I quit blogging.

In my head, I quit. It was the first time I considered a new approach to sharing my ideas and who I am online. 

Maybe blogging isn’t the best way for me to get my ideas into the world?

It seems crazy to think I’d stop blogging, but the reality is there are 1000 platforms from which to share my ideas. 

On Instagram, I’m rocking #the100dayproject with 1 new joke a day (#laughsbylalita). On Facebook, I run an invite-only woman’s group to help cultivate authenticity and creativity. On Snapchat, I’m running a muck. It’s pure foolery and dog pics. And I have no idea wtf I’m doing on Twitter. I never really got it. So I share my jokes, my writings, and retweet people’s work that resonates. 

It didn’t feel good to be in all places at once, so I began asking myself how to focus?

It was time to rethink how I show up online. 

Buffer shared a two minute video on the best way to create a content strategy. According to the Buffer team (and advice I often share with clients), the key is to address these three questions: 

  1. What do you want to say?
  2. How do you want to say it?
  3. Where do you want to say it? 

But I found these questions both affirming and confrontational at the same time. 

Because when we’re in the middle of figuring out our voice…

When we’re reaching to the depths of our creative range to see what we’re made of…

When we’re leaving one box for a bigger home over there in Lala land…it's in this moment that the answers to these questions are most deeply desired. They act as a refuge from the blinding night that creativity can often feel like. 

F*ck yes to answers. 

Buy answers are not always available. Not immediately, because we’re in the middle of living them versus looking them up in a book. 

Some answers need to be experienced first-hand and our voice is most certainly one of those things. 

Upon reflection, I realized that I do want to blog. I love writing. I love sharing my experiences online. In fact, I want to reach a shit ton more people. Like, billions. I’d like to reach the stars, if I could. 

But I don’t yet know where I’m going and that feels daunting. My “box” isn’t yet solidified and while I see the pieces moving together, I’m excitedly anxious. 

Can you relate?