Recently I’ve struggled with writing.
Part of it, of course, has to do with the fact that I’m running out of things to say. I’ve said a lot of things here on my blog (and later with my comics and YouTube channel) and for the first few years, it was exciting being able to stand on top of my metaphorical box and shout into the oblivion – and get answers back!
I loved discussing things in the comment section of my blog and was actively reading anywhere between 50 and 85 other blogs every week. I was talking. I was learning. I was seeing the world through other people’s eyes and I loved it.
I was still trying to develop my personal “self” and used this blog as a way to interact with others and constructively figure out the kind of person I wanted to become. When I started this blog I was a 20 year old who had lived in a couple different countries and was in her first serious relationship, well, ever. I think I published my first blog post around Ryosuke and my 8 month anniversary (?) and I continued to write one to three posts a month for the next year, increasing regularity the more page views I got.
The ironic thing is that the more successful my personal brand becomes, the less I feel like I have to say.
The other part is that I feel like I don’t need to prove myself anymore (if that makes sense).
I don’t need to “prove” that I know and love Japan (to justify graduating early to move here). I don’t have to “prove” how compatible my husband and I are despite our different backgrounds and interests (to justify getting married so young and following him here). Honestly, I don’t really feel like I have much to prove anymore (although, to be honest, that might be because I’m getting older and wiser and all that jazz, not because I’ve been blogging for so long. Whatever).
I love my life. I love my husband. I love my job creating content on the internet. I can’t remember a time in my entire life that I’ve felt this consistently happy, no tears, no panic attacks, no freak-outs over the future, and no frustrating feelings of worthlessness over toxic friendships.
This is kind of unfortunate, though, because those bitter, horrible, worthless feelings were what drove me to create things in the first place. It was this source of never-ending, raw motivation that pushed me to spend hours in front of the computer researching, posting, and consuming content.
When I was in high school one of my best friends told me she hoped her favorite band member never resolved issues with his father or found true love, not because she was heartless, but because she loved their music. She understood that the main source of the lead singer’s talent came from those bitter, hurt feelings and was worried that if he became truly happy, he’s stop writing music.
Her frankness on the matter struck with me.
Artists make some of their best work when they’re heartbroken and/or desperate. I am no longer heartbroken or desperate.
I’m glad I’m happy.
I hope y’all are glad I’m happy too, even though that happiness makes my content more boring and irregular.