1 year and 3 days ago I introduced myself to the world as Adriana Ravenlust. I had big plans, big ideas – like I always do. I don’t dream small. I dreamt of being the biggest and the best. I wanted to explore my sexuality, to let you journey with me. I wanted to talk about love more frankly than I have been able to for years. I wanted an identity through anonymity.
And I have achieved some of that. Yet, I cannot help but see how I fallen flat on my face as well. In so many ways I am not where I was. In so many ways, I am still.
I’ve traveled by plane from my home abroad to return to the states where I feel, perhaps even more-so, a stranger. And not even because I spent 2 years living across the world. I went from reviewing items and blogging about it in my spare time to nearly making it a career after saying good bye to my husband as he departed for his second deployment (he returns home in a few “short” weeks). I have spent those months in almost complete isolation, without a single friend to break the silence – except for you, dear reader, commenter, Tweeter, e-mailer. For a while, I felt a connection with a community in a way I had not connected for months, even years. I felt hopeful at the prospects. E-mails and comments and Tweets caused laughter, made it easier to survive the day.
Perhaps most surprising was the way that this blog actually helped to bring my husband and I closer together, maybe even lending a hand to mend a rift,the worrying about which would keep me awake at night.
I could not have expected those changes but even stranger, I could not have predicted what would stay the same.
Despite the fact that I wanted to reinvent myself in some ways, I have only succeeded in being me even more. I have resisted changed, disagreed with policies and argued vehemently over opinions, as I am wont to do. I am sure that I have made more than one enemy.
I have also been unable to prevent or stop feelings from bleeding over into this aspect of my life as well. Most importantly and relative to this blog is my dependence and desire in regards to recognition. While I enjoy reviewing and blogging and Tweeting more than I ever realized I would, I do not enjoy it nearly as much as I could on those days when I get lost in the shuffle. Perhaps it’s simply hard to stand out among the seemingly endless sea of sex toy reviewers. I am no Epiphora, no Sleeping Dreamer.
Maybe I have failed to cement myself as more than a sex toy reviewer as personalities such as Essin’ Em have done; although, I have tried and will likely continue to do so with articles, features and even a bit of erotica. It is entirely possible that no matter how I try, I just do not have what it takes, that I lack the edge to stand out in the crowd. It could be even more likely that in my zeal to be someone else, I forgot to be me and isn’t that, after all, the only absolutely unique thing I have to offer the world?
I probably just expect too much, in this, as I do all else, setting myself up for disappointment. It was folly to set my expectations so high (yet I did, do, will). I find it more appealing commiserate than to congratulate myself on this hallmark. I could be misguided, even in that.
Happy birthday, blog.
I know how you feel, and often wonder if I’d be far more popular if my blog featured more posts about my sexual experiences. But there’s not much you or I can do except be ourselves.
It’s funny because, to me, you would be one of the people who could least empathize. Ah, perception.
Why? I think you think I’m more popular than I actually am.
Perhaps you are more popular than you think you are? 😉 Judging by comments, at least.
Well, even if I am, I don’t think that revokes my ability to empathize.
*even littler fish in the giant pond here*
I get it. My blog gets little traffic unless I post HNT. Those always get comments, but the posts I really care about – the ones about finding a place to belong, identity, etc. – those get mostly ignored.
I’ll never have the zest for sex toys that some of the other great reviewers – yourself included, have. Some days I like writing, some days I don’t. Looking back in my last 7 or 8 months of actively doing this I see patterns of lots to say and then little to say.
So why do I keep mine? Because I like it and because maybe there will be just ONE person who reads something I write will be positively affected by it.
You should do what makes you happy. If blogging makes you happy, then blog. If it doesn’t – don’t. Although I will miss your wit and intelligence on my little corner of the net.
The issue, for me, is that recognition is so much apart of my happiness.
I can understand that. That part bothers me too.
But anyway.. I wasn’t sure if this came off as a goodbye. I wasn’t really sure if I wanted it to be but – for now ,at least – it’s not.
Your blog is actually one of my favorites to read. I suppose I need to comment more and let you know that , Hey I am reading it and that you’re totally awesomesauce.
A year is a very short time to become “popular” in the blogging world. Most folks are blogging for two or three years before they see big numbers and a lot of recognition.
Hell, I’ve been blogging for almost five and I still get very few comments in comparison to the number of visitors.
I think you’re doing just fine. 🙂 I don’t know that any of us really feel we’re getting much recognition. I *do* know that people tend to respond most to personal posts like this one, posts that show a lot of the real you. It’s easier to identify with a real person than an alter ego, even if the real person is anonymously real. (I mean, you don’t need to post your real name and address for folks to feel like you’re a real person)
I think I”m babbling.
What I’m trying to say is even if you don’t feel like it, you’re doing a good job and I, for one, really enjoy reading you. Don’t be so hard on yourself!
Just a few thoughts in reply. In some ways, yes, a year is short but in others, especially as things come and go online, it’s quite long. I am no stranger to blogging. This is one of perhaps 6 I own. Ironically enough, its stats have surpasses any of my other blogs quite quickly (sex sells, no?) Others have been around for the same time or even less and seem to have a disproportionate amount of success and it’s hard not to compare.
The problem is that “just fine” is never enough. I can’t do just fine. Just fine is failure. I don’t know how to not be hard on myself. That is what I do. Unfortunately, it’s what I do even more when I have time on my hands (as I have for most of this year). I am as critical of myself as I am of those products I review. In fact, being critical is a very significant part of my personality and I would say that being me in that way is not what the people want. Yet, what I write and how I write it is exactly what I want to read. you can say people like personal posts, and I see the “advantage” in them but I also many posts that seem to garner more comments but are very similar to mine, too. It’s hard not to wonder if my blog would be more popular, in general, if I threw around bad photography of myself naked. In truth, the critical and sometimes overly objective demeanor is one I carry always. On the other hand, I have just not had occasion to be/feel/do anything otherwise while my husband has been gone. In some ways, life has literally stopped.
Of course, there’s more than a fair share of babbling in those sort-of related thoughts there.