Reevaluating my choices | Hannah

This week I have been thinking about a lot of things. Among those things was a slightly alarming thought that I ought to be keeping a blog, to keep track of my proficiency progress. As technology is amazing these day, I am able to make it look like I uploaded twice a week on the right day, yet this is not the truth. The truth is that I have been lacking inspiration to write anything, except in moments of extreme emotion or deep nightly-I-should-be-sleeping-thought, that I probably will never post on the internet. Because, as all of you understand, even though I will share an awful lot on the internet, some things are, in fact, private.

"Why do you have so many blogs?" A teacher asked, when I told her about my love for blogging at the beginning of this project. I did not have to think about that for one second. I was a very enthusiastic 14-year-old and the thing I loved most was pouring my heart out in new projects. And it was great. Especially at the beginning. The end .. not so great, merely because of the fact that I would never finish it. I would start something. It would be quite good at first, but over time I would loose interest. Only because it just didn't challenge me anymore. I got bored, I stopped putting time and energy into it. As a result: the project was forgotten. That is why I now am kind of skilled at drawing and I am kind of skilled at playing the guitar and I played violin for a few years and I barely passed my havo exams. The list goes on and on. But I was answering the question why I have so many blogs? The things is.. a blog doesn't 'end'. It is not like a book with a beginning and an ending. It's just there, if you know what I mean. So, I think that was very appealing to me. I could start with enthusiasm, over and over and over again. So, I feel like reevaluating my love for blogging. That is what you are about to read: my reevaluation.

As a teenager, any possible chance I got to get my voice out into the world, trying to make a difference, thinking it would make one, I grabbed. As probably a lot of teenagers would do. My 'chance', if you will, was the phenomenon 'blogging'. I did not read any blogs. Nor did I know anyone who blogged. Honestly, I don't even know how I got to blogging. I just did. And I had a fabulous time doing it. I never doubted the fact that anyone would read my blogs, ever, but still .. I heard of this girl named Anne Frank, who kept a diary and it made her famous. For good reason, I might add: she gave the world an insight into her heart, in the midst of a war. It is heartbreaking and it gave and gives people one thing, the one thing we all want: hope. As a conclusion, I launched blog post after blog post containing all my teenage angst and emotion into the world. My poems, which contained personal views as well as views from other people (which some people still don't understand: I suck at debating, yet I can perfectly write a poem that is drenched in emotion about a topic that I wholeheartedly do not agree with). Furthermore, I wrote teenage love stories, stories about adventures I would probably never go on. And I journal-ed (is that even a word? Probably not.). I kept an online-dairy. I just wrote what happened in a day, how I felt. Yet as I look back at these blog posts, they only reach a certain surface level. I almost never mentioned to anyone, not even to myself, how I really felt back then. I am very grateful for my enthusiastic teenage-self. For the courage and confidence I had to put those things on the actual internet.

As an older teen, reading all these fiction - I repeat: fiction - books about teens my age actually making that difference, it made me realize something. It was fake. The difference they made in those books: it wasn't real, so why would my pathetic blog posts make any difference. Luckily, I am not a pessimistic person, at all. In fact, I am a very positive and hopeful person. So I also realized that writing in general helped me think, helped me create and helped me become more myself and a better person. As you realize by now: I did not make the difference I thought I would make when I was 15. I do however still believe in what I once read in a book about a 16-year-old fighting the system: I believe in small acts of bravery. Not even conquering or saving necessarily, but the act of trying your very best to achieve something better for the world around you.

So I was wondering if I still loved blogging as much as I did 6 years ago. And I do. Just in a different way. I still love having my voice heard, but now probably in a less obnoxious and a much more reserved, more thought through way. I want people to look at things from more than only their own perspective. There is beauty is raw and unedited writing, but there might be more value, in the long haul, in writing that comes from a peaceful mind and a place of thoughtfulness. 


Less than three,


a teacher-to-be,


Hannah