I turned off my old “word blog” ages ago.
Right about the time I realized that people related to my day job were Googling me and I…panicked. Although I kept the photoblog going (mostly), I stopped writing, except for my own paper journals. I locked down most of my social network profiles as tightly as possible, and I collapsed into myself, making myself as compact–invisible to anyone not approved by me–as I could. Still, whenever I noticed that someone related to work had searched on my name, I felt sick, even though most of what anyone could find was cat pictures.
And then I went into a years-long deep funk because I had lost my identity. I mean, I had pretty much lost my own goddamn name because it became a signature at the bottom of letters sent to people, some of whom weren’t happy with what I had to tell them. I understood why everyone in a customer service type role was named “Ms. Jones” or “Mr. Smith”: my name no longer had anything to do with who I am, only what I do to earn a paycheck. (Even now, the voices are screaming OMG DON’T BLOG ABOUT WORK DON’T BLOG ABOUT WORK!!!) For several years I bounced around off of the walls of anger, depression, confusion, and grief. Anger. Depression. Confusion. Grief. ANGERDEPRESSIONCONFUSIONGRIEF. Bouncing from one to the other to the other, it was impossible to find an opening, or any light at all, to lead me out of that trap.
How I found my way out of that awful trap and back to this place is a subject for another post (well, several posts, probably). I’m here now, taking a leap of faith. I’m finding my voice again. I’m writing again because there are so many things that interest me, that I want to explore and talk about.
I am writing again because it is so fundamental to who I am. I am here now to take back my name and my identity. To speak my truth.
I laugh (often at myself).
I ride my bicycle.
I create art.
I tilt way to the left, politically.
(Sometimes I tilt way to the left or the right, physically, if I forget my allergy meds and end up with a nasty case of vertigo.)
I am here, 51 years and counting, because I have a wicked great sense of humor.
I am a photographer.
I am a Cat Mom.
I am a practicing yogi.
I am curious.
I am passionate.
I am compassionate.
I am a slightly goofball, middle age woman with the vocabulary of a well-educated sailor.
I am a lioness, born under an Aries Sun and Scorpio Moon.
I am independent.
I am bright.
I am highly spiritual.
I am a warrior.
And I am BACK, my friends!