...writing

My husband went to class tonight and so did I. I was a little hesitant about today's subject, though. Creative Writing? I am not a writer. I don't write proficiently. I don't use perfect grammar, and I can't remember the correct structure of a sentance. Although I have a great passion for visual design and arts, I never felt like my writing art was up-to-par. (And consequently was always a little shy about sharing what I wrote.) So, I went to class today with a little trepidation. Nervous about what it would expose. Worried that my classmates would think my writing was silly.

And yet, here I am; sitting in bed with my husband's laptop typing a blog post for the world to see. I probably will post it unedited. It will probably be full of grammatical errors that I will find tomorrow morning, but will already be ingrained in your RSS feed. And the truth is, I am okay with that. This is my safe spot. It is my place. This is what blogging does for me: it gives me freedom. Freedom to not only say what I want, but to share my weaknesses. I don't have to be perfect because I am in my little place. And you still like me. You are still here, reading...even though my posts lack the skill of a seasoned writer. It gives me courage.

Blogging has been an unexpected joy. I started blogging before I had my first child. I didn't know what I was doing and didn't feel like I had anything worthwhile to share with the world. I felt that I was too average. Too boring. I was your average 20-something, married college student. But, something changed. I was inspired by friends to try again...this time without inhibition, without worrying about what other people thought or if other people would read it. I started a new blog with a new name. Sherbet Blossom was born.

I still feel silly sometimes. Exposed. Members of my church congregation or strangers in the grocery store sometimes come up to me, point at my new purse and say, "Cute bag! I saw that on your blog!" or "I loved that sweet post about your husband last week." It always takes me by surprise. People actually read and know about this blog? They actually care what I have to say and want to know my opinion about things. Me?

But that is why I blog. I am the author. The editor. The designer. The idea-comer-uper. I am it. I am important on this blog. I get to write about the things that I care about: from the mundane to the sublime. I can post about those shoes I bought last week and the next day about the handsome love of my life. I can post about my designs and then write about my sweet children. I can post my crafting attempts and my cooking adventures.

And, most importantly, I can remember them. I can look back and read. I can hear my voice and my thoughts in the words. I can smile at the memories of my children's silly antics and salivate at the pictures of favorite recipes.

I blog because I have realized that my life is important. Maybe not to many, but it is to some. I have realized that it is worth documenting. Worth writing about. And so, I will.