Tonight I can't stop crying. I'm crying because I read about four pages of a blog whose author I read regularly, but on a blog I didn't even know she had. Her other blog (the one I knew about) was about her profession, and I always read it thinking about what a great life she has. I was intrigued by her lifestyle because she lives and works in NYC, something I'm sort of on the fringes of, but still just dipping my toes in the water, nowhere near in it for real. I read this girl's blog because she's a real cutie, has tons of style, and she's a great writer. I read her for hairspiration. I read her because I pretty much want to be her.

You know how you start to follow a blog and feel like you know the person writing? You think you're really in on their life and what goes on. This particular author wrote with so much personality that I sometimes felt like we were good buds. Tonight on instagram I noticed she posted a picture that elicited sad comments. Of course, I was curious. My interest was piqued, so I did the most logical creepy thing one can do. I googled her.

And I found another blog! Her personal blog. I had been missing out on so much. And as much as I enjoy her hairdos, what you really want from a blogger you love is to know about them, right? So tonight I got more than I bargained for. I read her blog and it seems as though she's going through a really hard time. It seems as though she's lonely. It seems as though she has a nearly 5 year old daughter who has never lived at home because she was born with an incredibly rare condition. It seems as though--if I'm being blunt--her life doesn't actually seem all that great and maybe I don't want it after all.

But my heart was just breaking over and over as I looked at the pictures of her precious, tiny, fragile daughter. The author is young, not too much older than me, her daughter not too much older than my own nieces. And she lives 20 miles down river, and we work in the same city. We've been on the A train together sometime for all I know. And I don't know all of what she's going through right now or what kind of hell she's been through in the past, but because of her blog I know a little. And I care. And we're that much connected.

Recently I've struggled with my blog (as in, I haven't so much as clicked on its button in my bookmarks in almost two months) and why I have it. I think it's a lot for validation--it feels great when I do or make something you guys like, and you comment and tell me so and that you think I'm cool. Maybe, like I did with Reagan, you even want to BE me sometimes (a crazy, far-fetched, self-aggrandizing thought--but I'm sure Reagan would think it impossible, too). Yes, the validation is nice. But I wonder if I don't also blog for the connection to be found through it. By nature I am a people person. I feel the pain of others and render Luke speechless on a regular basis when he finds tears pouring down my face as I read a sad story on some blog, when I was completely fine a minute prior.

I like the thought of you and I being connected through my blog. And I'm reminded how honestly I can portray myself on my blog if I choose to, like Reagan. If my point is to let you connect with me a little bit, I want you to connect with the real me. I've talked about this before on here, just a bit. But I lost it for a little while, struggling to remember why I have write in NH in the first place. Although I'm not certain that I am back for good, tonight I'm thankful for Reagan and the reminder of why blogging can be so wonderful--it brings us together if only a little. Reagan, Luke and I prayed for you tonight. I hope that you can feel some of the peace that probably feels so impossibly distant. I hope you feel comforted.

I'm tired and don't even know if this makes sense anymore, but if you want to keep bearing with me, do so please. I like seeing you guys around this blog!





Reagan's hair blog:

Reagan's personal blog: