Three or four years have passed since I was what could be considered an active blogger, but this corner of the internet has been on my mind almost daily. I have written hundreds of posts in my mind, taken thousands of pictures, and keep paying my domain and hosting fees, fighting off offers to buy my domain. I have survived my critics, both those inside my head and internet trolls who become brave behind a keyboard. What do I have to say anymore? Why would anyone want to read my random ramblings? Truth is, I don’t do it for clicks or views or shares or like. I write for me. At least, that’s why I did in the very beginning. I originally started this blog almost 8 years ago as a creative outlet and opportunity to share with our friends and family. This blog was my baby before I had babies. And then it got away from me, or I put it on the back burner. Is this a fashion blog or a more technical ag blog? Should I try to monetize it, how would I do that, will it lose its soul? The last few years my struggle has been more about exposure. With our lives splattered all over social media to see, I think I have had the equivalent of adrenal fatigue syndrome when it came to blogging. And then there is the privacy issue. It’s a scary thing to put yourself out there, with your husband and children and career in tow, knowing that there are a few people who wish bad things on you. That those people watch your social media looking for opportunities to hurt you. My first instinct was to circle the wagons, button down the hatches and play defense, but in doing so I gave them power that they did not deserve. I quit writing and I quit telling my story. That shit stops today. This is my story. It’s based on my life. The stories are true and they are my own, sometimes they are funny and light, sometimes things are serious. Who wouldn’t want to read about that?!