Such a convoluted statement.
Said in so many different varietals and tones.

It can be said dismissively. It can be said sarcastically, enthusiastically, or adoringly. It can be said genuinely.

Holding an online space, and engaging online relationships is a pretty incredible thing. The communities that can be built, the friendships that can be formed…even marriages that can be inspired (love you huzz). All through the internet.

Mommy’s Inside Voice was a flippant thought. It was a passing remark at first. A passing remark that was snagged out of conversation. Nurtured, and encouraged, by good friends and supportive muses. It became a brain sprout, being tossed around in my late night trances.
Fear kept it at bay for months.
Yet friends regularly asked about it. They nudged it, reassuring.

The more people brought it up, the more I thought…why the hell not?
So there I was. Overwhelmed with motherhood, stewing in my own thoughts, unable to cope. With a bottle of wine in between my knees and my laptop on the couch beside me, my soul spilled through my fingertips onto the keyboard.

I didn’t even edit that first post. I didn’t read it over, even once, before I clicked that publish button. It was a soul cleansing and regardless of grammatical error or poor sentence structure…I needed it out.

There it was.
Fucking terrifying.
I felt as though I had reached into my chest, grabbed my beating heart, and plunked it into the publicized ethers for the world to do with as it pleased.
Of course, I knew that was being a little overdramatic.
I imagined that only a few people would be reading it. My most loyal friends, probably my mom and my auntie, if she was feeling bored.

What I didn’t imagine was what happened.
It was read.
By lots of people.
People that I hadn’t realized to be as supportive and incredible as they are.
Time is valuable, this I know. I also know that my “rambling blogs” aren’t short. The investment of time itself was flattering. For my friends to tell me that they read it was heartwarming, to say the least. The kind words and encouragement they spouted made me squirm with discomfort and appreciation.

Then they shared it. Enthusiastically.

The commentary on my innermost dialogue was…astonishing. People from different parts of the world were chiming in their reflections on my words. They were patting me on the back for my leap of faith, they were reassuring my self doubts, and they were nurturing my endeavour.

So I wrote again.
And again it was read, and shared. It was celebrated, by friends, by family…and by strangers the world over.

Mommy’s Inside Voice has quickly grown into something that I wasn’t expecting. I am overwhelmed by it. I am still uncomfortable with the recognition that I’m receiving on the writing and soul spilling.

And I am so, so fucking thankful.
Guys. I am an incredibly emotional person. Being “mushy gushy” is my way. Always has been, always will be. It’s something that I have been ostracized for. Berated for. It has broken me, a million times over.
But now, here I am, laying my bruised but functioning heart out for all of you.
You are treating it like gold.

I say thank you all the time…yet I worry that you’re not understanding just how genuinely I mean that thank you.
Every. Single. Time.

I don’t mean it in the flippant way. I don’t mean it in the passive, dismissive, tired way.

Your comments sometimes bring me to tears. Your kindness and your faith inspire me to write again, enduring the apprehension and fear. It’s always greeted with kindness.

Thank-you doesn’t feel strong enough. So I chuck a bunk of heart eyed emojis behind it, a bunch of exclamation points, hoping you realize how sincere I mean those two, underwhelming little words.
I started out writing for me…and I still do. But now I also write with you in mind.
I write because it brings us, as a community, closer. We relate. We open up. We get the shit off of our chest that we need to get off. We need to put it somewhere, and we need to know that having a bad day and occasionally wanting to sell our children is fucking normal.
I write because everyone deserves a friend that cares and listens.
I write because, no matter how “connected” we may seem in this day and age, somehow we have never been more disconnected. Withdrawing, and painting a perfect life with filters and emojis.
Fuck that noise.
There’s a way to use this expanse of internet to reconnect. To air out that dirty laundry so that we can look to our left, and look to our right…and realize that everyone’s got the same filthy, hole filled socks on the line.
REAL LIFE. We can cross borders. We can expanse religion, language barriers. We can expand friendships based in common experiences and mindsets. Expand them across the friggin world, apparently.

You guys inspire the hell out of me.

So please. From now on, when I say “thank you”…just know that I really, really, REALLY fucking mean it. Ok?



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