a year in the life.

Some people start blogging because they're designers and need a place to post their findings.

Others blog because they're moms looking for community.

Most blog because they're crafty, or frugal, or fashionable.

I started blogging because I love to write.

And if I couldn't write for a newspaper or a magazine, then I'd just blog.

And over the months, I've morphed. I started off blogging with purpose.

First, to keep in touch with these girls.

Then, to hold myself accountable.

But over the months, my purpose deteriorated.

And I began blogging just for me.

Whatever I wanted to talk about, whenever I wanted to talk about it.

I've treated this blog like a journal, a close friend.

Being careful of too many details but still sharing my life.

And I'm glad.

I'm glad I have this year written down somewhere.

Because it's been a big one.

My first real job.

Engagement.

Major life decisions.

Spiritual growth.

Marriage.

Discovering that through life's roller coaster, full of grown-up things and growing pains,

one thing is pretty clear.

I will always be me.

The writer. The student. The friend. The adventurer.

The daughter of the King.

So happy birthday to me. Today, I'm celebrating. Because finally, after years of unfinished short stories and half-full notebooks, I've told a story.

My story.

"In the long run, a people is not known by its statements or statistics,

but by the stories it tells."

--flannery o'connor