One Year In

September marks the one-year anniversary for The Held Edge. I spent all summer working on the website, learning and doing things with technology I never thought I could do, but there I sat ready to hit post, excited and terrified. Yes, this was exciting, but putting content out there, for the world to see, is terrifying. I was opening myself up for judgement, failure, and people just not understanding me. I was being vulnerable. Sharing things with the whole world that many are afraid to admit to themselves, a close friend, or even their therapist.

But I wanted to try it. I had been through hell and made it back, and compared to my old life, I was finally doing more than functioning. I was in my ascent and wanted to build something. I had learned how to catch the raft when I was drowning and catch sight of the shore. I gained footing climbing back onto the shore. And had begun exploring new, scary, and beautiful parts of me and life. So, I hit post.

And what happened next was a year of a wild ride. Some of my fears came true. I had this great vision of reaching so many people, women and men, and that I could provide hope and encouragement for so many. The reality is, I have a few readers, mainly family who love seeing this side of me and watch my growth. And a few surprising social media acquaintances that reached out expressing how they love the way I write and the content I put out.

But the numbers remain low. I had done my research and knew that it takes years for a blog to grow, but honestly, the slow pace hit harder than I expected. It caused me to question myself and my mission more than I expected. The fear keeps trying to stoke a flame deep in my gut.

Judgement came too, though not the way I expected. One family member, from a different generation, asked me why I would want anyone to know those things about me — why write about it at all. In that generation, you just didn’t talk about those types of things. My first posts were raw and real on purpose, so people would know where I had come from and could actually trust what I said next.

Everything else has been far more positive than I expected. A friend once mentioned something I’d told her — I write how I speak and had spoken into her situation. When she repeated it to another friend, that friend recognized it as mine — she’d read enough of my blog to know the tone, and knew where it came from.

It has been a grueling year. Life doesn’t stop because you start a new venture. I still had to work full time and take on an additional part-time job for 6 months to be responsible and pay to take care of things that needed to be done. My friends and family still have life and health struggles. I too have fought through one of the physically harder years I have had in a while.

But boy did I learn a lot about myself. I learned my own limits. About as soon as I actively started posting, I began having health issues. Chronic conditions flared, my immune system seemed to tank. I gained 30lbs and felt physically my worst since before my hysterectomy in early 2020.

I was desperate for answers but all I got was — this is part of aging, perimenopause they said. I fought reality for months, looking for a diagnosis or something that would be a quick fix, because I was exhausted and the thought of doing one more thing or being accountable for one more thing was more than I could tolerate.

I had to learn to pivot. Not just write about self-care and honesty but live it. I didn’t want to quit. I believed in what I started, but I was terrified of the pivot, afraid I would lose the few readers I did have, that I would never regain my footing. But I listened to my body. I took a pause. And then I changed the rhythm. I was honest about the shift and the break, staying true to my mission — no excuses, reality, and honesty.

It wasn’t until I had that space — until I’d actually pivoted — that I could finally see clearly. When I stopped and was honest with myself, I knew the “just aging” explanation was a partial truth paired with the honest truth that I had done some of this to myself. I had created a vicious cycle of exhaustion and burnout that I physically could not tolerate, paired with the joys of this life stage. I learned I could adjust without abandoning.

Over the last year, I have learned that I am capable of a lot, but my mental, physical, emotional, and spiritual resources are not infinite. The Held Edge has helped hold a mirror to me. Am I living what I write and being accountable to myself? It is not in my nature to consciously say one thing and do another. I am one of those people who has a strong guilty conscience. I have the worst poker face and suck at lying.

When I wrote things, I had to honestly ask myself if I just know these things or if I am living them. Self-care was one of them. I struggled to make it a priority, and I realize now I was writing about it as much as a reminder to myself as anything else. Boundaries were another. I know and understand them, but I struggle to actually state them out loud — I’m so used to abandoning myself that I often forget to hold them at all.

Writing about it made me aware. Not perfect. Just aware. And once I could see where I wasn’t holding my own boundaries, I started speaking up more, recognizing my patterns, and slowly growing past them.

I feel like I have grown more in one year than I had in a long time, and this blog has been the catalyst.

I am not sure where the next year will lead. My own writing has brought up many ideas and possibilities for The Held Edge – whether all of them are worth pursuing, I honestly don’t know yet. If The Held Edge has given you a raft, helped you gain your footing, or given you space to choose to grow this year — stay. Join me for the ride, however it unfolds. And if you know someone who’s drowning, finding their footing, or ready to climb — bring them along too. It’s about who needs it. Onward.

Next up, I’ll be sharing some of my favorite posts from this first year — the ones that meant the most to write, or that people came back to again and again. Stay tuned.