Blog out loud

I first heard about Blog Out Loud (BOLO) several months ago and was intrigued by the idea. A night out, listening to a group of Ottawa bloggers read their favourite posts, and meeting some writers that I have been following for a long time; it all sounded great to me. It wasn't until a few weeks ago that I was really tempted to read out loud myself. I hesitated, unsure whether or not I should go through with it. I wasn't nervous so much about standing in front of a crowd reading, but more about what this group of mostly strangers, but some friends, would think about my writing. I've written in the past about my occasional twinge of blog envy. As I scanned through the last year of posts on my blog, I couldn't help but think that none of them would be 'good enough' for BOLO, that the crowd wouldn't really care about what I had to say. In the end, I decided to read my post Recipe for a Perfect Day.

I walked into Irene's Pub, feeling a bit nervous, but nothing unmanageable. As I talked to other bloggers waiting their turn to read, the nervous anxiety grew. I hadn't practiced. I hadn't timed myself. I had no idea what to say before I started to read my post. As I sat and listened to the bloggers ahead of me read, I rehearsed what I would say when it was my turn at the mic.

It was finally my turn. Lynn introduced me, and asked the crowd to support me since I was feeling a bit nervous. The response I got was amazing. Everyone clapped and cheered as I found my place on the stage. And I started. The first few words out of my mouth came out cracked and pitchy, but I slowed down and tried to stay in control. I read about that perfect day, slowly, pausing in appropriate places, making eye contact occasionally. Within a couple of minutes, it was over. The crowd clapped, and clapped some more, and cheered some too. I went back to my seat feeling loved, admired, accepted. I beamed in my seat as the last readers took their turns.

I left BOLO with a feeling that I belonged, to a community of people just like me. Moms who are struggling with the hardships and triumphs of raising children. Women with past experiences both good and bad, that have shaped who they are today. People with stories to tell, some funny, some serious. We were all the same. We were all writers. I left BOLO having been reminded that it didn't matter if my writing wasn't 'as good' as everyone else's. What mattered was that I had stories to tell, and what I had to say mattered.


(photo courtesy of @sarammcconnell)

Just before I left for the evening, Lynn who organized the event, said that I seemed so familiar to her, like we had met before. We hadn't met before, but she had been reading my blog. She wrote a wonderful post about me on the BOLO blog. She took the time to delve into my past posts and summarize, quite accurately, who I am. And I was familiar to her.

BOLO was an incredibly satisfying experience for me because it reconfirmed why I write. It's a place where I can share my stories foremost for my children, but also it's a place where I can be me. I very much feel like my blog is an extension of who I am. It's kind of funny that it took an experience of feeling a bit uncomfortable, standing on a stage in a room full of strangers all focusing on me, watching me, formulating opinions of me, to remind me that it doesn't really matter at all whether they think my writing is good or not. Because my writing is me, and I write for me. And I am good enough.

Thank you Lynn, for a truly amazing experience. Can't wait for next year. BOLOFEST?