where the writers are
of fear and exposure

It's true:  I've lost my balls.  I hardly know what my current blog statistics are (my husband used to follow this for me and gleefully report it), but for a couple years my readership crept up, and up, and up.  It was easy to write and I did it almost daily.  I wrote about my own life with no embellishments and no exaggeration.  I wrote what I knew.  I wrote as if it were my private journal, but also in a concerted effort to communicate to someone else, anyone else reading.

 These days I feel stifled; having moved to a small town and feeling less bold, a little shaken by this or that life experience (which I won't belabor here), and I can hardly bring myself to tell the story of my day, or to comment on contemporary politics or the things that chew me up inside.  In short, I haven't been writing the way I used to, and the way I found successful.  Each entry might expose my naivette, my rudeness, my hick-ignorance.   Given as a body of work I feel confident my entries won't sink me, but when my fingers are on the keys these days, timidity sets in.

 It's not possible for one to live life without risks, but lately I've been acting like it is.

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Writing and home making

Kelly, will write fast because my lap top will run out of battery soon.  I know exactly where you are coming from!  I am a mother of three boys and my husband is a psychologist.  I live in the countryside in Ireland and what you wrote sounds a little like me too.  I have decided that we must carry on with our true voice, to be brave and not to drown in domesticity. I know how easy it is to get sidetracked into laundry, sleepovers and general house maintenance.  This too can be celebrated but we also have to realise our own potential and if so to maintain it.  It is a struggle but a necessary one and hey what is life without a struggle.  That's what its all about!  Keep going and don't have any regrets. I loved what your wrote and how you wrote it. Thanks. Mary Wilkinson, Galway, Ireland.