Goddess, I Am.

After much soul-searching (and a little help from Maris and Kessa – thank you, you two!), I finally took the plunge and started a secret blog. I couldn’t be happier. I’m even breathing easier, in fact. Really, it’s almost like we suddenly got a dehumidifier installed at home – it’s that, umm, liberating.

For the past few months, I’ve been slowly filling up the notebooks that The Husband, family, and friends are forever getting me with stories and thoughts and memories, so I’m starting to fill up my new Tumblr baby with some really fantastic writing. (I’m ridiculously proud of this new project, so no, I’m not in the mood for modesty. Deal with it.) I suppose the only thing that’s slowing me down is my capacity to take photos. Maybe the decision to use photos that I take and no one else’s is a bit overkill? But hey, who’s rushing?

So yes, I now have a secret blog. And in case you missed the little clue that I let slip earlier, it’s on Tumblr. If you take the time to poke around this blog a bit, you might find a link to it here somewhere. Though I might not volunteer the new blog’s address to all and sundry, it would still tickle me pink if any one of you found me. (Hello, writer’s ego!)

My secret blog has only been online for a day or so, and I already have a few readers. That’s probably why I love Tumblr so much. No one ever goes unread!

The thing that really gets to me about being married is the lack of sufficient dramatics that make for good writing material. Oh, I’m not saying that we’re right as rain all the time. We do have our fair share of high drama every now and again, after all. However, I somehow find myself unable to write about these sorts of things now when I had absolutely no qualms about doing so years ago. Perhaps it has something to do with being married. Whether it’s a stronger sense of privacy, or simply a need to constantly preserve the image of happily wedded bliss, I’m not really sure what. All I know is it is not doing me any good as a writer.

I’ve been reading through my older blogs, and good heavens, was I dramatic! That, and I wrote very well indeed, if I may say so myself. Reading through this blog, on the other hand, forced me to see how painfully trivial my writing has become. Don’t get me wrong. Life is good and I’m happy a lot more often than not, but sometimes, having no better things to write about than how I want this or that gadget or outfit is really starting to bug me. Why, I was just halfway through a piece extolling the virtues of our mattress before I realized what a frightful bore I had become! (Although it truly is an awesome mattress!)

My point is I want to write about things that are profound and meaningful again. I want to write about love and pain and passion again, but I’m just not sure if I can get away with it as a married woman. I’ve got so many stories to tell – both real and imagined – just BURSTING to be told, only I don’t know if I should out of respect for the man I married.

I have half a mind to start a secret blog right now, except that my writer’s ego is weeping at the thought that no one could read what may possibly be my best writing ever save for myself. On the other hand, I don’t want to upset the tenor of fun triviality that I’ve already established on this blog, either.

What a pickle I find myself in, huh? Tell me, what would you do?