Hitting 100...

I started writing on Medium awhile ago. You could sign up to get paid for your writing. I think that I made like a total of $10 like over a year. But it felt so good to actually earn money for writing. Like some sort of affirmation that my writing was worth something...literally.

Well that ended because I didn’t have enough followers. And I thought, for a minute that I would deploy some methods of gaining followers by SEO or whatever the fuck everyone else does to gain followers. But as much as I wanted to continue to get paid to write, even the meager amount I was, I just didn’t want to do that inauthentically. I wanted, and want, people to read my writing because they want to, and I want them to find me organically.

I know this is old fashioned. And likely not even a thing anymore. But the older and more alive I become, the less and less I want the things the technology brings. I want to control the tech, not the other way around.

I do not online date because it is hollow, vapid and meaningless. If you do it, great for you! It just makes me feel awful about all of humanity, and I become a worse version of myself. And I do not want that. So I am not going to do it.

I want to fall in love with someone who I meet in the wild. I do not want to scan through all of humanity and swipe on someone and have that be the story. I have done that twice now with disastrous results: my ex-husband and Lane. So that is enough trauma and drama for me. I leave the swiping to others who are better situated to handle it.

I have a social media presence, which I am currently examining my reasons for and whether or not I should continue to post some things, my writing or anything at all. I do not know how I feel about it anymore. Why do I need you to see that I went to Alaska? Why do I need to plaster my photos all over the internet to get you to comment and like? I am still sorting through this one...more details to follow.

I do not comb the internet looking for ways to get more followers to read my shit. I want to. But I don’t. Because that doesn’t feel spiritual to me. Shameless self promotion, smacks of ego, and I really have enough of that already. I need to engage in deflation not inflation of that particular aspect of my personality.

So it took me awhile to build 100 followers. Like awhile awhile. And yesterday was the day that I hit 100. I immediately applied again to the partners program where you can get paid for your writing. I am awaiting results to see if I am accepted back in. I am not sure why earning .40 is important to me, but it is.

I am proud of my 100 followers. Because they are people who found me on their own. And when they liked me and followed me, I liked them and followed them back. That is all I did. I didn’t spend hours combing Medium and liking and following everyone. No I didn’t do that because that isn’t real. Pretending to like something or someone so that they will like you back is fake and phony and bullshit, in my opinion. Again, if this is your deal, cool. It just isn’t mine.

I started writing and putting all this shit out there because I wanted to be real, and accountable. And that is what my daily drivel has become to me. An inventory of my soul and how it is living today. What am I doing? What am I thinking? How am I showing up? Somedays, I kill it. Other days I am hanging on by a thread...a very tenuous fucking thread.

I write and speak from no moral authority. I yell at my kids, curse at the dogs, lose my shit over beings making messes of my house. I hate on things and people. I am not always kind and loving. I am sometimes a real asshole. And I don’t even like me some days.

But I am also loving and forgiving and kind. I love my kids and pets with such ferocity that it sometimes feels like it may kill me. And it just might if my kids just keep fucking up their lives. I am trying, desperately at times, to own the incongruence of my existence: I am something that is not all that lovable and also something worth living for...it is a great paradox. Me, I am the paradox. I feel so put together while I am unraveling. And through writing this all down, I have come to accept that this is who I am. This fucked up combination of smarts and sass, love and anger, fear and faith. I am here, doing the deal, living this life, fucking it up and fixing it day after motherfucking day.

Just like everyone else.

And that is what I write about and what I put out there. I believe that there are still people in the world who are interested in talking about books, philosophy, religion, faith, love, sex, partnering, mothering and parenting. Real people talking about the things that make life hard and worthwhile at the same time. I want to talk about broken hearts and trauma. I want to hear about your experiences, and share mine with you. Because to have survived all that I have, and to have made it to right fucking here, seems like quite an accomplishment really.

I have survived a lot in this life. I won’t list them here because if you review just a few of my posts, then you already know. If you are daily reader, then you fucking know a lot. I think we all survive a lot in this world and every day that we make it through another, a check in the winning at life column.

Life is hard. Loving is hard. Dealing with all the shit that life throws at you while opting to live it and feel it and survive it and move on with it while not destroying yourself and others is a lofty fucking goal. My friend Karl has 27 years today! He called me last December with a bottle in hand, seal cracked and almost drank because his life was such a mess. We talked, other friends of ours showed up for him and he didn’t drink. He continued the fight instead of giving up and in. Today his life looks very different from the way it did December 17th of 2021. All the shit went down, but he chose to live instead of die. And so I want to congratulate him today for that. I am so grateful he is in my life. That he didn’t drink that night and that he chose me to call when he was at the end of his rope. This is what life is about for me: showing up for others.

Being open and willing and caring enough to show up for the people in our lives that mean something to us. That we love and they love us back. My friendship with Karl means way more to me than my 100 followers but the method I got both is the same. I cared. I showed up. I gave. I took. I told the truth. That is how it happened.

So too with the 100 of you that follow me. Thank you. Thank you for giving me attention and worth in this world where everything feels so disposable to me so much of the time. Thank you for helping me re-enter (hopefully, we will see) the partner program on Medium and get paid to write this shit everyday. I am grateful to each and every one of you 100 brave souls that have taken time out of your busy, chaotic lives to follow me, like me and read me. Really. I am so incredibly grateful. And not just because you gave me what I needed to re-apply to the partner program. I may not get in and that is ok. I am more grateful on this day to have 100 people willing to listen to me, read what I write and perhaps, connect with me over oceans, deserts, mountains and miles. This seems a good use of humanity. This is us living our lives.

Following people who follow you is likely not the best or most effective way to gain followers. But it seems to me to be the way with the most heart, the most authentic heart and soul in an environment that lacks both so much and often.

I see you 100 and I thank you. Thank you for giving me any time at all. Thank you for the follows, the likes and the comments. I appreciate them all.

And to those of you at Medium, I hope that you will accept me back. You may not like what I have to say but I say it, every day, I am here writing out my heart, mind and soul in an effort to connect, to participate in humanity. To show up for this complicated, painful, amazing life that I have and share that with others on the path. I hope you find it worthy of payment, but if you don’t, I will just keep writing and following back all those that follow me. Reciprocity is a thing. And I am grateful to have a forum to participate in that. Thank you.

I am grateful for this fucked up life and all the messy, complicated feelings that go along with it. I am also incredibly grateful for God giving me a knack for writing it all down and finding the courage to pour myself out there one more day. I am going to keep going...