But barely. In blog terms, that is. I’ve been considering a lot lately that maybe my time as Hy is coming to an end, at least the version of Hy that I have been. The voracious eater of men and writer of posts.
I’m tired of running Boobday, I’m tired of feeling bad all the time for not being a good blogging friend, I’m tired of not having anything to say that seems sexy or interesting.
This has happened to me before with my old mommy blog, the one I poured myself into as a stay at home mom with a baby and eventually a toddler, but felt all wrong once I left my husband and my “SAHM” status was no more. I struggled with it for about a year, limping along, barely writing anything except gut wrenching posts about missing my baby every day and my fear for the future.
Before I moved out I started my first sex blog, though I didn’t know that’s what it was called. I just started writing the way I write about my sex life, my new sex life. And then I started another one. And then I finally started this one on WordPress and everything changed. Everything.
My life, my loves, my very being was now free to be whatever and whomever I pleased. Seven years on I feel like I have nothing to share anymore and even better, no need to share it. I have my tribe; I’m not alone anymore.
Despite my apathy, I’m looking forward to February Photo Fest and then Eroticon and to the Smut Marathon. I am and always will be a writer and an exhibitionist, after all, and I’m a consummate extrovert to boot, so all of those things embody me to a tee.
And look, I’m even too lazy (and rushed) to link to all the things in this first round draft. I’ll circle back around later and link up.
Anyway, just my two cents to say I’m still here. Mostly.