What's my purpose?

 I'm not sure. 

Well, at least my purpose in writing here again.  

Back in the day (Lord, now I feel ancient), blogging was all about what niche you belonged in, and I knew I fit into the homemaker lifestyle niche, but I felt like such a fraud. I was a new wife, second-time mom, but first-time stay-at-home mom, and I was living eight hours away from any sort of support. 

I didn't have the confidence in my ability to take people along with me on that journey. Especially when things got tough in life. I never felt comfortable being the "turotrial" gal or the life is roses gal. Then my marriage hit a few speed bumps (hell lets call them what they were, pot hole tire killers) and I couldn't transition from being all happy sunshiney to doom and gloom without feeling like I would lose my readers. I was scared to be authentic because I didn't know how to be. 

Life in your late 20's to early 30's is rough when you're introverted as hell and undiagnosed bipolar. Toss in a stressed-out marriage, and you find yourself hanging on by the tips of your fingernails.  So I stopped writing and focused on my life, myself, my marriage, and my kids. I've tried a few times over the years to get back into things, but I always started with the wrong mindset. 

Mister and I are stronger than ever after 18 years of marriage in 2025

I wanted readers to share my story with. The only way to do that in my mind was to belong to a niche, something I could never quite nail down. I was still struggling with being authentic, but catchy. Then things started moving to vlogging and TikTok. Which I hated, but still gave it a try.  

Boy, was that a mistake. I shut down my creative side even more by getting bogged down in making sure angles and lighting were right. I have a huge respect for content creators; it's so much more work than most people understand. The hours of filming, editing, commenting, sharing, and more. It truly is insane.  My creative shutdown has lasted a couple of years now. The timing has never felt right, but the other night it hit me. I really don't want to write for others. 

I just want a place that isn't Facebook to set down my thoughts. Yeah, there is journaling, which I do do. But blogging has always felt different to me. I guess there's this tiny part of me that still wants to interaction of readers to share my stories with; however, it's no longer the driving goal. 

So, what is my purpose here then?

As far as I see it, my purpose is to be me as acutely as I can. 

The 'new' me isn't afraid to ask a stranger to take a selfie with me
 cause he's dressed like a Ghostbuster while stocking at Walmart. 

I want to share the day-to-day, the homemaking, the crafts, the reading, the cooking (I swear no long posts about my great-great-grandma's dad who taught this recipe to soldiers),  and I want to share the ups and downs. The rantings and ravings. The depressed thoughts days, the "oh look shiny" days, the rabbit hole research days. I want all of it. 

And I want it in my voice. Not what I think people want to hear. If I want to curse occasionaly well then fuck it, I will, but it won't be all the time. (I don't think, I mean I do cuss a lot in real life, but it makes me happy, so there's that). The point is, I don't want to feel edited for some social rules that do or don't exist, even if it's self-imposed. 

I remember this blogger from years ago named Eden. She lived in Austrialia and she was so authentically rawly herself, and I admired her for it. I didn't know how to be that then. I was too scared. 

So yeah, my purpose is to be me. 

If you like me, great; if you don't, you can click on out of here with no hard feelings, I promise.