I've been blogging for half of my life. Um, what? I just realized this, literally one minute ago.
I started blogging when I was 12 years old, on good ol' Xanga. (RIP, Xanga. ...Let's be real.)
And I blogged there until I was like...18? And then I used Tumblr. And then I moved to this blog right here when I was 19 years old.
Maybe this isn't actually weird, and me thinking it's weird, is what's weird.
I never cared about my "voice" until blogging became, like, a thing.
And some days I felt like I wanted to be able to just "talk."
And other times I felt like I wasn't good enough because I didn't sound like a real writer.
And this is probably the millionth time I've blogged about my blogging voice.
But I think I for real, finally, once again, am not worried about this.
I think that I used to be just...so focused on wanting to be seen and be somebody.I guess I forgot that I already am somebody.
I may not ever get a book deal because of my blog, or be featured in a magazine, or a documentary, or whatthehellever.
But maybe I make a friend. Or brighten a day. Or piss somebody off because I say what I think. I like all of that stuff...Because it probably means I'm being real***, not forcing myself into this weird mold of what I thought a blogger should be.
Do I even make sense? (This is my catchphrase, guys.)
I guess I'm just glad I'm done taking blogging so seriously.
Because...no one cares. They really, truly don't.
***Please don't take this the wrong way. Obviously the other stuff doesn't mean that you AREN'T being real. This is regarding myself.