The dark truth behind Wonderland Creek (clickbait)
I want to have a chat about something very insignificant.
Back in 2014, when I was 15, I started my blog, Wonderland Creek. It was March, I was the first in my un-technical-no-biggies-with-Internet-stuff-family to do this; I was excited as a three year old Laura getting that rag doll for Christmas. You most likely know this story, because I have posted about it before. I was the homeschooled Period Drama fanatic who only listened to the Andrew Sisters and who thought the other Period Drama bloggers back in the day were Royalty. Pride and Prejudice was my lifestyle and making headers was my greatest ideal of earthly bliss.
Obviously, I am exaggerating for entertainment's sake, but I am not exaggerating when I say that my blog was my golden nugget of pride - and for a moment, my favourite thing in my life. It was my hobby, The Thing I thought about first when I woke up. I was excited, excited about it. I love that I was excited about it. If I could go back four (4! gosh!) years and sit on my bed with my fifteen-year-old self I would tell her, yes, go Naomi, do it. I am proud of my younger self for embarking on the blogging journey, on doing what she loved, pursuing her small but big dream of running a no-big-deal-blog and making it a nice place. It's a good thing for a teenage girl to do. To write about innocent stuff and to make friends with people who sit in similar-shaped boats.
(I do have to admit, I would tell my younger self one thing. Don't make something not-God your god. Not that I did, but I think 15-yr-old me could have dealt with a deep thought about that. You know, a gentle reminder now and then that it's not the most important thing to do.)
I was fifteen, venturing in my years of adulthood, walking out of my awkward preeteen years. I had learnt so much about avoiding awkwardness, Jesus, and how I thought of deep subjects. The first two years of blogging I learnt so much more about those three things. Especially avoiding awkwardness and Jesus. Especially Jesus. Oh man, the crying-crumbling-down-because-of-Jesus'-love happened around when I sixteen. I had always known Jesus' love but around when I was sixteen it was like it hit me. Fifteen year old me loved God. Nineteen year old me loves God more. I know I still don't know the extent of it though. And that's what makes life worth living. We have a living Love to discover, explore and follow. And I want that love from me to my Maker to grow deeper and deeper till I get to hug Jesus in person.
Anyway, back to blogging. Sheesh, we don't want to get distracted talking about Jesus. :-P
By the way, if you are waiting for a climax to this post, stop waiting. This is literally just a discombobulated chat like it would be me and you sitting on the weeds in the little field at the youth group, with boys playing football behind us, God's Not Dead (the song not the movie) playing on the speaker, and the sun setting down to say hello to the Australian folks. But then without saying 'like' and thinking about sentence structure and an interesting word now and then. (Like that word 'discombobulated.' Emma taught me that word, back in the early days.)
So yes, 15 year old me. More about her. Honestly, she is me and we're still very much the same person. (lol wow obvs). It would be interesting to make two lists. One of how we've changed, and one of how we're the same still. And then make such lists every four or five years. I am still the same person, still single (heh), only I have elaborated thoughts, I have grown spiritually (not sure about mentally haha; sometimes I feel like used to be more wise), I have adapted new attitudes about life and I have learnt more things. I have gotten so much more experience. And independence. Which is pretty normal, but there's no waste in pointing out the obvious. I think I have also gained a little wit. I used to have awkward wit. Now it's so awkward it's funny. I think I've also become 100 times more extrovert and passionate about people.
Interestingly, as I have ventured closer to twenty I have cared less to act twenty. I have heard other people say this too; I think that's a common thing. Younger teenagers want to be taken seriously, so they try hard to act like the person they want to be taken as. Which is completely understandable and also actually kind of sad because I hate it that people label anyone between 12 and 18 as a phone-addicted parent-hating moron. But then when you reach 'adulthood' (what even is that) people are less likely to 'judge' (although I still look 16 so yay) and you can finally be 'un-adult' because you are one anyway, so it's up to you to define what adult is to you. If that makes any sense.
Also wow, my writing. It is by NO means a polished piece of English art now - I often read other bloggers and I drool at their simplistic and classy way of sharing experiences through their words - but man haven't I come a long way. Read any post from 2014 and you can just feel the lack of life behind the sentences; not because I wasn't enthusiastic but because I lacked practice in word crafting. If there's one thing I am thankful about for my blog, it's the way it's helped me develop a better writing style. Improved my English and all that.
No, that's not true. I am most thankful for the people I've met through this blogging jour ---no, I can't say the word 'journey' that just sounds way too cliché. Can't do it. Just can't. But seriously, I have met the best gals whom I can truly call friends I trust and love. Emma Jane, the girl who let me write a guest post about Period Drama underwear on her blog before I even had mine is now my darling wise and loyal American side-kick I phone to ask her to tell me to get schoolwork done. Gabby, the anonymous commenter who told me her brother was visiting my home town, Waterloo, is now my steady pen friend and my sweet encourager. Natalie, whose blog I stalked from the age of like 13 onwards, is now my email pal and on my list of favourite redheads. I could go on. Point made: Thank you Jesus.
Now it's your turn to talk.
You asked about my blogging life now. You say the enthusiasm has drooped out of my posts. You say that I am embarrassed of my blog because I didn't put the link in my instagram bio (that proves it.) That's not true. I love this blog. It is simply not my pride and glory. Don't bite me; that's ok and that's normal. One can't always have the same rush of adrenaline about a hobby. I guess I feel continually unsatisfied with what I post online; and that's not my favourite feeling. But I'm not going to overdramatise this unnecessarily. Nothing is happening, I am not officially dropping off the face of the interwebs, I'm simply stating a little fact. The first thing I think about when I wake up is not Wonderland Creek. And that's a-okay. Don't be silly and say otherwise.
I should do this more. Just TELL. This has been fun. Would you like to hear a funny little story that happened to me on the bus the day before yesterday?
Also what do you think of my new blog look? Don't it look lit... can't you feel the sunrays? (That's the look I went for. haha.)