging isn’t going to change that. The hopeless feeling will still be there. But still, right now I wish it could. I wish someone could say, “I’ve been there too” and share their story with me. I wish there was a guidebook for this, a message of hope that all will be well. Because right now, I feel lost, and alone, and that’s the last thing any of us needs!