This is my 500th post

and not all of these posts are created equal, I know. There was that time I went through the Formspring phase and a lot of my posts were just answering random and sometimes stupid questions people asked me [glad that’s over, though I still welcome intelligent questions/comments via the Whaddya Wanna Know tab]. As I started reading more and more blogs (this summer, especially), I have fallen into the habit of reblogging like a fiend, hence the insurgence of photographs and words that are not mine. But I like it, because celebrating things that I stumble across elsewhere and love is still celebrating myself. And so, some of these posts have required more work and time than others. Sometimes I just post things that make me smile. Some posts come from places of joy, some from places of pain, some come from places of puzzlement, and many of a myriad of categories come from a place of introspection. I’ve talked about things that some people think I should keep to myself, and I’m sure that some of you are hardcore judging me for at least a few of them, but whatever, this is a safe space to be me and express my ideas, and I cherish that. I hope I’ve surprised some of you at least once or twice. I’ve gotten more and more comfortable with this whole putting-my-entire-life-on-the-internet-for-friends-and-randos-to-see thing as time has gone on, and I think it’s turning me into a person who is more open generally in life. So even if some of these posts are more valuable than others, and there are some things I’ve said that I wouldn’t even stand by anymore, 500 posts feels like a milestone. 

You know, I’m not sure I’ve ever felt like as much of a writer as I have since really embracing myself as a blogger. The closest thing to this I’ve felt before, I think, is that period of sophomore and junior years of high school where I was a poet and wrote poems every couple of days. Poem was what I did, like blog is what I do now, but the conventions of poem are less akin to “writing” in my head. I feel like I’ve found my voice through this, and I wasn’t even aware that I had lost it. I feel…vibrant. My dad once told me a long time ago that I needed to stop being so afraid to put myself out there. He will never know this blog exists, but I sometimes wish I could tell him, “Mission accomplished.”

I started this just for myself, entirely as a space to be selfish and focus entirely on me. That’s still very much a large part of it, but an increasingly large part of me is really glad that you, readers, are (presumably, or else why are you still here) getting something out of this, too. Maybe it’s just a voyeuristic thrill; maybe reading about my life, my successes and my fuck-ups, my joys and pains and fears and thrills is like watching a reality show. But I like to think that, sometimes at least, I talk about things that other people think about and want to talk about, or that other people can relate to. I hope I’m not just on the road to developing carpal tunnel syndrome to keep myself busy: I hope I’m entertaining; I hope I’m inspiring from time to time; I hope my thoughts and reflections are applicable to more than just my life. When someone tells me they “get it/me,” or they “co-sign”, or even just that they appreciate this little corner of the internet I have created, I feel as though I have accomplished something beautiful.   

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About alaiyo0685

I'm a kind of quirky, pretty stubborn, way too opinionated, twenty-something, intellectual, introspective, queer, Black, female, in a polyamorous relationship, and this is where I try to figure out my life.

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