Some days, the tired isn’t just tired—it’s the kind where coffee becomes a food group and I debate whether a nap in the car counts as self-care. I’m a mom, I work over 65 hours a week, and I juggle kids, pets, bills, and the thousand invisible tasks that never make it onto a to-do list. And while I talk a lot throughout the day, I don’t always feel heard. My voice gets lost somewhere between “What’s for dinner?” and “Did you sign this permission slip?”
Today, as I bounced from one customer to the next at work, the daily prompt “Why do you blog?” kept running through my head. And honestly, between sneaking cold bites of a DoorDash burger I ordered an hour before, I finally had an answer: I blog because I want to be heard.
But here’s the twist—I don’t necessarily want people I know to hear me. Crazy, right? If I write in a journal, it just sits there. If I wrote openly where family or friends might read it, the fear of being misunderstood would stop me cold. But here, in this little corner of the internet, I can write without that weight. I can let out the messy thoughts—the frustrations, the exhaustion, the little flickers of humor I cling to—without worrying if someone close to me will misread them.
There’s something freeing about writing for strangers. The people who stumble across my words don’t know me, don’t expect anything of me, and yet… maybe they’ll understand me. Maybe another tired mom who reheats her coffee three times and wonders if cereal qualifies as dinner will read this and think, oh, it’s not just me.
That’s why I keep showing up here. Because being heard isn’t always about shouting the loudest or gathering likes and comments. Sometimes it’s about whispering into the noise and knowing your words might land with someone who needed to hear them, too.
This blog is my space to be messy and real. To say I’m tired, to admit I sometimes laugh at the chaos just to keep from crying, to confess that yes, I do dream about a nap-filled getaway cabin with no Wi-Fi. It’s not polished, it’s not perfect—but it’s me.
So why do I blog? Because I want to be seen, even if it’s by people who don’t know my name. Because writing here feels safer than scribbling in a notebook I’ll hide in a drawer. Because in this space, I get to take up a little room in the world, and maybe—just maybe—someone else will feel less alone when they find it.
And if nothing else, it’s cheaper than therapy and pairs well with reheated coffee.
Until then, keep the coffee hot and the chaos (somewhat) managed.
The Overbooked Life 
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