|Image by Steve Hankins, via Flickr/Creative Commons|
I am not a poet.
I used to be. But verse and I parted ways long ago. We broke up in a bar, ironically, in the middle of a spoken word open mic night.
Sitting there in my chair at a tavern named Rudyard Kipling I decided to dump poetry.
This was not a bad breakup. We both knew it was for the best. My heart was elsewhere.
I wanted to be a columnist. I wanted to write opinion pieces and reported essays that would change people's minds and even their lives.
For awhile I had the chance to boast the title I coveted and I wrote a bi-weekly column for the newspaper I worked for in Louisville, Ky.
Then I quit my job.
I quit my job to teach literature. And though in this new job I spent my days and nights devouring words, the writer in me was still hungry. At one point I thought I had starved her to death.
One day I stopped feeling like a writer.
Through all this I had a friend to turn to -- blogging. We became pals in 2008. Our friendship was easy and fun. And as we got closer, blogging began to help me find my feminist self.
Our relationship grew more serious; my passion for blogging grew more intense. We became more than friends. Blogging became much more than a hobby.
Like a new lover who gives you the courage to open your heart again, blogging gave me the courage to once again call myself a writer and reminded me what being a writer really means.
I was back to carrying around a notebook of ideas as I did when I called myself a poet. I was back to writing for writing's sake, and not simply for an audience or for money. I was back to writing simply because I couldn't help myself.
And together blogging and I birthed something beautiful -- See Jane Write.
Blogging is the love of my (writing) life.
And this is why I blog.