Tell me I’m not the only one.
I can’t be the only one who finds themselves endlessly captivated by the beautifully curated, simply designed, inspiring sea of blogs. Sometimes, it gets to the point where suddenly an hour has passed and I’m left feeling frumpy (I hate all my clothes), uncreative (I only knit and make average photos), and boring (I can’t afford to do anything). It’s not just me, right? I end up kicking myself for spending all that time online when I could have been knitting, baking, sewing, cooking, making hazy/dreamy photographs, etc. instead of admiring the talents of others doing just those things.
I am currently unemployed, taking the time off until September when I become a full time student again, living off our savings, plus I have the tendency to be interested in almost anything. Bookbinding? Entomology? The sewer system in Montreal? Tell me more! All these factors create the perfect storm for spending too much time on the internet.
I remind myself that an online presence, much like other aspects of our lives, is only what we choose to present. I am totally guilty of it myself, which explains why I post photos like the one above from our wedding day, and why there have been long spells of silence on my many different online journals over the years. I just didn’t feel I was doing anything interesting enough to share with the internet. Which of course, isn’t true at all.
I remember reading these thoughts several months ago, and the writer was able to articulate the jumble of thoughts in my head. Even if it seems like others’ lives are more fascinating, whimsical, carefree, and fulfilling, I remind myself that they have bills to pay, fight with their partners, miss their friends and family, don’t know what to make for dinner. Just like me.
The point of this post was to tell you about a blog called Rummey Bears I’ve recently stumbled upon. Not only is it aesthetically pleasing, unpretentious, and charming, it’s honest. I appreciate this post in particular, as it speaks to what I’ve written about above. Thank you, Anna for reminding me that we’re all interesting, and we all struggle, and that no one is perfect.