8 years
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I woke up this morning, and as the sunlight crept through the cracks of my curtains, the realisation struck me like a hammer, prompting me to open my eyes wide, after I’d swiped my phone alarm onto the floor. I’m Eight. 8.
I, Paris B, am 8 years old today.
Naturally, in human years I’m not (I’m a lot older) but my blog existence and online persona today celebrates the 8th year of existence, with just as many hiccups.
As I do at this time, I tend to reflect on how I’ve survived the blogging jungle and what I would do or do differently. In my 6th year I confessed my blogging sins and in my 7th year I talked about passion. I didn’t know what to talk about this year, because I almost didn’t make it to my 8th.
I’d toyed with the idea of closing the doors and drawing the curtains last year. The feeling lasted a while, as I tried to get to grip with things. Perhaps, what I wanted to deal with was disappointment and failure and not a small amount of frustration with the way things were going. But then, I realised just what it was that I had, that I knew would carry me into my 9th and hopefully 10th year of blogging.
