I have been staring at this post now for nearly an hour wondering where to begin. I guess I’ll jump in and say it as it is: I nearly deleted my blog tonight.
It’s probably no surprise to anyone reading it that I’ve not been a happy blogger in recent months, or really all year. I’ve written post after post about it, always claiming to be determined to make this space bigger and better than before, only to return with another post a few months later bemoaning how unhappy I still am. Why am I an unhappy blogger you may ask? Because I’m not proud of the content I’m creating anymore. Because, despite the fact that blogging is absolutely not all about numbers, I’m not seeing the growth I want on here. Because I can’t give this space the time it needs, and the time I want to give it. Because all this year, life has got in the way.
Rewind to this time last year and I still lived at home. I’d finish work at 5pm sharp and I wouldn’t worry about it again until the next day. I’d get home at about 6pm unless the traffic was bad or I went to the gym, Mum would have cooked and then I’d have my whole evening to read blogs and work on my own space. Each weekend, Mum would help me take outfit shots, we’d go shopping, I’d see my friends, the only bills I was paying were for my phone and my car. I had freedom, I could breathe.
Fast forward to now and it’s an entirely different kettle of fish. For the last 6 months, I’ve had nobody to help me take my blog pictures unless I could call on friends when they visited me. I leave work at 5.30pm on a good day, and there isn’t a night that goes by when I don’t wake up worrying about what I have to do the next day. I have to work frequent weekends. My whole wage packet each month goes on bills and I can’t even buy myself a t-shirt from Missguided without feeling guilty. When I get in from work I have to cook and clean, and honestly I don’t remember the last time I had time to myself just to relax.
I know, woe is me. The fact is, I’ve grown up. I’m now a fully fledged adult. And I hate it so much.
I sit here and look at my blog and I feel guilty. I feel guilty for moaning because there are thousands of other bloggers out there juggling their life and their blog and doing a much better job of it than I am. There are millions of people out there who have it much worse off than I do. And yet I sit here each night feeling guilty when I don’t want to blog, feeling guilty when I do blog and my content isn’t regular, or isn’t good enough.
And then I thought back to last year, when my blog was making me happy. When I was pleased with the content I was putting out and I ate, slept and breathed blog, and I tried to work out what was missing from my blog now. And I realised, fundamentally, the thing missing the most from my blog was fun.
Back in December, sure I wanted the big following and wanted to be a ~pro blogger~ but most of all I blogged because I loved it, and at some point this year I’ve lost that love along the way when I’ve become too obsessed with being successful, with making ‘it’. With having this dream life that I’m constantly striving towards that I don’t even know exists. And you know what, yeah, when you’re feeling low it’s tricky to pick yourself up, dust yourself off and take yourself back to where you started. Hell, the 4 things that make me happiest on earth (home, my boyfriend, my friends and my blog) are the 4 things I never get time for anymore. I don’t remember the last time I hung out with my friends because we all live in different parts of the country, Michael lives in London so we can only see each other when I’m not working and when we can afford the train tickets, I’ve not been home now since September and I won’t be home again until 23rd December, and well, we all know how I feel about my blog.
But this week I’ve picked myself up, dusted myself off and handed the camera to my flatmate. We got dressed up, we put makeup on, we danced around like idiots and we took blog pictures. Are these perfect outfit shots? Are they heck. The lighting is off, half of them have motion blur and the other half you can barely see the clothes but you know what?
That doesn’t matter.
I didn’t take these shots to show off my All Saints top or my shorts. I took these shots to show off myself, my personality. To remind myself why I fell in love with blogging in the first place. For too long now I’ve let my lack of confidence shine through my photos, for too long now I’ve been doing shoot after shoot forgetting the most important thing of all – enjoyment.
So now, at the end of 2015 I’m starting again. I’m not blogging for the numbers or the clothes or the distant dreams of success in the future. I’m blogging for me. For the love of the outfits, for the enjoyment of taking the pictures. For the fun.