It doesn't take much for me to spiral backwards in time. Sometimes it's a happy memory, sometimes it's not. To be honest, usually it's not. I had a very unhappy memory this morning.
But this evening was different. I felt a very strange recollection of the early days of this blog. Back when I started. I'd had the idea in the shower (this, you should know) and I'd finally gotten around to writing the blog, thus breaking down the barrier that had held me in place for so long (this, you should also know). I was giddy with a mixture of anxiety and excitement. I remember carrying a light in my heart. I've got a sex blog now. Terribly illicit. Discreet. My family don't know; my friends don't know... it was brilliant. Brilliant.
I was elated for those first few months with the sense closest to pride I think I've ever felt. My family said I seemed almost happy, although they didn't know why. I think they assumed I was enjoying my job (and that's not too far from the truth; in some aspects, I was). I sneaked my blog into my daily life where I could. I went into town once and "tested" the gel pens in Sussex Stationers by writing my blog address on the doodle pad. I had a training course at the Guardian and write my blog address on a piece of paper, leaving it there. I asked a psychic lady what to do about Innocent Loverboy, although I didn't specify who that was. "Yes", "No" and "The Libido" came up - she told me to make my own decisions. So I did.
I remember the first CCK Social I went to - the first public meeting I could go to with the statement that I am indeed ILB and happy to be so. (The CCK party doesn't count - I was a wallflower.) I remember getting business cards made on the suggestion of Katie and feeling unnerved about it, but still excited. I was cementing my already-grounded identity.
Occasionally I catch flashes back to those years ago. This evening I remembered writing my blog address on the doodle pad. I have to wonder if anyone found it. If they read it. If they're reading now. But I didn't intend anyone to find it... I was just testing the water, padding without expecting a bite. But I felt gleeful. Delighted, even, at my own daring (or what I saw as daring, back in those days).
You are reading the words of a person who still finds ways to recapture that glee... even if it takes a memory to do so.