Dear Diary,
I came across a blogger I used to follow and read religiously last week. Her name is one that’s etched in my memory because, as a teenager navigating an uninteresting life in Nigeria, I found her blog quite fascinating and fun to read.I guess she never knew I looked up to her as a blogger, but her content was so refreshing. The question is, does she know me? Should I reach out to her and tell her how much of an influence she was on me?
Anyway, back to the matter at hand. I found her blog last week , read it, and was quickly reminded of the slow, sweet moments that defined the early 2010s. When we created content we liked, not content the algorithm wanted. When it wasn’t cool to be a blogger or content creator. When your friends looked at you weirdly for talking to a camera or even taking your own photos. When bloggers genuinely reached out to each other because they liked each other’s stories and content, not because they wanted to collaborate and gain followers from one another.The world felt smaller then. You had your own little corner of the internet and were dedicated to updating it every so often. There was no pressure to be perfect, and the word “aesthetics” wasn’t the talk of the town.
And maybe that’s what I miss the most.
Am I living in the past, or is this a nudge to push forward and focus on what is not only the present but also the future?
What is the present, you wonder? I’ll tell you: Content is endless. There’s a craze for virality, a craze to be the richest, most famous, and most talked about. This has led people to do the most ridiculous things for content. Creators have died trying to become popular, and some have harmed others in the process.
When does it end? I guess never, because now, more than ever, there’s a lot of money to be made. The creator economy is one of the fastest-growing industries, and it can make young people millionaires in an incredibly short time.
It wouldn’t be bad to amass some crazy wealth from content creation. However, the question is: at what cost?
As I write this on a beautiful Monday morning, I feel a kind of joy I’ve genuinely missed. The simple joy of putting thoughts into words. No strategy. No content calendar. No optimisation.
Just writing.
Damie’s Diary, my little corner of the internet where I once bared my heart and shared pieces of myself with a small audience.
I don’t know what the future holds. I don’t know whether blogging will ever feel the way it once did.
But I do know that this morning, it feels good to be here again.
And for now, that’s enough.
xoxo,
Damie