Yesterday I was nobody. I was one small person, filing away the fiddly bits of her life in a blog. I didn’t expect to be read, I didn’t know if I wanted to be read. There is safety in anonymity. I wrote about whatever I felt like, because I had no audience to conform to.
Yesterday, everything changed. It started out with a ridiculously full email box, which led me to my dashboard, where my views had skyrocketed over the 1,000 mark.
My first thought was that I was being attacked by a virus.
Then I started reading the comments: your comments. Congratulations, they said. Good job. The words Freshly Pressed appeared a lot, but I couldn’t quite wrap my fingers around the words; feel their realness.
When it did start pushing its way through my thick head, I was utterly stunned. I keep looking at the WordPress front page, trying to make myself believe this is happening to me. Me, of all people. My name was out there, where Good Bloggers had stood, where Real Writers had thrust their flags into the earth and said “here will I abide”.
My name didn’t belong there.
But I am infinitely thankful that it was put there anyway. Because of it, I have been given a glimpse of all the fantastic people out there. I have met a cerebral lover of Sherlock Holmes, a wonderful cook who makes the most fantastic felted slippers. I’ve met art students with stupendous pink hair, photographers who make me weak at the knees and a myriad of people who were nice enough to give a few minutes of their day to just say hello.
Every viewer, commenter, “liker”, subscriber: thank you. You made me smile, made me cry, made me thankful to a part of all of this. You challenged my belief that no one cared to read what I said. You ushered me into a new, big, slightly frightening world. You will probably never see my face, hear my voice, or know who I really am. But you did it anyway.
You made yesterday what it was.
I woke up this morning, and somehow felt the world should have shifted around what happened. That I should have woken up different, the kind of blogger who deserved something like this.
My cat still gets three-quarters of the bed, and I still have a sprained foot. My tea is still never quite the right temperature, I still don’t match my clothes. My bedroom is still disorganized. I still eat too many licorice jelly beans.
I’m still a nobody, filing the fiddly bits. But you, every one of you, have made it special, made it something bigger than me.
Thank you, from the bottom of my heart.