Warning : I am about to delve into my insecurities. This is not a plea for a response. It will sound that way and I know it. I'm choosing to write anyway.
While I write my blog mostly for myself I still find myself hungry for interaction. I find myself longing to know someone out there is reading and caring what I'm thinking. I check my blog for comments regularly. I link my blog to my facebook notes so I can receive comments there as well. Today one of my entries received two "likes" and it made me smile.
I haven't spent much of my life being insecure. When I first moved to California I went through a time of being so shy I wanted to fade into nonexistence. So much so that I used to "cut" recess and hide under my desk to read. Eventually it got better and I made more friends. Suddenly in Jr. High I burst from my shell and never looked back. Throughout high school and college I was very self assured. I, of course, dealt with the usual insecurities in relationships (sometimes more than the usual), but overall I knew who I was and what I wanted. I've felt much less that way since becoming a mom. I know there are a million reasons for this (it's the most wonderful yet hardest job I've ever had, I've put on a few pounds, I'm finding the balance between the various roles in my life, etc). Writing makes me feel more secure. It has been part of me for years. Whether it was diaries, poetry, essays, or ramblings it has been a way for me to sort through my feelings. It has also been a way for me to share those feelings and better understand the feelings of others. I guess it makes me feel more myself.
Blogging is much like the other mediums in many ways except that you are rarely present when it is being read. It leaves you little chance to experience the readers' response. This has been hard for me. It has been difficult not to see or hear a response. I find myself longing for any kind of interaction with what I've written, any feedback - good or bad (but mostly good if I'm honest). At times it has made me question my writing or, more accurately, my writing of a blog. I'm still deciding how I feel about taking so much of myself and placing it out into the world so publicly. I think I am more for sharing in intimate settings like poetry readings and time with friends. Then again, I suppose if all writers were this way we'd have no books.