I forgot that this blog existed.
A month or so, ago, my therapist recommended that I start a blog. Around five weeks later (today), I finally decided to re-figure out wordpress, and then it turned out I still had an account with one of my email addresses. I had a vague memory of this blog, but I had no idea that I wrote on it for so long. I assumed it was like the blogspots and tumblrs of my past lives. Ephemeral and poorly executed.
These posts, like my old journals, are a time capsule of who I was and what I wanted so many years ago. I read through posts and see my goal of being an HBIC, but not knowing exactly how or what my dream career is… that hasn’t changed. I see the post that I never published about being sad about having been dumped… I’m still single and have been since that breakup. The post about Jane Austen – I still love her, above all other authors, and cherish her works.
I claim to have learned to love myself in college… Well that’s not quite true. I started that learning journey then, but frankly it’s still in progress. From a shy, insecure girl to a self-critical and self-doubt-ridden woman, it will likely be a process I undertake for my entire life.
I looked back on old posts with the intention to archive or trash them and start from scratch. But I don’t want to delete my history, because it erases my growth.
Starting over doesn’t have to mean starting from scratch. It means starting again. Re-starting doesn’t mean that there was an ending; it was just a semicolon.
whatallisonsays 