2012 is the year of reclaiming myself.
I’m reclaiming a weight not seen in 3 or so years — a weight last achieved by being so depressed at leaving my JET friends when I left Japan, I simply didn’t feel like eating. Hopefully such extreme measures won’t be necessary this go around.
I’m reclaiming my bank account, eating in a lot more frequently and traveling less (boo-hoo-hoo). I was actually pretty good last year with eating dinner at home with Tyler, but lunches were a different story. When the sweet, sweet call of “Indian Food run!” or “Hot SUBS at Jersey Mike’s!” escaped the lips of my coworkers, I simply couldn’t contain myself. Besides, everyone around here works so hard, it was practically the only time during the day I got to socialize with them, or so I convinced myself.
So it helped when Heidi proclaimed this “The Year of Health and Wealth,” as we can now eat miserable homemade sandwiches together at our lunch table, killing both birds with one stone.
I’m reclaiming my writing, diving into the foray of high-scale editing for the first time, working on a few different projects at once. This one gets to be fun, but I anticipate it being pretty time-consuming. 100K+ words aren’t going to edit themselves!
The last thing I’m reclaiming has been a bit of a secret, but I’m tired of letting it dictate how I act online.
I hit the 10 year mark of owning HoneyBeeManor.com last week. In that time, I’ve met some amazing people, a few I still consider my good friends to this day. There were hatas along the way, of course, and you learn to get over it as you grow up, I suppose, but in recent years, there has been one person who made me feel really uncomfortable.
I don’t make a secret of my Twitter name or my deviantART handle, and the YouTubes and formsprings and such aren’t too hard to figure out. While this connects me to many people in a good way, it’s also a little confining when someone you may not necessarily want is following you across these platforms, taking note of your every move and commenting on it — right then or referencing it later.
I tried to put a stop to it years ago, after an inappropriate private comment pushed me over the edge, but one does not simply ask nicely to be left alone on the interwebs.
Don’t get me wrong. I realize this is the price you pay for a public-facing blog, but oftentimes when I would sit down to compose an entry, all I could think of was this one person reading it, letting them into my life, the raw emotions I was feeling, and the wind would just drain out of my sails. That’s right. Wind drains.
I hesitated even to write THIS blog, to dignify this person’s effect on my psyche with a whole entry, but I’m tired of holding myself back. I figured if The People knew — my bee people, my HoneyBees — then I would feel like all my cards were on the table, and I would have no excuse not to blog anymore.
Just like awkwardly announcing that you’re losing weight or writing a 100,000 word novel… by doing so, you’re making everyone your watchdog. Because if they ask you later how much weight you’ve lost or how your novel’s coming, and you don’t have a good answer, well, then you look foolish.
So, Dear Internet,
I didn’t blog for a while because I was scared. I’m not scared anymore. So expect more blogs, please. More blogs, more sass, more mace in your face, and more karate chops. (Seriously on those last two. People should stay at a distance when they meet me in the future.)