Confessions of a Beginner Blogger

Reflecting on my first couple months as a blogger has been bitter sweet. Sweet in the sense that I really did it. I created a brand, a website, and a multitude of paragraphs related to everyday things that bring me joy. Investing my time and effort into a product that is truly my own and curating it into something that is not only beautiful but has a bit of substance behind it means a lot to me. It was my hope that the mere act of creating would satisfy a part of me that is often overlooked in my hours of answering emails, phone calls, and taking care of a home.

As someone who abandoned the dream of being an artist in college to find a more stable and guaranteed future, there will always be an itch in my brain to surround myself with color, stories, and a little bit of messiness. The idea of being relatable was never a thought when I was an artist, though–not because of egocentricity but because art was an escape. It was a way to not have to think about your problems but focus all of your attention on making something out of nothing… and I can honestly say I’ve done that for myself.

No longer do I think of art as a distraction from reality but as something to augment it. Similar to the way the right shade of lipstick or a perfectly fitting dress enhances one’s beauty, art is a way to add to an already beautiful life. Now here comes the bitter part: I don’t believe this mentality compliments the goal of social media.

It pains me to say it has been difficult to take this step out of my comfort zone and put my face on something that I am proud of and watch my follower count decrease day-by-day and the number of likes dwindle down to single digits as I establish my rhythm. Having previously only been behind the camera or the brush made it easier to accept a lack of response and chalk it up to a matter of personal taste versus a direct reflection of myself. Lately, I’m embarrassed to say that I’ve been holding my breath whenever I press “post” hoping that I won’t come across as unintelligent, shallow, or ugly (yikes) when I should be excited for the opportunity to celebrate yet another thing that brought me happiness.

This, of course, is not to say I am quitting. I believe in Looking West and its mission. There was a reason I got excited about embarking on this journey to begin with, and it wasn’t for the clout. Growing pains will always be uncomfortable, and right now I am growing. Not necessarily in numbers, but in the way I view myself. I feel my inner monologue shifting from “I hope I don’t annoy everyone” to “I hope I encourage someone”. From “why am I doing this?” to “it is amazing I get to do this”.

Social media, as I have come to find out, does not reward the everyday; it rewards the distraction from everyday. I used to experience art in a similar way. Shifting that mindset was painful, but it was necessary to be firmly rooted in reality and make the best out of situations where it is so easy to believe you are not in control. I may not have control over my “likes”, but I do control how proud of myself I get to be for choosing to celebrate and create in the first place.

Here’s to hoping that the face behind the wet paint encourages the idea that life is meant to be celebrated and something from which not to be distracted. Am I hypocritical for leveraging social media to promote this message? Perhaps; however, it encourages me to take pictures and be intentional with my reflections. Time flies, and there will be a day when I will want to look back on how I dressed in my late twenties, what I did to spoil my friends and how they spoiled me, the way my and Ian’s home looked as a newlywed couple, and how it felt to travel the world with my favorite people…

…and it will never be annoying.

Cheers!