I’ll start here: read this article. Even if you’re not a writer, I think it will help you to remember to take a nice deep breath and just be for a moment. I always appreciate those small reminders.
I have to be honest, because this is the place, perhaps the only one, where I feel I can be as free from self-conscious worrying as possible. I feel a bit like I am running out of words.
I’m not a chef. I’m hardly a cook. I bake, but that’s really a simple matter of reading more than anything else. I don’t have the pretty near-pro photographs that so, so many others do. I don’t have my own kitchen. I hardly have the extracurricular time anymore to do much in it, anyway. And I am very, very scared that, hard though I am trying, I don’t have a lot to offer readers. I realize that this is normal – but for once, the notion of being normal is not particularly attractive to me.
I don’t really remember a time when I felt that I could use the spoken word spontaneously, with confidence. My brain is not quick enough and I feel like I spend many conversations fighting for the right words, and haranguing myself when I can’t find them. Writing has always just been a much more natural mode of expression for me. But suddenly, I feel as though even written words are slipping away from me. That is very, very scary for me.
Of course, that doesn’t mean I’m going anywhere, because I know they’ll come back. Simply because they have to. In fact, part of the reason I think I have refused to give up on blogging is because it allows me my own space, virtual though it may be, in which to find words and twist and turn them until I like them enough to send them off into the world for all to see.
I hated writing in high school, couldn’t imagine what all those college English majors were thinking. And yet, I ended up one, because in the end, I couldn’t be anything else. At times, I think I still do hate writing – but I need it. I wouldn’t be my extreme-introvert, self-conscious, quiet-to-a-fault, constant-observer self without it.
As wonderful as I’m sure it is to turn one’s blog into a main source of income, I would still much prefer this blog to reflect who I am – a young, confused, honest person who needs to have a space to write and to share my passion for food with whoever will read it.
I’m struggling with a lot of things in my life right now, and I am simply not the kind of writer who can push aside emotions and go on perkily about the wonderful pb & j sandwich I had for lunch when I spent most of the afternoon crying in my car, just because I’d rather write about “what people want to hear.”
So, I have decided to take my mother’s advice (I hear that’s often a smart way to go) and start taking each day, one at a time. And that is what you will see here every day. I really think that’s what Mrs. Fisher, the inspiration for this blog, would prefer anyway. And she had truly impeccable taste.
I rambled my way through this post. I do that, sometimes. But that’s okay. Because when it comes to this blog – my blog – it’s not business; it’s personal.