So here's a funny thing that happened.

Writing is in my soul, or bones, or blood, or some other essential piece of my physical or perhaps non-physical makeup.

I am not masterfully educated, I am not published or professional, but writing is just how I figure out what I'm feeling and why I'm feeling it. So I've been blogging in various ways for 16 years. The highest level of success I found was mostly from well-placed links that attracted spam bots. I'd outgrown my blog's name and theme, and felt desperate for a change, so I went for it - I came up with a new URL, a new banner, a new voice. And my old traffic went the way of the dodo bird.

I fought (and fought and fought) to get it back but I couldn't get my traffic up to the point where sponsors would work with me. And, you know...I guess I needed some measure of success for the amount of time I was putting into all of it. I needed something to help me find footing - to nurture a community. My paltry numbers fooled no one.

I decided to admit defeat and drop my attachment to the blog I'd worked the most diligently on for years. I'd still write there sometimes, and I always felt good....flowy and pretty and bright when I'd chat about personal development and life enrichment. I was so sold that I had this IDEA. This notion that I would create a new avenue for people to DIY their happiness. I dunno, maybe great in theory, but I had a lot of credibility and stamina issues.

Sometimes I'd say to hell with my niche and write about clothes. I'd share how I went buck wild in the clearance racks at Target, and obsessed over each new release of Matilda Jane's collections. I don't know, clothes light me up a little.

So anyway, being an MJC and Target devotee, I hated on the Lularoe craze something fierce. Their ethics bothered me, their patterns baffled me, and I had a lot of questions about their actual process and operations. I could see the hype that everyone was falling into, and I fought it with everything I had. One of my attacks was to write about it. I published two posts that mocked some of the mystifying patterns that women were falling over each other to obtain and I tried to score a laugh or two in the process.

Almost a whole year went by, and someone published a BuzzFeed article about the ridiculousness of the Lularoe madness, and they linked to my post. People started streaming in through that link, and then they'd visit my second post from that link, and then they'd find themselves wandering to my posts about Matilda Jane and Target.

And wouldn't you know it......just when I felt like I couldn't be the happy life blogger any more...or the suffering writer just trying to gain an ounce of traction...my traffic hit respectable levels. Sponsors would look at me now if I approached them. Only now I look at that blog, and even though it's pretty and full of years' worth of discovery and creativity, I am just....a little tired of it.

I'm here because I want to do things differently. I want to.....well I want to BE.

I want to live on purpose. I want to do EVERYTHING on purpose. I'm so sick of all the "I have to"'s and the "I'm too tired to"'s and the "I can't handle anymore"'s. O-ver it.

So I dunno. Here I am.

Looking for another place to play. Hoping I can get my shit together once and for all.