Since the time I could be on the internet unsupervised, I’ve had some sort of online presence. But blogging in this current climate can really snuff my spark, if I let it.

I had a Xanga in middle school, so I consider myself old school when it comes to blogging - a word I kind of can’t stand now, because it feels like most blogs are for anything but fun, which is what drew me to making my own in the first place (versus, y’know, going outdoors like other 12-year-olds).

Sometimes I’m uncomfortable even telling people I do it in my spare time, because that opens the door for questions that look at bl**ging from the perspective of business instead of enjoyment. With the way we use social media today, it’s not hard to feel inadequate when your platform is more hobby than hustle, because it feels like literally everyone is putting an influencer spin on their pages.

The whole thing can leave you feeling very uninspired, especially when you don’t have the following or engagement you feel equates to success. Personally, nothing makes me feel more invisible than posting something I’m excited about and having it flop (by my own standards).

I tried to convert myself to a business mind, especially early on. I read and screenshotted any free “how-to” articles I could find, I went to meetups, I invested in coaching, but it didn’t and still doesn’t click for me in that way. And that’s ok - especially since I’ve stopped wasting my money trying to One Size Fits All my creative side.

One thing I particularly love about social media is that for as many hashtag #ads posts there are, there are also uploads from people just making stuff and doing their thing (sure, a lot of them are freakishly talented and getting paid for it and open you up to even more creation insecurity, but 🗣that’s not what this is about right now). It’s always inspiring to me to see people maintain their lane and their pace but still get the social confidence push needed to keep plugging along. Even if you aren’t selling anything, so to speak, it’s nice to have that acknowledgement that what you’re doing is actually of interest and use to others.

Humans of New York is one of my favorites because the photographer, Brandon Stanton, took the foreign concept of actually going outside and talking to people and turned it into this amazing feed for awareness, social change, and even some self-reflection. All of the stories shared can strike a chord with just about any reader, but this one in particular caught my attention because I saw it right around the time I decided I was going to sit down and type all of this.

Quoting the bit that stood out to me, in case this post outlasts the link:

And every story you see elevated on social media is: ‘I loved this thing. It became my passion. And then it became my career.’ There’s not many people saying: ‘My job isn’t my passion, but I love mountain biking on the weekends. And that’s enough for me.’ I think the feeling I’m trying to resolve is a sense of ‘enoughness.’ There’s so much I love about my life, but I spend most of my time at work. Is it OK to get my joy outside of work? Or does my passion need to be tied to my livelihood and a sense of responsibility?
— A Woman in Toronto Talking to @HumansofNY

Sammmmeee, homegirl in Toronto, sameeee.

It took me roughly 7 paragraphs to get to this deeper point, but the only way to battle the burnout is to be enough for you - so, to reverse what Toronto Friend is saying, creating content doesn’t always have to lead to a payout (even though that is extremely dope). Sometimes you do it just because you’re feeling it, and if that’s enough for you, then it’s more than enough for anyone that decides to come along and like it.

The Committee of Better Bl**ging would say you should end your posts with a call-to-action, but in the spirit of Ruck Fules, I will end this with a promise to figure out how to write without using “I” so much.

Ada JComment