For a while now I've been questioning blogging. Why I still do it. My enjoyment of it. My dedication, if you will.
I've been blogging for a while. Seriously...since like 2005. I started because I lived so far from home and I wanted to put up pictures and write up stuff I was doing so my friends and family could see it and know what's what without my having to be on the phone telling the same stories over and over and over again. I would post something once every few days and kept it moving. My family and friends were entertained and they commented.
Then they started sharing stuff I'd put down.
And those people shared it.
And so on and so forth and I remember Robby telling me what my stats were one day and I didn't believe him and made him show me.
And I was blown away.
And I would get so much email about how much they enjoyed the blog and how it was cool that they found someone out there who was just like them and so on and so forth.
So I kept going. Throughout everything. Infertility, surgeries, scars, life challenges and changes, dream-making.
I mean yeah...sure...there were lots of things I didn't share like practically anything regarding my family because everyone isn't as comfortable sharing their life with strangers as I am or like the time I had a chemical pregnancy and it almost killed me.
IT.ALMOST.KILLED.ME.
Because I wanted it so much. I was so happy when I got that positive and I was pregnant for a few days and when it just went away...well...I almost died.
Or about racist family shit. The kinda shit that could cut a person deep and kill the most vibrant spirit if it's allowed.
I'm pretty real over here you know? I don't feel the need to put on airs or pretend I'm this perfect chick people should look up to cuz seriously...I ain'tcha damn hero. Just like you're struggling with life and the choices life forces you to make...so am I but I just feel like there are so many people out there who are ashamed of where they come from or of the mistakes they've made that they don't feel like they deserve to step outside their front door, take a deep breath and YELL TO THE WORLD THAT THEY ARE HERE AND THEY AREN'T GOING ANYWHERE THAT IS NOT ON THEIR TERMS!
Shit...I ain't perfect. I'm 42 about to be 43 and still trying to figure it all out.
I've gone through wardrobe changes/challenges, beauty changes/challenges, and a COMPLETE career change faced with challenges, all right here on this blog. All able to be searched out and read at your leisure. I've made friends and lost "friends" here. I've realized you could have enemies in people you've never even been in the same zipcode with. I've recognized that blogging can be so personal to not just me...but to so many other people as well. About me. And my life.
And I get tired.
I GOT tired.
I mean...I have a lot going on you know? I'm in the middle of selling a movie and in pre-production for another movie and I want to share but only because I believe there are so many people out there who don't get to see the nitty gritty of following through with a dream by someone who looks like me. Who've had the challenges in life I've had. Who started off life kinda fucked up but not all ghetto, hood, drug dealing fucked up you know? Just regular people fucked up. And then...figured it out. Taught myself lessons. Followed people who lead by example. Worked HARD. Created a support system from those I connected with who love and support me because I do the same.
You know...the shit a real family is supposed to do.
In the folds of the bosom of love.
Yeah...that shit kinda got cut short for me. But I figured it out and I also figured out that there were a lot of people who didn't figure out that it didn't make them who they are and that, just as I did, they can get their phoenix on and rise from the ashes.
So...I said all that to say that I've been questioning continuing to blog because I wondered if I still had anything left in me to give. I split up my Facebook so I could transfer all the randoms to a "fanpage" and keep a private, personal wall to really express myself. You know...a fanpage as a watered down version of me. The ANTI-THESIS of me. Something I wouldn't mind the world seeing. While I kept the rest to fewer than few. The only people I spoke of this to were The Robinator, Shelly Bean and Lesley.
And I made up my mind on Thursday that yeah...I'm pretty much done with blogging. I'm tired. It's a lot of work and folks tend to not appreciate it. The numbers are still in the thousands and yet...folks don't comment, they don't respond and therefore engage. So yeah...why the fuck am I killing myself trying to put shit out there when folks obviously don't respect the process or the progress.
And I was resigned to scaling it back.
Way back.
And then...tonight I was at the movies when I looked down at my phone and saw the following message posted to my wall from the loveliest woman:
Hi Monica. I recalled an older blog post by you today called "Cherished" when I arose this morning having to face the second worse day of my life: attending the funeral of my sweet husband Ted, who died suddenly on Monday. Thank you for the role you've played in our lives. He thought you were way special for the support you offered me time and time again. To be cherished is truly a gift from God. Blessings.
My heart broke for her and I instantly teared up not knowing what to say. Not knowing if there was anything I COULD say and then I returned home and contacted her. Let her know if there was anything I could do...please...please...
And then I had a glass of wine and checked my FB messages and I found the following message from yet another lovely woman:
Hi Monica,
I am responding to your birthday celebration post and wish to receive an invitation. I just wanted to say that though I've never had the pleasure of meeting you in person, you absolutely ROCK! You are responsible for not only helping me to deal with my mother's battle with cancer, but also with my struggles of infertility. I was able to laugh through some of the toughest parts of my IVF treatment with my husband because of you. I'd like to thank you for keeping it real, humorous and honest, because I swear, if you had not posted that series of "Big Azz Needles" videos, I don't think I would have made it. You're a doll with a golden heart and I hope that you keep doing what you do!
Whoa...is God sending me pebbles or what?
Truth be told...I get messages like that all the time and it makes me proud knowing that I'm being used as a vessel in so many lives and then...I get scared, recognizing the tremendous responsibility that entails cuz yeah...again...I ain't no damn hero. I can be a bitch. A BIG one when something or someone attempts to get in the way of the end result I envision. I can be all cold and mean as hell when I'm not pleased and I'm quick to express my displeasure in something not right. In the world we live in...women should be pretty and fun. Not pretty and smart enough to call you on your shit when you attempt to dish it out and yeah...I don't care.
About a lot of stoopit ish.
But I do care.
About a so much it can be debilitating.
I see a family's belongings on side of the road being evicted and, instead of passing by tut-tutting...I pull over to see if I can help in any way. I help when I can. All the time. Sometimes I tell yall about it. Most times I don't. I do that because of my mommy. Plain and simple. It's all about her and her legacy and what it means to me.
So yeah...
Yeah...
Hell...I don't know why I'm writing this.
I got a text message from ShellyBean after she read the post on my wall.
Shelly: That post from _____. You can't quit blogging.
Me: Stunned.
Shelly: Yeah, that was super deep.
Me: I know that poor woman's heartbreak wasn't about me but I am stunned at how quickly the Universe answers me.
Shelly: Isn't it funny how that sometimes happens?
Me: Not funny...down right creepy.
Shelly: "The Universe conspires." ~ The Alchemist.
Yeah...
Look...I'm dealing with my doggies getting older and I'm being reigned in tightly in dream-making by something totally out of my control. Something I know nothing about and rely on others to deal with. The control fool in me is not dealing with it well and I feel idle. Too idle. It's not a good thing. Me and Boobie are DYING! I mean...it's been over a year since we've been on our own set which is KILLING.US! My health issues have pissed me off and I want to grab Robby's clippers and cut all my hair off and be bald for the rest of my life so I don't have to deal with hair. No...I don't want to go natural. No...I don't want to rock a tiny afro. I seriously want to just be hairLESS.
I wish with all of me that certain members of my family lived close enough where I could see them every.single.day and I think about my mortality more and more. I know I'll probably live to be 110 mind you...but sometimes I feel as if my body has been through so much that it's going to just give up one day and say fuck it.
My marriage has never been better. My husband is healthy and happy. My career as a filmmaker is moving in leaps and bounds even as we're in waiting mode. I'll be in New York the first part of the week getting to experience something amazing and yet...I've wondered if I should say anything about it because I've also learned that everyone won't be happy for you when you're succeeding and that makes me so sad because I believe I'm one of those people who goes out of her way to champion successes of others.
But yeah...so...yeah...nothing...
So I'll keep blogging.
Because God is sending me pebbles...
...BEFORE HE HITS ME WITH A BRICK.
