Why I Blog

Sometimes I think blogging is silly and a little narcissistic. Why would people want to know my thoughts or experiences? Maybe I shouldn't waste the time or space on the World Wide Web.

But then the Facebook On This Day app shows me a blog I wrote 2 or 3 or 4 years ago. 

(It doesn't show much from a year ago because I wasn't blogging. Because I didn't have much positive or thoughtful to say at the time or energy to sit and write)

The blogs that pop up remind me of things. Of places I've traveled. Of feelings I've felt. Of thoughts I've dwelt on and worked through. Of the many wonderful and adventurous and everyday experiences I've had.

Most recently they remind me that the feelings of late are feelings I've had before.

When there was a major relational shift because the single girls dear to me have gotten married and are now wives and I am still here hoping to someday have that for myself. And while being exceedingly happy for them, knowing it's never going to be the same as when we were roommates and valentine dates. (ref: Seasonal Shifts)

Lindsey (beloved roommate of 2012-13), Ashley (longest lasting adult friendship I have),
and Aly (my go to dancing and dinner gal)

The ones about job shifts and leaving and changing and looking. And though I love my job now, being reminded it's still not the thing in life that will fulfill. (ref: Commitment, Transitions and Satisfaction; Already, but Not Yet)

And the travels and adventures. The longing to do more and see more. But remembering I have done lots and have seen lots. (ref: We Went to the UK: Edinburgh; Why Israel?; To Maine and Back in a Day; I think I'll go to Boston; Up, Up and Away)

Edinburgh, Scotland; Jerusalem, Israel; Portland, Maine; Boston, Massachusetts;Eleuthera, Bahamas

I blog to remember.

To know on the days I'm questioning and longing and occasionally sinking that I have hope and experiences and memories that are worth having and never worth trading.

On days I wake up and I'm 32 and realize I have not put much (or any) intentionality into finding a forever companion and wonder, am I too late, have I missed my chance? It reminds me I was taking other chances, I was making my own way. I was (and am) growing and becoming a better version of myself. And can still hope that, just maybe, my forever travel buddy and adventure friend and struggle through things with person is out there somewhere adventuring and becoming a better version too.

And sometimes I write in hopes of encouraging and inspiring. Hoping someone might read and feel not as alone or have a laugh at my silly meanderings or that they can take a risk like flying to the UK with someone they have only met twice!

To remember, to not forget, to encourage, to hope.

That's why I blog.

And, really, I blog because my mom and Aunt Kris encouraged and asked me to : )

Why the H?

Recently, a new friend asked why I capitalize the H at the end of my name and not the beginning.

To which I responded with thanks for noticing, an explanation and moved him into the category of people I like more than others because he noticed and cared to know why. (If you have asked or noticed or taken to writing my name that way as well, know that you are in that group too!)

But really, why do you write your name that way, you ask?

Art by London as a birthday gift years ago before she was an almost 13 year old.

Honestly, I don't completely remember when it started or why. Like an old family nickname or something, it just is now. The was and how are a little hazy.

One friend inspired the shortening of it to a signature of just hH, somewhere along the way.

But I think it mostly comes from being left handed, a little bit (ok, a lot) sassy and some quirky mixed with creativity.

I am left handed. I do things backwards. When I was learning to contra dance I always twirled the wrong direction (and still do sometimes). We [the left handed society] tie our shoes backwards and push rather than pull pens across paper. I think differently than other people often and I believe this partially comes from being left handed, a slightly tilted perspective on the world. So if doing things backwards is my lot, why not write my name backwards?

Sassy, sarcastic, quick witted, etc. might also be words that describe me, but of course in the kindest and most uplifting kind way to be sassy and sarcastic. People ask me regularly if I know that my name can be spelled the same backwards and forwards. They don't state it as a neat fact like "hey, your name is spelled the same backwards and forwards, that's neat" they ask "did you know your name..." and I do appreciate them noticing. However, this has been my name my whole life. So yes, clearly, I know (and like) that my name is a palindrome and I notice other palindromic things as well. Some favorites are 'madam I'm Adam' and race-car. So perhaps I spell my name that way a little out of sass in response to a question I have oft been asked.

Quirky, creative, weird...however you want to label it. I have always been a misfit, fitting in enough to get by but never entirely, maybe not at all at times. At an early age I learned that I wasn't quite like the others. In order to live a life not of frustration and trying to hard, I owned my quirk, flew my freak flag if you will (ref: the Family Stone). I became ok with being a little outside the circle and often not fitting in.  So writing my name in a way that is unique of the other Hannahs out there seemed to be a good idea at the time (I guess, like I said, I don't remember when this started).

So why do I write my name backwards? I think all the above are true...

but mostly,

I like to write it that way and it seems other people like it too : )