Thursday, February 19, 2015

October 16th.

Centennial Bridge, Panama
My last blog entry. It makes sense to call it an entry, a diary of sorts, and on that date I shared a new "must make" that my then boyfriend and I really enjoyed. Superficial shit. Fluff. Accompanied by a typical food photo that totally could have been Instagrammed, pinned on Pinterest, or shared on Facebook. All that 2015 jazz.

I've struggled for quite some time with blogging, with what I want to share, who I want to "be" on here, mixed with who I really am. Those of you who know me know I have a trucker's mouth and drop F-bombs left and right; on this blog I don't think I ever have. I've done a good job at keeping things "politically correct," if you will, knowing that my family and friends and (maybe?) random folks may take a peek here or there, consciously trying not to offend anyone. Which is interesting. And I'm not sure how I feel about it.

There have been times where I do feel more authentic, sharing a small--albeit real--window into my life. It's a funny thing though, privacy, or lack there of. I can feel overwhelmed when I think about what I have put on this here space, posts like this one, allowing myself to be more vulnerable than I usually would. I can't help but to now think, Damn. I knew I shouldn't have listened to people and written that. And now it's still out there. For good.

There's been a lot that has happened in my past that really makes me think twice about allowing people direct access to my life. I question putting my life on blast voluntarily, you know? Once you do, you can't take it back. Sure, I could delete photos and posts that include my ex, or whatever, but people have already seen them. Deleting something off the Internet doesn't delete it from real life, or from memory. Sometimes I wish it were that way. But it's part of my life, part of a lesson now learned, and will be part of how I make decisions in the future. I'm not yet sure what those decisions will mean for the blog moving forward; but I think I'm going to make more of an effort to be real. More me. And that doesn't mean I won't share food photos and new recipes I love, because I really do love to cook. But maybe I'll just include the part where I praised myself out loud for my cooking skills, or when I exclaimed that my meal was "so fucking good."

PS- More photos from Panama to follow

1 comment:

  1. We are who we are regardless of anyone's opinion or judgment of us. May as well enjoy being who you are, I say.

    Really glad you're back to blogging, amiga!

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