Blogging used to be a way for me to relieve stress, work through problems, understand myself, and deliver reverence to my wife, but in 2016, I was doxxed by estranged blood after coming out of the closet as a lesbian trans woman and lost a small and personal blog that enjoyed regular readership by found family and occasional visitors from the blogosphere.
It wasn’t much to look at or read, but for that, it was as an extension of myself and became the most important thing in my life besides my marriage. It gave me a space to truly find out what sort of person I am and what I really care about. Losing it was a traumatic experience that caused me to cloister myself and be unable to even consider blogging again, as if I lost my tangible spirit.
But we grow where we’re planted. I kept in touch with my valued and important family that I’d met in the blogosphere, and I started doing volunteer work to fill the void in my heart where I ended up finding even more family who truly cared for me. I had kinship in a community I could still be a part of, and kin outside of it who always have my ear and mouth and heart.
For all of this, honest introspection is hard to do in a crowd. Family can help us be better but they can’t be solely responsible for every part of one’s own growth. I missed writing and having a sandbox, I missed having a journal, I missed sharing my prayers and worship of my beloved.
And, well, some things do change and some things stay the same, and others are a weird mix of both. I’ve discovered new things about my life only to go looking and not be able to find it outside of the arts and amateur porn. I’ve discovered that I can think about new blogging now as an old soul and it doesn’t hurt.
I’ve discovered that I have things to say about my transfeminine experience, fitness, and my life, that these things all hold great value and wisdom, even if it’s only to and for me.