“I am such a hypocrite,” I typed on what had previously been my grandfather’s laptop of four years. It was rundown, and the key for the letter “J” was stuck, but it worked- sort of. It was a good thing I had only typed one sentence because just then my computer decided to crash. Oh joy. It took a couple minutes before I could restart it and navigate back to my blog. Blog. I hate that word. It sounds like a mask for some pretentious hipster who gets their doctorate in psychology and then moves to Africa to clean the water or something. But like, they don’t really care about the people, it’s just a thing they can say they did. Like, ‘Hey guys, did you see my pictures on Facebook of Africa? I was there. I did good things.’ For a while I contemplated changing the first sentence of my first blog post to, “I am so cynical,” but in the end I went with the former.

“I am such a hypocrite. Why? There are plenty of reasons why, but right now it’s because I said I would never in a million years write a blog- ever. And here I am. My main worry for starting a blog (other than getting confused for a 30 something stay-at-home-mom whose writing isn’t good enough to be published) was that someone I knew would find it. But, seeing as that fear is unfounded I have consented to participate in this most public of diaries available to mankind.”
Oh gosh, that last sentence sounded really dumb. By chance I glanced up at the sticky note I had scribbled a Pinterest quote on. It read, “Bad writing precedes good writing. This is an infallible rule, so don’t waste time trying to avoid bad writing- that just slows down the process.” Was it fate, me seeing that note just as I was telling myself to quit? Probably not. That quote pretty much applied to all of my writing, which I did a lot of; but it did encourage me to forge ahead.
“Why is this fear unfounded?” I had to chant, “Bad writing precedes good writing,” to myself a few times before I could continue. “Because I don’t have anyone left in my life that cares about me.”
That sounded beyond pathetic… way more than I had intended. Putting it down in writing somehow made it more real than it had ever been just floating around inside my head; but it was the truth. I didn’t have anyone left. I went through the list of people I had lost in my head, like I always did when I had nothing to think about.
There was my fraternal twin, who didn’t last a day out of my mother’s womb. Then my mother, giving birth to me: the second twin, the one who wasn’t planned. Next my dad, who couldn’t bear to look at me (or so I imagine) and so passed me off to my grandparents. They didn’t have many years left, but luckily they held out until after I was 18. There was Tiffany, my college roommate, who overdosed on some drug during our sophomore year- probably more than one. We never really hung out outside of our dorm but she seemed nice, and she never complained about my constant music playing (or my refusal to wear headphones.) But looking back, they’re all just names… another entry in a list of disappointments.
“Let me just leave it at this: I’ve lost a lot of people. And maybe that wouldn’t bother me so much if I didn’t have something in my life to work toward, something that I’m passionate about. But I don’t.”

This would probably be a good time to mention my commitment issues: the other reason I refused to write a blog for so long. In high school homework had never been a priority of mine. Projects would go untouched for weeks after they were due and I didn’t feel guilty about it like other kids. I just didn’t care. Who was I kidding? There were way more reasons why I shouldn’t start a blog than why I should. My confidence was lost. I would never be good enough for myself. I clicked the “Save as Draft” button at the bottom of the page, and opened up YouTube to watch bad movie trailers and stupid college pranks. “Later,” I told myself, which translated to “Never.”