Return of the Girl
So, I took an unscheduled sabbatical. Yup. And it was one of the best things I have ever done. After years of blogging and growing up with social media I was told by my spouse, “Not everything is Facebook worthy.” His simple statement led me to a social media blackout that included deleting (but archiving) my blog, my Twitter account (@crzegrl15) and my Facebook account. I couldn’t believe how much social media was weaved into the way I approached everything in my life. There was a quite voice that was ever present:
Emily, you should blog about that . . . Emily, this photo would be great on Twitter . . . Emily check Facebook AGAIN.
I recognized I had a problem. The motivation I had for doing something was simply because I could post about it. I wasn’t living life and then realizing I might post something interesting.
Eventually, the cobbled on mess of my social media presence became overwhelming. The large number of followers, the emails I just couldn’t get to and the cluttered, cobbled together file system looked like the digital version of something out of the TV show “Hoarders.”
So, I did what we all have wanted to do with the messes we are confronted with. I proceeded to commence the digital version of lighting a match. Then I really lit a match. And created a giant bonfire last summer to start over. I burned my past. Photos, journals, memorabilia—almost everything. Everything except the things that were Facebook worthy. The moments in my life of which I am most proud.
After removing the digital, mental and physical clutter, I began to swim again. And bike. I got rid of financial clutter. Had a few surgeries I was putting off while in search of the non-existent “perfect time.” I began yoga one on one with a mentor. I canceled all of my credit cards. I saw a counselor. I cleared the physical, emotional and financial baggage.
Then, I realized I was ready for my friends. I needed my friends. I was ready to be a better friend. One that they deserved. I opened my Facebook account and had instantaneous responses that have just kept coming. I opened my Twitter account and my old friends were there to welcome me back with open arms.
Ah, Twitter. How I have missed thee? Let me count the ways.