Thirty-first

Dear July,
In the middle of the month, I was talking to a friend about these blogs. I told him it’s been kind of good to remember the positive things that blogging can be – the way it often pushes me outside my comfort zone – but at the same time I had mixed feelings about the strange mania these daily blogs induce in me, so that in every spare second I feel like I should be writing a blog. It was hard to generate a lot of enthusiasm for the project. “I mean they’re for you, aren’t they?” he asked. I dramatically signed and said “I don’t know who they’re for.”
This might be my last batch of these letters, July. For the last three years this project has been a kind of annual opportunity to evaluate the place blogging holds in my life, and the place I want it to hold. Since I started blogging when I was 18, I don’t feel like I’ve ever stopped reevaluating what it is or what it should be. Sometimes thats kind of exhausting.
Some of (I think) the best things I’ve written in the last year have been on this blog. I still want to have a space to hold reflections and memories and musings on friendship. But I don’t think I need to force myself to write the way I used to, with the rigor of a schedule. I think perhaps it’s finally time to abandon my long-running fascination with strange annual blogging projects. I think I need to learn to trust myself – to trust that I can write without the pressure of deadlines (self-imposed or otherwise). 
So maybe this is goodbye, July? We’ll still talk of course, but maybe we won’t talk like this. I think that’s ok. Look after yourself.
Alex x

I posted a blog for every day in July. Letters to July was inspired by Emily Diana Ruth.

Further reading

December – home

I spent the first minutes of 2018 on the beach. I’ve never actually spent New Year