One hundred and one

One hundred and one posts. 

One hundred and one times I have shared my fears, my laughter, my craziness, my anger, my tears (oh so many tears), my love.

One hundred and one times that I have wrestled and talked and danced and rolled my eyes.

One hundred and one times… that it what it took to realize that I am a blogger.

I’m not really a blogger, I would say to friends and family who would mention my writing, nah, I just like to write. Blogging really isn’t my thing. I’m really, like really not a blogger. I don’t even read blogs.

Denial. Total and complete denial.

So, on this one hundred and first post, I can finally say that I am a blogger.

If a blogger is one that loves people, then I am a blogger.

If a blogger is one that wishes she could meet for coffee with everyone who reads her posts and chat and laugh and share stories, then I am a blogger.

If a blogger is one that simply wants people to know that they are not alone and they are truly loved, then, yes, I am proud to say I am a blogger.

 

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