Ten years is a long time in blog years.
I have witnessed the community evolve:
-writing anonymously to
-writing semi-anonymously to
-“being out” (if I am allowed to borrow the phrase) as an individual to
-writing (or not writing) due to corporate clamp down to
-changing writing to only blogging professional topical content to
-blogging with corporate semi-acceptance to
-blogging being accepted and an expected resume replacement to
This doesn’t include the changes brought about by social media and the 140 character, SnapChat world.
Today, after a good amount of contemplation and thought, it occurred to me that through this evolution, blogging for me lost what I loved about it. It went from being a place for me to express who I am and what interests me at a very raw, semi-uncensored level, to believing I needed to make it into something more educational or professional.
As many of my intellectual projects go, it took quite a long time for my subconscious to put all of the pieces together. It was something that could not be forced. Looking back, it is now obvious that my blog love is based on exactly me being me. Some of the pieces included:
–Sean and Mike completely against me changing the name from crzegrl
–While on a flight to Indianapolis, I ran into a dedicated reader who I corresponded with for a time
–During a shift change for the OR, someone saw my full tattoo sleeve and said they were glad a professional had the guts to commit to the art
It is the little things that sometimes need to stew. Luckily my mind was in a place of peace, or enough so that this became much more simple.
My entire life, thus far, was spent battling the fact that I am a girl who loved to be told she couldn’t do something. Being a professional, is very much about me being me. My intensity, my intelligence, my flaws, my choice to be who I am in an open and honest way that most people cannot understand. If this scares someone away from me, then great. Come back when you are ready. If it inspires one person to be more adventurous, open with their heart, or love who they are with an attitude, then my openness is worth every minute.
I will not live a censored life.
My name is Emily Bennett. I am 38. I am a flight nurse, a Michigander, a skydiver, a knitter, a reader of many things, a geek, a masochist, a wife, a step-mom, a sister, a daughter, a friend, a lover, a foodie, a flawed human, a writer . . . and a woman.