Happy Sunday, friends! I am already exhausted from my first week back at work, and getting back into the blogging rhythm has been a little dreadful…and overwhelming, at times. So obviously, I wrote about all of it.
Also, no, you’re not dreaming – that image above features a very rare picture of me heading to Hogwarts because #whynot. I’m a bit late but wait for meeeeeeeee wizards, I shall bring tons of Chocolate Frogs.
Before you ask: yes, these are my bookshelves, so you might see a couple French book titles here. #oops.
I say it more than often on here: blogging has turned my life completely upside down. Not in a way that it gave me all of the free books, allowed me to become rich and sit on my couch all day, swallowed whole by a pile of books. (that’s the dream, right?)
Blogging did made me buy more books, fall in love with reading even more every single day. But blogging also brought me something I did not expect. Something I didn’t even know existed, something big. A community. A gathering of people made of the same breed, made with words and imaginary worlds, made of pages, whether they’re real or in e-books, made of a whole lot of fangirling, sure, but also made of such a fierce love for books it is terrifyingly beautiful.
After almost three years, I have seen the community grow, change. I have seen people coming and going, coming back or not, I have seen small bloggers grow bigger than anyone else in the matter of just a few months while other big bloggers slowed down their rhythm. The community is something that’s alive, eternally changing, moving, constantly adapting. It’s not waiting for anyone and it surely wasn’t waiting for me.
As you might have notice, I was gone for most of the month of August. Traveling, living outside of book blogging. It has been a blast, yet also it has been dreading to come back. Overwhelming, even. The community, people, books, hype, everything that makes the community what it is, just moves so fast. It’s like trying to catch a train on the move. Trying to catch a train you left at one particular station, knowing it might not come back. It will be a whole different train, changed, evolved. For someone very anxious, with a deep fear of missing out and being forgotten, this has been hard.
I remember nervously clicking on the WordPress app, sitting on the bed of an hotel room after a four-hour car drive, making the mistake of checking numbers, stats, comments, seeing that nothing is as wild as before. Like in any place, you have the feeling of belonging when you’re feeling included. In conversations. In comments. Even just seeing that people are still here, looking at your empty corner of the internet while you’re on holidays. Taking a break is refreshing, but feeling like I’m losing my place somewhere is depressing.
Blogging has changed my life, it really has. In the past years, I’ve become more confident, aware of my passion even if it’s one I will probably never be able to turn into something to make a living of. I’ve become happier and more passionate every single day about this blog, these people, this community I met online and love more and more every single day. While my life changed, blogging has been a constant. Yet, just like with everything else, I can’t help but being anxious about it all.
Is my blog good enough?
Am I doing good enough for this?
Am I missing out by taking this break? Will everyone hate me, forget me, hate this post or everything else I write?
Am I really part of something big, or just fooling myself because I’m certainly not a 5 K twitter account screaming about books all day because that’s just not who I am? (I’m trying but twitter makes me anxious at times and a billion times more shy since people are a billion times fiercer on here. I admire them from afar. But that’s a whole other question).
Before you ask the question: YES. Blogging makes me happy. I know that, by the time blogging makes me more anxious, sad or mad, than happy, it will be time to quit. But I’m a hardcore blogger. I’m passionate and because I care so much, I’m bound to ask myself too many questions. To wonder whether or not I belong on a daily basis. To think about whether or not I am good enough. To have fear of missing out on everything.
I’m an anxious person, I guess. But I love blogging.
Whenever I get a notification, a comment, whenever I’m still seeing views on my blog, whenever people are asking how I am or the warm welcome I got when I came back from holidays.. I know it. I know that despite the anxiety, the nervousness, the fear of missing out, that I’m okay, because I got you. The community, or at least my tip of the gigantic iceberg I know, are here and make me feel like I belong. Like it’s okay to have missed out, because I can catch up to speed, or slowly ease my way back in. Like it’s okay to be anxious about it all, because it’s okay to be passionate. Like no matter how anxious I am to raise my hand to try and catch that bookish community train while it always moves ; there’s always someone there to help me hop in.
Are you sometimes a bit anxious about blogging? Do you ask yourself these very same questions like, am I doing okay, am I good enough, am I like, part of this community?
What makes you feel like you belong to the book blogging community? Is it the comments, the views on your blog, chatting on twitter or something else?
Do you have silly fears of missing out on everything when you can’t blog, or is it just me? How do you deal with it all?