Celebrating two years of blogging & what I’ve learned
You’d think we would do a better job at holding on to something as precious as time.
We talk about money, love, coffee ( or is that just me? ) as this mysterious overarching force that makes the world go round but in reality, the only force powerful enough to dictate every inch of our lives is time.
Yet, when the sun rises, we curse it, faced with the unwelcome realisation that we have to go to work.
And when it comes to a screeching halt, 26 minutes before its socially acceptable to go for lunch, we abuse it again.
Day in, day out. We blame time for our problems. How many times have you heard yourself say:
‘There aren’t enough hours in a day”
or
“Time has just flown by today.”
or something to that effect? I obviously understand why. Time dictates everything we do. What to wear, when to eat, what to do, where to go and when. The ultimate dysfunctional relationship and one that we delude ourselves into thinking we have anycontrol over when we have none, not even for a moment.
It’s a terrifying thought, especially when our social media acts as a constant reminder of that very broken relationship. Every day, old photos, videos, screenshots drag us down memory lane whether we want to go or not.
This morning, I reached for my phone on my bedside table. Like every other morning, I scrolled through my Instagram, clicking on my Instagram memories since like most living and breathing human beings on this planet, I am driven by the burning desire to know where I was at this exact moment one year ago and two years ago and so on.
The point is, the memory I stumbled across was the launch of my first blog post which was two years ago today.
Unsurprisingly, in the few hours that have passed since then I haven’t been able to think about much else. Hence the existential crisis about time at the beginning of this post (sorry).
It didn’t prompt me to start cursing or lead into a full-blown panic attack about how I am losing time and not writing fast enough like it might have down two years ago or let’s face it, even last year. However, it has made me reflect on what I’ve learned from blogging since my days of quirky blog titles and oversharing about my mental health and past relationships.
So, here’s the rundown because anything you’ve learned from me in the past two years is that I like a good list.
1. Your blog is not your therapist
I’ve looked back and cringed over the majority of my early posts when reflecting this morning and this is the first thing that came to mind. When I started blogging, I was facing up to my very poor mental health and my anxiety and depression diagnosis. I had set myself a ridiculous challenge to run a half-marathon and blog my progress to raise awareness and money for a centre very close to my heart. I thought the challenge would give me some control over my life and the writing would be an outlet for me to work out my frustrations whilst also being something I could look back on later about my misspent youth. It definitely was both these things in a way but in a very public and exposed setting. I made the choice to divulge very personal thoughts and emotions to all of my Facebook friends and while I don’t regret it, it’s not something I would recommend when you are that vulnerable. I wouldn’t have fallen in love with writing and be pursuing journalism if I hadn't blogged and shared such personal details of my life with people. That being said, there are much healthier ways to process these kinds of struggles which don’t rely on the validation of other people.
2. Not to completely contradict myself but honesty is a powerful thing
Between looking at my blog stats or the private messages I have received from friends and almost complete strangers, the most honest stories are the most powerful ones. Blogging every emotion into a public realm- not just to strangers but people you actually know and see everyday is terrifying. Yet, I learned so much about myself and by extension other people by doing exactly that. A lot of people came up to me or messaged me saying that they couldn’t imagine sharing their experience that publicly which I don’t blame them for. We are not programmed to. Others told me that being so public about my mental health or breaks ups really helped them with their own which was flattering to say the least. I always saw my early blogs as an almost diary where I got out emotions that I had been bottling up. I never imagined that something I had written for myself could actually help someone else. But then I suppose, I always felt less alone once I had put finger to keyboard and I suppose you felt the same, hearing from someone that understands exactly what you are going through.
3. Not everything you write is going to be Shakespeare and you won’t be knocking out Othello on day one
I’ve always loved writing and I’ve always thought that I was a good writer. I’ve been given plenty of encouragement over the years, enough to inflate my ego anyway but I still have a lot to learn. Over the past few years, there have been pieces that have been better than others; better written, better researched, better timed and there have been ones that have been simply the product of a caffiene-deprived lunatic that needed her bed. I’m a better writer now but that’s the point. It takes time and practise and commitment. I have gone on to my NCTJ and woken up to the fact that not everything can be written the same way. A good news story doesn't look like War and Peace. Writing is a skill that you work on and get feedback for. You might have a natural talent but ranting into a frictionless blogosphere without a chance of feedback or criticism means that you won’t only grow as a writer but as a person. How are you ever going to write Othello if you’re still writing glorified diary entries.
4. It’s not always about quantity
I’m not sure if I can date when I started to move away from blogging my training and start to really consider journalism in any capacity as a possible career. It wasn’t like there there was a switch, an on button or a lightbulb above my head or anything. I spent a lot of 2018 obsessively planning and mapping out content for the blog and then as I moved on to other topics, I started thinking about how I could expand my portfolio. Recently, I’ve felt like tundleweed was travelling across my blog homepage. With the amount I study, tutor and when cafes were open waitress, I simply did not have the time to commit to blogging every waking thought i had like I used to. However, now that I have a few articles on my belt, (because apparently that’s where you keep them) I feel more comforatble taking my time. Sure, anything might be a story but not everything has to be a story. Leave time to be inspired, pick the one you want. Writing screeds and screeds might be impressive but you’ll find that the writing will start to be less so. Quantity is important, so is range but quality is essential.
5. The end goal isn’t always about advancing your career either
A lot of these lessons might only feel relevant to inspiring media professionals but truthfully, some of the most entertaining and enjoyable pieces to write have had nothing to do with my career. I am a naturally ambitious and competitive person. For the last year, my life has been consumed by journalism almost to the point that I’m praying towards Newsnight before I go to bed and I’m sneaking ‘Airhead’ by Emily Maitlis under my pillow so that I can sleep. That being said, some of the daft pieces I have done for friends and family for Christmas; the blog posts, the creative writing and the murder mysteries were the most fun. I don’t write because I want a career in journalism. I obviously do (pls give me a job!!) but I write because that’s what I love to do.
I’m sure that there are a million more lessons about blogging and life that this post has rather rudely failed to cover so I’m sorry to disappoint. It might not be about technical tips to get into the industry since that’s something I’m still working out myself. It might not be about managing your mental health or dating or relationships because they are still a mindfield to me. It’s just a note about the passing of time and making a point of not letting these past two years slip away from me.
