I have a feeling I shouldn’t publish this post.
Not because it’s going to be very shocking, far from it. But it might come out as some kind of a rant, which it really isn’t. It’s just a reflexion I’ve been juggling with for months now, and I feel that putting it in words might help me really figure things out for myself… Maybe not. I’ll have to wait and see.
A dear friend of mine recently embarked on an exciting journey. I’ll introduce you all to her when the timing’s good for her, but in short, she started a blog and an Instagram account to share one of her many passions, her profound love for books.
The young woman is terribly talented in many ways. She has an artistic soul, and it translates into everything she touches. Her baking, her writing, her drawings, her picture taking. But I must say, her most special gift is to be able to write a book review and make you want to read it.
When she told me she was thinking about building something online to make her reviews available to the world, I thought that was an amazing idea. Straight from the start, I encouraged her to do it, and everytime I could, I provided her with tips I learnt through my now six years as a blogger.
Unlike me, she is very organized. And after working on both her blog and her Instagram account, she launched her ”little project” a little over a week ago.
She ran her pictures and articles by me, and I could see all of her potential… She just had to do it. And she did.
I warned her that the first couple of weeks (months) might be quite slow followers-wise, especially since she writes in French, which is not as widely spoken as English.
But I was mistaken. She’s doing great (particularly on Instagram), and tonight, the editing company of one of her book reviews asked if they could use her post on their accounts, and she was so very excited about it.
So was I. Or should I say, so am I.
I easily could have felt jealous. But I was just happy that things are going so well for her.
To me, it’s just normal. She found that something special she had to offer to the world, and she’s doing it very well even if it is recent.
But how about me? Although I have a lot of fun with keeping The Cove alive, I still haven’t found what that special thing is, that I can bring to the world. I ramble, and share tid bits of my (not very impressive) life, and try to make you Lovelies smile… But after all these years, I haven’t found one thing I’m really, really-really good or special at.
As I said in the introduction, this has nothing to do with self-pity. I just wonder how long it will take me to find out what exactly I am doing here? I used to accuse the pandemic for my self-questionning… Now I think it is my turning into the forties that triggered these stalking thoughts.
Maybe, I’m just not meant to do something spectacular.