This weekend I went to a huge blogging conference called BlogHer. If you are a blogger, this is a huge event. It is comprised mostly of women bloggers, brands, and parties. BlogHer is kind of amazing because it gives bloggers, who spend the majority of their time in front of the computer, a chance to meet in real life.
For that reason alone, I love it. To meet bloggers I admire and are my friends is just an amazing experience.
However, this year’s conference was packed. In the past, it was crowded but not frenzied. This year, people were sitting on the floor eating lunch because the hall did not accommodate everyone. The water stations were empty. And the sessions were very difficult to get into since they filled up, and people were turned away. I do believe that this contributed to my anxiety attack.
I originally thought the wild pace of the conference was the sole purpose for my anxiety. But with the anxiety came an overwhelming sense of homesickness. I thought maybe it was the lack of water combined with the crazy crowds, but after sifting through my inner turmoil, I think the feelings went a bit deeper than that.
I’m kind of in this in between stage: I’m not a beginner blogger nor have I reached rock star status. And that is totally OK. I am enjoying the journey. My personal blog has created a lot of exciting opportunities for me, and for that I am grateful.
But being all the way in New York and creating this small sliver of a life that has nothing to do with my kids made me feel homesick. Usually, I welcome the break from my duties of a full-time stay-at-home mom. I think this feeling of homesickness came from the fact that I am taking writing, blogging, and social media more seriously, and attending BlogHer solidified that for me.
My family and I are entering a new phase soon; my daughter will be in school full-time as she enters first grade, my son will be beginning preschool, and I will be making more strides with writing, blogging, and social media. This is the way I wanted it and I’ve worked so hard for it.
Change is often bittersweet whether it welcomed or not. I try to take transitions with stride because there are new and exciting things to look forward to in our new phase. But there is a tiny spot of nostalgia that lingers. I am hoping that lots of deep, cleansing breaths will get me through, along with a vat of coffee because I am exhausted from all of this.
Do you ever struggle with transitioning into a new life phase?