I’ve wondered a lot lately why I’m still blogging. If I were to stay true to the horse blog nature of SMTT, this is what I’d have to say about my weekend:
Simon got his first true beginner rider when my Mom hopped up for her first time riding a horse solo. He had many confused ears and only did one, “I don’t know what you want so I think the right answer is probably trot away” which I thought was pretty solid. Simon politely requests to stick to riders who know basic equitation. I told him that since I promise to keep him safe for the rest of his life, he can deal with the occasional beginner.
While this was happening, I attempted to ride Roman in a not-usual-for-him bit. When I asked for the canter, he was like “Yo lady this bit is not really my jam” and I said “Why thank you for safely expressing your discontent” and then we trotted. The end.
Riveting stuff folks. Super exciting.
When that compelling content is the highlight of my horse week, I struggle with what I should do with this blog these days. I feel like I can’t call it a “horse blog” anymore. It’s a online space for my own thoughts and a platform for me to tell stories, but what I do when I don’t have much of a story to tell?
As y’all know, I have dark days and lighter ones. Sometimes I write about the dark ones, and sometimes I don’t. I never want this to become a place for whining or feeling sorry for myself, although I feel that often I flirt with that line perhaps a bit too closely. I share moments of my grief when I feel compelled to, but sometimes my judgement is cloudy because grief. That makes everything cloudy.
If I ask myself why I still blog, the answer is wholly selfish. It’s all the feedback and comments from you readers telling me to keep writing that drives me forward. I am 100% a validation whore. Comments, praise and criticism are fuel for my blogging fire. Does that make me a lesser blogger? Probably! Do I care? Not really.
Still when it comes to content, more times than not lately I am coming up short. I feel like I’ve cultivated a captive, loyal audience that hangs out waiting for me to post. This is
perhaps absolutely a tad dramatic, but I’m grateful for all of my readers and I feel as if I’m letting this cloud of eyes down when I don’t post.
If I were to blog daily again, it’d be the literary equivalent of me shrugging my shoulders. I’m here. This week I’m juggling a writing group, Japanese class, getting ready for my Halloween party and making sure Roman gets quality rides between me, my trainer and a trusted amateur friend. Tim’s birthday is tomorrow, but I don’t know what to say about that that hasn’t already been said. I worry that grief is the only thing I know how to write about anymore.
After circling around the question, I can’t answer why I still blog. I don’t know what I’m going to do with the 980+ posts I’ve written here in the past 6 years or the 22,000+ comments people have left me.
I do know that I appreciate all of y’all. Maybe that’s enough for right now.