Yesterday marked three years that I’ve been registered with WordPress.com.
Three years ago, I registered this blog space so I’d have a place to keep all of the stories running through my head. I thought I would eventually weave them into a memoir.
As you probably know by now, that’s not quite what happened. But what happened instead is something I never could have imagined.
Although this blog doesn’t pay any of my bills or finish my chores, it’s lit a passion within me that I didn’t know existed.
Don’t get me wrong, I’ve known that I love writing about relationships for years. As a sophomore in college (at Louisiana State University), I was approached by the Opinion Editor at The Reveille about writing their weekly “sex” column.
It was a popular column, so I was very flattered. However, the column’s former writer was very racy.
I was a virgin. Literally.
I had no idea if I would have enough to say about sex, love, and relationships. Would people even read it?
What followed was a near-three year journey as the relationship columnist—it was a fun job. It brought many opportunities that I never would have expected. Some were in the spotlight (testing for Playboy), some were ridiculous (going on dates and having the guys ask, “Will this be in your column?”), and some broke my heart (awful letters to the editor).
But I felt so lucky to be able to share my voice about things we can all relate to.
Sometimes, people tell me I’m still piggy-backing off Carrie Bradshaw. Recently, a guy told me I was the “Taylor Swift of blogging.”
I don’t appreciate either of those comments.
I didn’t start writing because of Sex and The City, and I don’t purposely set out to bash my ex-boyfriends in a public forum. My opinions are my own; and my stories are honest.
For these three years, sure, this blog might seem like a place where I’ve come to dump all the emotions I’ve had after dating failures. But, those are just the pieces of my life.
In the next three years, my stories may change, who knows?
When I saw my notice for my three-year anniversary, I got to thinking about time. I try not to bog myself down with time that’s passed me—I usually think about it on my birthday or when the (dreaded) New Year rolls around.
In a way, we all seem to be so obsessed with time, how quickly it comes and goes, the time we’ve lost that we won’t see again.
But when you think about time in terms of a relationship—does it really matter? The longest relationship I’ve ever had lasted for four years. And yes, I loved that man more than I’ve loved any other.
But that’s not to say that other, shorter (much shorter) relationships that I’ve been in weren’t as intense or meaningful.
Whenever I ask someone how long they’ve been dating or married, I’m always impressed when it’s a long time. But what is that? A year? Two?
As my girlfriend told me earlier this year, time is just time.
So for this three-year anniversary, I’m looking forward to the time ahead. I’ve got no clue what the days, months, or years will hold—but I guarantee it’ll be documented right here.
“So ride on up, take your place
And show your face to the morning
Cause one of these days you’ll be born and raised
And it all comes on without warning”
—John Mayer, Born and Raised