Someone’s back.

Hi. Again.

I’m back blogging — jump-started by a writing workshop I went to a couple of Sundays ago. The two-hour session with the editor/author Pam Pastor, someone I looked up to for the longest time as she was once a blogger too, rekindled probably the only pursuit I’ve ever been passionate about.

#YellowCabSoWorthIt Writing Workshop

I likened it to coming back after a frontal lobotomy because I am trying to relearn everything from HTML codes to widgets. I only hope that the frustration that is now building up as I am going over on the basics of blogging won’t make me quit it again. Gee, I certainly don’t have the patience of my twentysomething-blogger-self anymore.

People who read my blog from way back asked me why I stopped. To tell you the truth, it was simply burnout; I got exhausted from it all. I could say I got awfully boring, and my routine has become such a clockwork that I have no more time and energy to wait for my old laptop to boot (which can take forever), even more so compose a post. Since I hit my late thirties, all I want is to sleep when I get home.

I also got tired of being constantly careful and making sure that what I write wouldn’t offend anybody. There had been times when my words were taken out of context that it even embroiled me in sticky situations and disagreements both personally and professionally.

In the past four to five years, political correctness had become so customary that expressing one’s view got tricky. In the end, it turned me off from blogging because so many things became inappropriate to say as everybody gets offended about something. We're in the Snowflake generation, some said, that we had to “tread carefully”.

Then there were the trolls. If I can’t stress this enough, the word “troll” for me back in the day were those ‘90s plastic dolls with colorful hair. Now it’s a nasty person who does nothing but attack and offend. Think of how ugly the internet has become that troll has even evolved into a verb (as in trolling).

In my early years of blogging and I see a nasty comment on my blog, it’s highly likely that it’s from someone who hates me just because. They used the teeny comment box to tell me what they can’t say to my face without the risk of getting punched. There was a time I got a comment that I looked like an arinola (Tagalog for chamber pot) and how my blog’s the “worst blog ever”. It’s easy to guess that the comment was from someone who I know or knows me, as the attack was too personal and had nothing to do with my post. Even so, I can shrug all of that off.

But later on, seeing comments attacking me on my beliefs, values and how I view things had gotten so many that I had no choice but to moderate the comments section. There were comments telling me how my post offended them, when it wasn't even my intention at all. I usually write about what goes on in my day and if I happen to express my views then it's purely accidental and in no way meant to sway others. I never claim to be the sole proprietor of truth. I never said I'm always right. It’s one thing to be criticized on how I looked or how I write; it’s a different story if it’s on how I should live my life.

Another reason why I stopped is the utter horror of realizing how I exposed myself out there. If there’s one thing I regret and would probably smack my old self for is how I overshared. Oh my God, backreading my old posts from the early 2000s made my skin crawl for TMI. You can Google who I dated in 2008 and it’s there — albeit hidden in some tacky code name, but it’s there for everyone to see, kadiri. There’s also that slight cringe seeing the pictures I post before, looking like the very people Pres. Duterte vowed to eradicate on his war on drugs. LOL.

I have learned a tough lesson on oversharing. Now, my Twitter and Instagram had gone private and my old blog is archived. I have also adjusted some of the settings on my Facebook account, so I control what is shared. While I’ll make this blog public, I will refrain from naming names (even mine, my company, etc.) and sharing the really personal stuff such as relationships and the like.

I tried coming back a couple of years ago with another blog from Wordpress but I wasn’t able to sustain it as I initially intended it to be a blog mainly about my feelings. Let's be honest here, no one wants to read about the mere verbalization of my emotions. You can’t expect people, even my most loyal of readers, to subscribe to my everyday drama. Frankly, it got so toxic even for me.

You’ll be surprised to know that most people just love reading about the light and witty stuff like my commuter stories or a funny encounter I had inside an elevator. I guess that’s also where I am good at: Free-form, pantster-writing.

I don’t regret meeting the people through my old blog though. If for anything, it is and will always be the best part of my blogging journey. It blows me away to know that I have readers from other countries and while I have never met any of them in person, I will always be profoundly grateful.

When some of them learned that I attended a writing workshop recently, they messaged me telling me to blog again like they're actually excited about a comeback. It made me think that perhaps, in all those years of blog-writing, I somewhat connected with them on a deeper level. That maybe, just maybe, I am more likable and relatable through my writing.

Some had been made aware of my knack for writing because of my old blog. In the office, I have been the “go-to” person when they needed a write-up or an article for the intranet site. Although my writing still needs a lot of improvement and practice — methinks, it makes me somewhat proud that I have such skill. Even as a young girl, I’ve always been good in expressing my thoughts into words, anyway. Better than what my face and my mouth could ever say.

Mommy was quite happy when I told her about the writing workshop. She said I shouldn't have let other people stop me from doing what I love to do. Mommy said so as if writing is my calling and that I was a Pulitzer-prize winner. If that isn't enough to get out of my writer's funk, I don't know what else will.

So here I am.