She didn’t look back once. I stood there, watching her frame go through the new fangled body scan, explaining to whomever was questioning her that she didn’t speak English, and I didn’t even savour the moment of seeing her disappear in the swarms of colorful people all around her. My warm and loving mother didn’t look back once, to look at my face one more time.
Clearly, that’s who I get it from, the habit of not looking back, even metaphorically; to move on to different shores and leave what’s done behind. Which might explain why I have been mulling over this post for longer than usual, struggling to find the essence of what I wanted to say.
Campari and Sofa has blown its first birthday candle and hasn’t expressed any wishes. So far, sofagirl and I have gone with the flow, lately even more than usual, and this first anniversary caught us a bit by surprise. Or, rather, we knew it was coming but I, for one, kept on postponing the looking back moment, the lessons learnt inventory.
Of course, like any blogger who posts on a regular basis, I could talk about the virtual friendships that were formed, the sense of community, the fear of baring in public, the constructive criticism and even the fun of it. It would all be true. But that seemed par for the course even at the onset of this adventure.
And like most bloggers, we found our way slowly, stumbling every so often, probably making every single mistake in the book; including falling for the glitter of bigger ventures , such as the Huffington Post, that fell into our lap a few months in. We learnt as we went along, often cursing the intricacies of WP and then appreciating their help that swiftly came when we asked.
About a month after we started blogging, sofagirl mentioned that we had reached the point when more strangers were reading than the well-meaning friends we black-mailed into subscribing. “That’s weird”, she said, with a bit of pride in her voice. And, indeed, two things stand out as the most gratifying:
1. realizing that, despite (or maybe because?) our full and busy lives, man – in our case, woman – hasn’t lost the need to reach out and connect. Most of the people who participate in C&S’s discussion come across as well-rounded human beings, with interesting minds and lives and pursuits who read for pleasure but also to connect their experiences with like-minded individuals.
2. this blog was conceived as a four hands endeavour, with duties equally divided and, at times, opposing voices that are not afraid to differ, but never judge. If I look back, it’s a grown up friendship distilled in pages, something we could have never anticipated when we first met. It’s a sort of roadmap about growing wiser and it’s been an absolute pleasure to share it with so many women (and some lovely men) who have cheered, supported, disagreed and put in their own, valuable, two cents.
sofagirl and I have been talking a lot lately about where to go from here. I spent some time doing research, reading blogging books and they all amount to the same advice you will easily find with a click. It’s not new territory anymore. We set out to write what interested us, what we thought mattered to women our age who are often shortchanged and lumped together with velour track suits, Dr Oz or strings of pearls. In the process, we have learnt a few more things about ourselves, a lot about you and have had enormous fun, even on the days when the blank page was “blanker” than usual.
A lot has happened since the day C&S was conceived, on an actual sofa in Rome, with Campari glasses staining the coffee table, trying not to sweat our brains out in the July heat. A lot more will happen. For now, we will keep on filling those blank pages. Even two control freaks like us have learnt that, sometimes, not knowing is part of the fun.
Happy blog-a-versary my friendie…Just knocked off one of those 9,220 hours.