I thought of writing this in a caption on Instagram, but it got too long. This isnʼt a plan blog post just something I had to get off my chest. Disclaimer: if this isnʼt how you feel great fantastic but itʼs how Iʼm feeling.
It has been like a year struggle and I keep coming back to the same question why do I keep blogging?
I think about what if I delete and take A City Girl off the line. And the same thing comes to mind is that I love to write. That is something I always loved despite the struggles I faced in school with my learning disability, some teachers telling me I won’t pass or go anywhere. I kept writing because I love it. And blogging was supposed to be for me, it was supposed to be my words, my story, and a place to write and be creative. An outlet when I’m stuck in the typical box of 9-5 jobs. However, I started to create this stress from the stupid square. I started to look and compare myself to other bloggers. The square was a place to connect, get inspiration and get people to read my words. Now it’s all about the “likes,” getting the followers, breaking that Instagram algorithm. Basically feel like I am bagging and demanding people to go like my photos. And then disappointment hits.
I blame myself because I do look who’s watching my story, who’s like my photos. It’s like a tick, but I also do it for safety. But it has crossed into something unhealthy that has lead to heartbreak. Because as I see who has seen it, looking at the confusing statistics, Instagram provides. I began down the not so happy road when a photo I love, words I worked hard on writing, a blog post I can’t wait to share get’s nothing, no one from Instagram, only 20 likes. You start to feel it. Once I got a comment that said “abs” after I posted something personal and meaningful. They decided to comment on my body. I wanted a city girl to be a place not only for me but for others, to be a voice, to bringing inspiration, understand and empowerment to the woman and young girls. But all I got was “abs.”
When I feel disappointed and frustrated, there is this little guilt when I say it. Because friends tell me, who I know well, who listen to my rant, and they tell me they saw my blog or they have it saved. People tell me they love my blog. I feel guilty and bad that I felt this way. Because there people other than my mother reading it. Yet, I can’t help how I feel.
I know I have worked hard and put a lot of effort into it which is why I get so disappointed and frustrated when after two hours only 7 likes. After so many years of working on this blog, create my platform I have come down to 7 likes. When did I become so obsessed with numbers determine my worth? And its because those numbers they get you somewhere like the more eperence you have the more likely you will get the job.
I joined Instagram in my 3rd year of college, a private account as I shared pictures and moments of my study abroad adventure while blogging on a city girl story that was more of a diary entry for my parents to read. Flash forward 5 years Instagram has become more than sharing pictures, it’s become an influence platform, with stories, filters, IGTV, hashtags, videos, and comments. My creativity has been blocked.
Even before all this other stuff I struggled with creating pictures to go along with my words, I especially do when I try to put my prose with my pictures-its like this too personal thing.
Blogging and blogging on Instagram especially have become something I am not. I am not the girl who is going to go and buy herself the straw looking bag because its trending and trending will get people and the likes. I am not the person who wants to go out and take thousands of pictures until I get the right one for the gram. I am not the girl who drinks coffee or wants to write a caption about my day. I am filled with stories that I want to put forth in words or pictures. But I can’t I am blocked by the “got to get that Instagram shot,” seeing the same thing over and over again-once there was like a Tommy Hillfigure spon of this one shirt. And everyone including my fav blogging was wearing it.
Our lives are online and we lose something when we began to force the perfection and trying to get those likes.
It’s not that I want to stop blogging, it’s just I am trying to find inspiration in a place that is frustrating and making me feel isolated, depress, and the little hurt. There are other things that come to my mind like a light bulb going off, that I don’t even do because I am easily distracted by this. And you know what it’s my choice to either sit and keep getting stress because it’s been this rollercoaster nothing has changed no matter how much I try even say “I will do a give away when I reach 1,000 so tell your friends.” And I lose 3. That I am going to do the things on my to-do list. I want to spend my spare time and weekends enjoying my time, doing creative things that I enjoy and fill me up than being stress. And blogging isn’t my job so I can.
There are other reasons why I don’t want to pick up a camera like lack on inspiration, how I’ve been feeling, and how hard it is to get the shot you want when with a self-timer.
What stops me from delete A city girl story and walking away is that I love creating, I don’t want to hide my writing or the things I created from the world I want to share it and I’ve connected with some really cool people. And that connection, people, having a place to share/express my creativity is bigger than # of likes. I just have to keep reminding myself. I had to get that off my chest so if you’re looking for a city girl you won’t find her in the square, you might find her online with another blog post, you find her taking pictures, you might find her working on typography and writing that novel and visual book.
I don’t even want to say follow me on Instagram…