I worry that I think too much about “social media” and what I want to share and where, but I don’t think that’s really the issue.
I’m actually always thinking about the things I want to create and how best to share them as an extension of myself.
My life is my family, cleaning, preparing meals, making appointments, laundry, cats, mowing the lawn, buying the groceries, caregiving, chauffeuring, and in my real life I’m only seen as “mom.” Defined by my relationship to others.
But when I write a poem, a short story, when I have an idea that I make note of, when I write my newsletter, make a collage, take a picture of a flower – it feeds that little place in my chest, that tiny seed, that is a whole person outside of everyone else’s needs.
Yes. I spend too much time thinking about my Instagram grid, my newsletter, and now what to post on Threads, but it isn’t really about “social media” at all.
It’s about trying to water that tiny seed that is still me. It’s about trying to nurture it into something bigger. It’s about being seen for who I am outside of what I do for others. It’s about creating worth separate from productivity and sacrifice.
It’s about wanting to remember that I was once a person and proving to the world I still am.