This is going to suck.

I haven’t actually published any of the things I’ve written because the first post is just too big of a moment. I’ve built the FIRST BLOG POST up to mean all these things that it may or may not mean. The first post sets the tone for my entire blog. People will either read it and stay or read it and leave. It has to get them to stay! It has to be profound and funny, poignant and edgy, and of course, it can’t offend anyone. I have to find a way to dance around the minefield of the internet, saying just.the.right.tiptoe.things to at once inspire everyone and offend no one. So I haven’t published anything yet because I was still planning. Crouching down from the sideline, surveying and strategizing and list making and preparing and meditating and percolating. Because I had convinced myself that that impossible task was something I could pull off. And because I was so busy doing all that prep work, I could never move my foot forward. I was never ready enough. Paralysis by analysis.

I was explaining to my husband why I hadn’t published anything yet, earnestly elaborating on how I was still figuring out how to craft the perfect first blog post. I talked and expounded and described and painted such a beautifully crafted picture of why I was living my life in the planning stages. We were driving up state for a family hike, and our favorite way to pass long drives is to get into deep, wide ranging conversations. I had talked and talked and talked, weaving what I felt was a compelling defense of why I couldn’t possibly publish anything yet. I wrapped up my argument, tied it up in a neat little amirite bow, and fell silent, waiting for his “You’re right, that’s such a big task, you are so amazing for putting so much thought into it, I know you’ll come up with something amazing because you always do because you are amazing” response.

“But that’s impossible,” is what he actually said.

Dammit.

“Just put something up. Anything. Something truly awful and shitty. Just get the first one out of the way so that you can get over this idea of perfection and move on,” is what he said next. And then he asked if we were going to stop for a bathroom break.

That’s what I get for marrying someone level headed.

That was months ago, y’all. I found so very many distractions as we rounded out summer with my two kids. But today, today I finally got tired enough of my own bullshit. Today I got tired of planning. I got tired of wishing I had a first post up so that I could share some other random post that had been running through my mind and heart. I got tired of living in the future.

So I started my first blog post with the truth. This is going to suck. This post may suck. This blog may not serve you. I might be a terrible writer and say insensitive things and step on toes and make grammatical mistakes and give you, dear internet reader, all the ammunition to skewer me alive, to e-burn me at the e-stake with your keyboard matches. And that? That will suck. But there will be so many other moments that don’t suck, moments that aren’t getting the chance to breathe, to live, to stretch their way out of my mind because I’m trying so desperately to avoid the suck.

So today I face the truth. This is going to suck. And it’s also not.

Here we go.