writing more

My friend Ray advised me that if I don’t update my blog more, “people will think I’m a slacker,” so I want to think, with you, dear reader, about why I haven’t been writing. I’ve been really tempted lately to try to take this space in a more personal direction, so I’m going to try it, and see how it feels.

I have been so deeply touched by encountering people through their writing, and I am disappointed in myself for not reciprocating. A few months ago, my friend Mimi introduced me to a really wonderful column called Ask Polly. Reading (and re-reading) it has made me want to be a little louder. Of course, those of you who have met me will point out that I am plenty loud already, but I think, sometimes, I am too quiet about the things that matter.

I haven’t been putting my words into the world in a way that will let people find me. I want to stick my neck out more.

A few strands of thought there: first, I’ve started to see social media as UNPAID LABOR (please, read this “on fleek” article about black teens as content creators, it touches on some interesting copyright issues, as well).

Second, I’m old enough now that my peers are having some success as writers, and I’m so sad that I lost sight of my desire to write for money, and, more importantly, of my desire to write about things I care about so that other people can read about them. For a long time, I didn’t believe in myself, and that was turned into anger at a lot of other things. It’s pretty bad that I used to be angry at people who took out huge loans to go to Columbia Journalism School. I’m at a place now where I’m glad that my self-doubt and neuroses prevented me from taking on 6 figures of student loan debt. I feel so secure, and have so much less anxiety, because I have a stable job where I’m saving money and building transferable skills. The truth is, financial security is so essential to my happiness that in some ways I’m grateful for the neurotic self-doubt that drove me to build this for myself, but there’s a part of me that’s still resentful that the neurotic self-doubt exists in the first place. I’m working, still, on coming to terms with that, and I think that writing might help me do some of that work.

But anyway, I should be writing thoughtful things about Uber and disability access, instead of just sounding off in person (or posting articles on Facebook).

I should value my thoughts enough to nurture them. I would like to talk less and think more, and then share those thoughts through writing, and invite people to connect with me more deeply. I don’t know what this looks like for me.

Maybe we can find out together.