Once, when I was in college and I thought that maybe I wanted to major in history (and then I realized that history majors made NO money and I might be shallow, but I wasn’t putting five years into a degree to make LESS than I was making working at a grocery store) I took history classes to my heart’s content. It remains one of my favorite subjects.
And while I love the major events and people, the thing I love the most is learning about what life was like “back then”. How people lived. How they cooked. How they raised their children. How they ran their homes.
Not to go all feminist on you, but we know how men lived. We know how they worked. We know what they did and how their lives where. It’s documented history. But the wives and daughters of those men aren’t written about so prominently. In fact, the majority of what we do know about their lives come from records the women kept for themselves. In their dairies and journals.
Today, I was thinking about my blog as I climbed into the shower. About why I blog and why I think SO MANY women blog. And I think I found the answer as I stood in the shower and let my day wash over and off of me.
Women, it seems, are hard wired to find ways to tell our story. We realize that our lives in the trenches aren’t going to make the history books. Well, most of our lives aren’t. And there’s just this inclination, maybe in our genes, to write down our story.
One thing I love so much about reading the blogsof others is learning about how they live. It’s just like back in history class when I was getting snippets about lives people lived “back then”. I think it’s amazing that maybe JUST maybe our lives and our families will be the most documented of all time. That there will be a plethora of first hand accounts floating around about what life is like. Right now.
We’re making history. With every single word we write. Isn’t that profound?