I’ve been blogging for more than six years now. After my first son was born, I wanted to document every moment of his life. I wanted to share. I was longing for community. I wanted to be part of a village of moms who supported each other and let each other be vulnerable.

And truthfully, I wanted a place to put everything. To just download what was going on in my brain as well as the pictures I took of my super-adorable kid. In one place. Because I tried to make scrapbooks, which was a time-consuming project with absolutely no end. I tried to keep a journal, and I’d lose it, buy another one, find the first one, then lose the second one. I didn’t keep up with my baby books. Hell, I didn’t even HAVE a baby book for my second son, and I have no idea what happened to the one I half-completed for my first son.

So blogging just seemed like a good way to keep life straight.

Fast forward almost seven years. Tmuffin, my first blog, eventually grew into a local playspace and community center where parents could connect while their kids played. I actually spent so much time in the physical business that I stopped writing altogether.

Part of it was because I couldn’t find the time, but the other part was because I felt like I couldn’t quite hone in on what I wanted to write about.

And while Tmuffin was developing, so was this other idea in the dark reaches of my mind. Tmuffin wasn’t really a place for kids to play. It was a place for moms to escape. What started as a blog that gave me an outlet to escape, to be myself, to do something I loved grew organically into a physical space where other moms could do the same thing. But it was big, it was complex, there was a lot going on. I was losing touch with my family, and even though I was growing connections within the community, I felt pretty disconnected with myself.

But, alas, this was the path I was supposed to travel.

I’m not in this world to make a quick buck. Although it feels like I’m on a journey to create community, there’s this big part of my quest that has to do with creating a sense of individual harmony and empowerment within myself.

And that’s something that I lost for a long time after becoming a mom. I think most mothers do. And if we don’t regain our sense of creativity, of individuality, of meaning, we are forever lost.

So anyway. That’s the short version of how Make Your Perfect began. As I trod my path toward reconnection, I noticed every other mom doing the same thing. Or fighting it because they were so lost they didn’t realize that’s what they needed.

And now Make Your Perfect has been organically growing into something bigger than I can explain, something greater than a quest for internal connection. Every time I want to step in and micromanage its growth, it throws me a curve ball. So instead, I’m cultivating its growth. I’m going to water and feed it. I’m going to sing to it and stroke its leaves. I’m going to plant more seeds. And then I’m going to enjoy the blooms and the fruit that grows out of it.

That’s basically my meandering way to get to the point.

Here’s my point: I want to write again. I want to spill my thoughts into this blog. And I don’t want to worry about whether my headlines are catchy or my content is properly SEO’ed. I just want to sow some seeds and watch them grow.

So in the new year, I’m revamping a little bit. I’ll be writing here. It might not be pretty, and it might not make sense. But I’m going to share my journey with you. This blog will be my journal, and I will come here to escape, to be myself, to do something I love, and to connect. I hope you will too.

It’s a new year, people! Let it all out!!