Blogging, right now, is completely the love of my life. I love spilling out my ideas into words, even if noone reads them. My little blog, is just that. Mine.
Over the past year I have grown a little in confidence. Blogging has completely attributed to that. After finally being able to home in on the content that I want to create, I finally was able to start accepting my flaws and laugh the embarrassment of yet another fuck up away.
Truth be told I probably have an unhealthy attachment to the blogosphere. From dispising trolls and championing bloggers when they succeed. Blogging brought me out of my shell and allowed me to figure out ,somewhat ,who I wanted to be.
I will be forever grateful for that.
Having a voice.
For years I never felt my opinion mattered; I didn’t think I did. Being able to express that on my blog, to find others felt the same shocked me to my core.
The more I wrote, the more I found my opinion mattered. For months I didn’t understand that people were actively responding to the words I was using. I found a voice, that people didn’t seem to hate. And in time I started to listen to my own views more and more.
Bad dates, lack of confidence, my hatred of the way I look- I have pretty much shared my insecurities with every reader. The more I wrote the more I accepted the things that had happened to me, the shit I’ve done and laugh at the down right questionable experiences.
I found that I may just be somewhat relatable to others. And sharing my weird experiences, views and innuendos, might just make others feel less of a fuck up.
Relatable vs Luxury ?
With so many bloggers in the bloggersphere, everyone has blogs which relate to them. For me, personally, blogging is relatable. Even inspiring luxury blogs still home some sort of relatable aspects for most. Take Lydia Elise Millen, for example. Sure, she buys handbags I can only dream off, travels to places I may never see in my life time, but she is relatable. Her openness about mental health, feeling inadequate in not only her life but in the blogosphere and of course, her love of Zoflora.
No matter the genre, blogging is relatable to almost every person alive.
There’s so many bloggers.
According to Aquora.com, that in 2013 there was 152 million bloggers in the world. A figure which has grown rapidly since.
I have to admit even I was shocked at that figure- although not surprised. Of course there are a heck of a lot of bloggers out there, but that isn’t a bad thing. There is so much choice out there for readers. Genuine content, amazingly beautiful images and likeable bloggers thrive in the blogosphere.
The amount of bloggers for me personally, shown the amount of people that needed some where to find their voice. To share their loves, excitement and hopes for the future. As cheesey at the cheese counter at Sainsbury’s, blogging has allowed so many creators to find a voice, confidence and friends- it makes my heart burst with pride.
And me?
I love being relatable. Blogging for me has been something that I can be 100% honest with. The embarrassment of walking into doors, honesty about my life and even really dodgy fake tans- I hope my take makes others feel better about their misgivings.
Blogging is relatable to the reader- it’s that simple. A blog post may not be relevant to you at that time, but in six months, a year or even 5, it just may be.
Right now, I talk a lot about my point of view in life. And honestly that isn’t going to change. For me, product reviews can be saved for bloggers such as Debra Bow, travel for I’m just a girl and luxury Lydia Millen.
Being laugh out loud, relatable is me. And my blog should represent that. In such a (hate the word vomit I’m going to spill) saturated industry, you are you’re own selling point and if others don’t like it, then there’s plenty of other people that will.
Blogging is amazing. It’s that simple. I don’t intend in dropping it from my life or changing the content I create.
I am so happy I found blogging. It allows me to share my dorky stories, embrace the chaos and champion the new chapters in my life. Thank you for the people who continue to support me
Always love,
Em x
When I think about the last few years, I don’t think of anything other than feeling anxious. This feeling doesn’t just cover losing my grandparents, or suffering with panic attacks, it was something dealt with daily. If I’m entirely honest I don’t know what life’s like without this feeling.Feeling anxious has been with me on every life change, I have ever attempted and been there if I ever gave up, too. It’s only been recently that I’ve realised that this feeling in my chest can be used to spur me on rather than hold me back.
Ma new plan.
From now on.
After falling completely head over heels for the love island hype, I’ve recently been wondering about slut shaming. Personally I can’t quite believe that in this day and age the term slut is still used at all. Women are empowered, beautiful and successful, but when it comes to sex are we still meant to blush at the word orgasm?Millennial women are constantly told not to settle, to strive for the world and never apologise for it. Yet when it comes to sex are we meant to sit and wait man or woman of our dreams to come barrelling through the bed room door?
I’m not shaming men
I’ve not felt myself in a very long time. In fact, if I’m being honest I couldn’t tell you the last time I laughed until my stomached or the last time I championed myself to do something I was scared to. Because I was just that, scared.
