Polarize

2014 was the best year of my life. It was also the worst.

I stopped writing very personal things on the Internet around the time that Corey came into my life in 2009, perhaps a little after.  I wrote stuff for magazines here and there, and I leveraged the relationships I’d built through my blog for a lot of career and personal gain, but I learned (slowly, over ten years, because I’m often a little thick) that there is almost no long term benefit in laying your goosebumped-plucked-raw heart onto the Internet for examination.  There are people who circle your shitty experiences, of course, and modify them for good in their own lives. But there are also vultures who circle and dive and gorge themselves on your vulnearable bloody innards and those people – together with Facebook – killed the deeply personal blog.

In 2014, I posted pictures on Instagram of our happy family, I incredulously, tearily welcomed the wise-old-soul eyes of my daughter.  I enjoyed a sunny warm maternity leave with my small humans and discovered the deepness of my friendships and the comfort of handholding through shared tears.  I started a blazing new career with the coolest company in the country.  I moved into a new house on the ocean with the people I love the best, crossing off a major life goal that at one point had seemed absurd.

There was an undercurrent of blackness in the background, though, that pervaded through the year.  You’d never know.  It’s OK.  The blackness is hovering in the wings of every stable thing you think you know.  It dissipates and recedes and paves way for hope , though, if you believe hard enough.  That’s what mattered most about 2014.  We all believed hard enough. And so fuck you, blackness on the side.  I believe we won’t see you again for a very long time.

Happy 2015 everyone, 17 days late and a dollar short and filled with good intentions and intense belief for you and yours as well.

10 thoughts on “Polarize

  1. I’ve been reading/lurking since the days of the bad neighborhood, a haunted doll and that white dog. (At least I think it was a doll- it may have been in the basement?) Anyway, I’ve always loved your writing and I thank you for sharing. It always made me feel more “normal.” Thank you for sharing.

  2. Oh, that first sentence, I could have written it…I also had a baby, the most delicious, blue-eyed bundle of gorgeous, but his delivery and the subsequent recovery almost broke me. I find it so hard to allow myself to say that 2014 largely sucked, because it feels somehow as if I’m betraying him. But I’m coming to a place of peace about it – 2014 was the year that almost finished me off…and 2015 will be the year I stop making excuses and get my shit together! I’ve been reading since I once came across a link to ‘I Call Bull’ and have enjoyed your writing since – here’s to a better year for you and yours!

  3. I have also been reading since the days of “fat skinny”, sketchy neighbourhoods, the birth of Nolan and Jordy that sometimes beligerent white dog. Your blog inspires all of us to realize the “not normal” is in fact, completely normal. Thank you for that.

  4. I have been reading you since the dawn of time, every post better than the last. Thanks for sharing. I was wishing your old archives were still available since I have a great friend in the midst of a heart-wrenching break-up and thought she would so benefit from reading how you rose from the ashes. Your strength and the way you find beauty in everything is inspiring, Kristin!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s