Lately my feelings have been getting hurt by a number of comments and emails I’ve been receiving. I know it’s part and parcel with sharing most of my life online, I have to develop a thicker skin but I am still quite sensitive to it all despite my best efforts.
My blog is my space to write and share what inspires me, whatever that may be. Over the years my topics of interest has changed, for example:
In 2006 when I started the blog I was 20, just moved to Sydney with Steve who was my fiance at the time and we had no family and friends within a 350km radius. We’d been trying to fall pregnant for a year with no luck. I blogged because I was lonely and wanted to keep in touch with friends. It was also a way for me to share our wedding plans with family and show off all the cool things we bought as we set up house for the first time as a grown up couple.
In 2007 we moved house and got married, worked, travelled and partied a lot. I drank way too much tequila. I experimented with my sexuality. I wrote a lot about my depression, my dreams and my infertility issues. I also got into scrapbooking.
In 2008 we moved house again. The depression got worse but I’d gotten help from a Dr and was finally seeing a great gynecologist who was helping us “find Aidan”. I was on several nasty cocktails of infertility drugs that did horrible things to my hormones and my head and I used my writing to help deal with those issues. Friends intervened when I started buying nursery pieces on ebay and decorating them when I wasn’t even pregnant. I had surgery and found out I had a really bad case of Endometriosis and I wrote about that too. We moved house again, it’s the same one we’re in now. I started working in a fashion store and tried to forget about babies and focus on myself. I applied to Uni (was accepted but pulled out last minute), bought my first DSLR camera and started setting up my photography business.
In 2009 I found out quite by accident that I was 3 months pregnant and had no idea, I’d just felt sick one day and Steve suggested I take a test. The pregnancy was an unexpected delight. I got so caught up in everything “baby” and to be honest I didn’t think of anything else. The person who I was starting to be was put in a box, all business plans were suspended and I rolled about in my bliss like a pig in mud. I was also nervous and on edge that my baby could be taken away from me (by nature and by strangers) and suffered major anxiety. Writing about all the pleasant stuff was a brilliant distraction from over thinking. Aidan was born via C-Section and I felt quite detached and breastfeeding was a mission. It took me 3 months to get it right and my milk dried up a few weeks after that. I
felt feel extremely guilty and it didn’t help with the feelings of detachment.
In 2010 as Aidan’s feeding and sleeping patterns changed it was really stressful. I put a lot of pressure on myself to get it “right” and do the “best”, even if that meant running myself into the ground. I was also missing parts of myself, my sex drive is important to me but I’d let it flounder. I felt torn in more directions than I had even been in my life and I didn’t know how to deal with it. Calling my mum and leaning on my mothers group (not to mention timtams) was my comfort. I was so busy figuring out how I was going to cope I didn’t notice Steve was finding it difficult too. His wife was stressed out and vacant, no longer fit for adult conversation. We talked a lot about food and poo but as Aidan grew more independent, so did I. The whole household became happier. I learnt to step back.
Those who have been reading for awhile are probably going “WTF, she never talked about any of that stuff that went on in 2010” and for the most part you’d be right. I didn’t want to write about it. Who would want to read a post about a pretty nursery and then right underneath it a post about how I don’t think my son loves me. That I’m jealous of the relationship Steve and Aidan have. That I wonder what I could have done with my life if I hadn’t spent the last five years focused on trying to have a baby. All those things you’re not meant to think let alone write about publicly… unless of course you can slip a witty joke in between to keep it light hearted.
Readers are saying they want more posts about Aidan but I’m just not comfortable writing them all the time. When I do activities with Aidan I just like to be in the moment, especially if it’s pleasant and he isn’t smacking me in the head with a toy car or screaming out for his father. Enjoying being together has taken a lot of time for us, something that even now I feel heartbroken to admit. Remembering to leave the room, grab the camera which then Aidan wants to operate, which leads to tears and then trying to recreate the moment even though we’re both now frustrated and uninterested just seems pointless. It’s even worse to then get to the computer, upload the photos knowing full well they don’t capture that first initial special moment and edit them only to write a post without any heart in it because all those feelings that I’m a terrible mother come back up to the surface and I just don’t want to press publish.
After Aidan turned one and could walk, talk and get around on his own life at home has gotten better. I started exercising, I started meeting new people, I started caring about my appearance, I started my business and that person I shoved into the box all those years ago when I became pregnant, started to creep back out. I was starting to feel more like me again, not a poo/puree/nappy-talking, sleep deprived mess. Blogging for City Chic and Nuffnang gave me so much confidence and that’s when I really started to boost my self esteem. I’d never been more confident in my entire life, I felt like the weight on my shoulders was finally lifting.
The more I grew as an adult (I’m 25) with friends who I could depend on, a business to run, skills to build on and a lovely family to cherish I finally felt safe. I had Steve’s full support to chase my own dreams as I had done for him so they became my focus. Expanding my portfolio, both written and photographic is important to me. Delving into opportunities to be involved in fashion and publications, to attend fancy parties and mingle with fancy people. To be definitive and expressive in my art. To push my self imposed boundaries and see what I could do if I really put my mind to it. For the first time in a long time I believe I can do amazing things. I put that down to being comfortable in my own skin and having loving and supportive people behind me, standing with a net, ready to catch me if I fall.
So those are the things I write about at the moment, those things that make up part of my dream. Things that get me excited, that reaffirm my confidence when it’s slightly lacking. Things that aren’t about babies and nappies and reminders of times that really sucked for me “offline”, times when I felt I was a defective mother. It’s only from looking back that I can see where I was. I’m glad I’m in a happier place and doing fun and exciting things. I hope that what has taken me hours to write and explain has made some sense and you now understand why I love my son but just don’t feel like blogging about him all the time.
Aidan is the sun I revolve around… but not all I see.