because writing here... is cheaper than therapy
I have not written here in a long time. I have felt vulnerable and a bit unsure of my place in bloggyland. I originally started an online diary,in 2001 shortly after 9/11 occurred. I had stumbled into this voyeuristic world of online "diary's" where people wrote about their first hand experiences with the world trade center disaster and it utterly captivated me. I felt a certain kinship, with these people, because at the time, I lived near nyc, I flew in and out of JFK, and I often stayed at the Marriot hotel, at the WTC, in fact I had reservations to stay there, 3 days after the towers fell.
and hence, my spinster nanny diary was born. It was a clumsy jumble of bad poetry and mysterious longings for a rogueish casanova, interspersed with tales of my life as a greenwich nanny, living inside a gilded cage . and if you were forced to read the archives, which are on my links, you would hardly know the realdrama of the behind the scenes tale, of how it all came to a gigantic head. when I became pregnant. by an even more rogueish, more evil casanova.
and so I stumbled forward and tried to write my way through the pregnancy, archiving what I could, but a huge part of me felt like what i had to share was not as valueable, as interesting, because i was doing every step of it, on my own. and I felt so sad, that something that should be the happiest time of my life, was suddenly, the lonliest, and scariest place i have ever been. and i still carry some of that bittersweetness, with me. I never had a baby shower. it is strange how much that bothers me now. I spent so much of my pregnancy being terrified, and scared. and now, over 5 years later, it makes me feel bad, that i was not able to be more excited, that my daughter was not more CELEBRATED, by me, by my friends, by her own father.... etc. and now, I couldn't love her more. If I had truly had faith, and surrendered it all.
and then I just got stuck. in how I did not seem to fit in, in the world of mommy blogs, which is where i was now dwelling. because of this innate sadness, that i can not seem to shake. amidst the joy, dear lord, such joy. perhaps it is the scope of the joy itself, that makes the sadness so acute. because i am witnessing and experiencing most of my best moments, alone. albeit sierra is an ever present constant. but it is in the loving her so much part, that it actually aches a bit, because it is like watching an exquisite sunset spread out in pink and orange hued ribbons across the horizon, in silence, and if someone else is experiencing it with you, you can watch it in awe, and not even have to speak, the majesty itself is enough.
but my sister alyssa keeps encouraging me to try. to try and find my voice here. once upon a time, I used to be funny. amusing and witty even. and god knows, my kid is hilarious. so perhaps i will try. to share a little bit of our day to day lives.
and thank you for watching the sunset and rise with me. everyday. even in silence. it is comforting just the same. and god knows. it is cheaper than therapy.
and hence, my spinster nanny diary was born. It was a clumsy jumble of bad poetry and mysterious longings for a rogueish casanova, interspersed with tales of my life as a greenwich nanny, living inside a gilded cage . and if you were forced to read the archives, which are on my links, you would hardly know the realdrama of the behind the scenes tale, of how it all came to a gigantic head. when I became pregnant. by an even more rogueish, more evil casanova.
and so I stumbled forward and tried to write my way through the pregnancy, archiving what I could, but a huge part of me felt like what i had to share was not as valueable, as interesting, because i was doing every step of it, on my own. and I felt so sad, that something that should be the happiest time of my life, was suddenly, the lonliest, and scariest place i have ever been. and i still carry some of that bittersweetness, with me. I never had a baby shower. it is strange how much that bothers me now. I spent so much of my pregnancy being terrified, and scared. and now, over 5 years later, it makes me feel bad, that i was not able to be more excited, that my daughter was not more CELEBRATED, by me, by my friends, by her own father.... etc. and now, I couldn't love her more. If I had truly had faith, and surrendered it all.
and then I just got stuck. in how I did not seem to fit in, in the world of mommy blogs, which is where i was now dwelling. because of this innate sadness, that i can not seem to shake. amidst the joy, dear lord, such joy. perhaps it is the scope of the joy itself, that makes the sadness so acute. because i am witnessing and experiencing most of my best moments, alone. albeit sierra is an ever present constant. but it is in the loving her so much part, that it actually aches a bit, because it is like watching an exquisite sunset spread out in pink and orange hued ribbons across the horizon, in silence, and if someone else is experiencing it with you, you can watch it in awe, and not even have to speak, the majesty itself is enough.
but my sister alyssa keeps encouraging me to try. to try and find my voice here. once upon a time, I used to be funny. amusing and witty even. and god knows, my kid is hilarious. so perhaps i will try. to share a little bit of our day to day lives.
and thank you for watching the sunset and rise with me. everyday. even in silence. it is comforting just the same. and god knows. it is cheaper than therapy.


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