One year ago, I took a deep breath and brought Sassafrass into the world.
It felt like a big leap but, like the choice to try to become a parent, I gulped down a martini or two and got down to business. And much like the choice to try to become a parent, within minutes, I had a blog to baby to match the baby I blogged about.
Sassafrass wasn't my first foray into blogging. For nine months (coincidence? I think not), I blogged here. But somehow, it wasn't enough. I had more to say and I wanted my words to be completely my own. After many words of wisdom and gentle nudges from a lovely and talented colleague (a thousand thank yous, sweet friend), I made this little corner of the internet my own.
Through introductions made by another gifted writer friend (a thousand lattes, mama), I got a job blogging here, writing this fun and fabulous feature. And when my original blogging job ended, I somehow stumbled into this gig with bloggers I've been oohing, ahhhing and lusting over for a long old time and which has been more fun and opinionated and snarky and gloriously cuss-word-inundated than I ever imagined while I was grinding away as a nonprofit (oh the pain in my eye!) grantwriter. After that, the opportunity to join other Chicago moms in a collaborative blog came my way and then the emotional and spiritual challenge of writing profiles on inspirational survivors of illness and injury.
The best part of this anniversary is the reminder that a life coach and friend told me when I came to her sobbing one session. I had a freelance position with a corporate firm that consulted to nonprofits and it was grueling, devalidating and high-paying work. I was miserable and I felt lost in a career I could no longer bear.
"Jessica," my life coach friend told me, "release the fist-hold you have on this. Release your tight grasp. If your hand is open, you have no idea what amazing things might fall into the palm of your hand."
It was great advice, and not only because she was right, but because she told me at a time when I thought blogs were for dorks and worth no more than an eye roll. While I can (ahem) joke about joining the dork ranks now, I do believe in my heart that this is a powerful tool, especially for women, especially for writers, especially for mothers. I never dreamed I'd actually have a career writing about anything I want. But here I am.
It hasn't all been roses and sunshine. I'd love more financial security and an office that is not also our dining room. I'd love it if I didn't have to depend on my husband's benefits. I sometimes long for regular hours that do not include midnight and I often wish I could see my coworkers in person more than once a year. But just when one of these things feels weighty or tiresome, then I read something hilarious by a fellow blogger, I get a comment that reminds me why I publish my random thoughts and tirades (fame, power, glory, sanity points and occasionally free shampoo samples), and I remember that I am in exactly the right place for the me that I am and the life that I have right now.
Who knows what the years ahead will hold for me and for this growing blog o' mine? We will see. In the meantime, I will just keep typing away, occasionally pausing to open my hand, palm up. Waiting. Ready. Hopeful.
So Happy Blogiversary, Sassafrass. Here's to you, baby grrrl.
Celebrate along with me! Here are a few of the places I'm blowing out candles and wearing a tiara this week:
* Jillian (JILLIAN!) Michaels commented on my post about her here and on my interview with her here. If I had her phone number, I would be seriously dangerous, my friends.
* My bit on The Nanny Diaries was posted here and picked up here. And somehow, I am still on this list with some other wowzer bloggers.
* My bit on closet country lovin' posted here was picked up by The Tennessean. Give it some cuddles, y'all.
Truly, I am humbled and thrilled each time I see these seeds blow out over the screen. Now, who can get us a table at The Melting Pot? I'm kidding. It's Applebee's or bust, sister friends.
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