BlogHer was lovely. San Diego made my favorite places list in a heartbeat.
(This is the only picture I took on the entire three day trip. The view from our hotel room.)
I read my post-BlogHer posts from the last two years and smiled at how much the same I feel. Amazed. Inspired. Overwhelmed. Insecure. Joyful. Happy I went. Thirty six hundred women (and men, but mostly women). That's a lot of women in one large, vaguely boat-themed mega-complex. A lot of intetions. A lot of reasons for attending. Different goals. Different objectives.
In a crowd that big, the truth is that not everyone is going to like the cake. But worse, not everyone is going like me or seek me out or think that I'm fun or interesting or worth talking to. And that is okay. I go to BlogHer because it challenges my personal boundaries and forces me to see, really see, a small part of the huge world of women making shit happen for themselves and for others. And because I like to write and be surrounded by writers I admire. I go to BlogHer because I have friends there and I love to spend time with them. It's that lofty and that silly.
So yes. I felt inspired. I felt lost. I felt terrified to walk into a room. I felt left out. I felt fulfilled. I felt joyous and tired and silly and fascinating and boring. I felt insecure. I felt confident. It depended on the moment, the group, the crowd. Sometimes, it depended on the person standing next to me or whether someone smiled from across the room.
But I found my joy and my reasons for going, as I have the last two years, in hugs and quick moments and smiles and nods and stolen conversations. In being surrounded by brilliant, motivated women with something to say and a platform from which to say it.
Highlights for me?
Voices of the Year and the Community Keynote. Every year, this takes my breath away, but this year, it about killed me with equal parts astonishing happiness and fear because I had the opportunity to read my post Listen. I did it, though. Stepped onto that stage in front of thousands (!) (I'll never say that again!) and read my own work. That hour and half burns so brightly in my mind. The crowd. The jumbotron. The nerves (not fun). The pinch-myself-to-be-among-them talent of the women who read with me. Pure magic.
Fabulous photography by Kim of Mosey Along.
You can link to all the readers from the transcript of the keynote. Every single one of those thirteen women was amazing, but I will point you to two that I had not read before the keynote. Lori's The Red Underwear and Alexandra's When Someone You Love Has A Blog.
The LISTEN TO YOUR MOTHER Salon. This was a new event this year created under the brilliant direction of Ann Imig, one of my favorite people in the whole world. People had an opportunity to read their work in an open mic forum. I cried. (Damn you Zakary, Kate and Varda.) I laughed until I cried. (Damn you, Joy, Deb and Erin (who read Dead Vagina Walking. Do. not. miss.)) Beautiful.
Epic lunch at JSix Restaurant. HUGE thank you to San Diego Momma and Morgan B. of Little Hen House. Amy of The Bitchin'Wives Club and I about came to a fork duel over heirloom tomatoes soaked in golden balsamic vinegar.
Dinner at La Fiesta. Margaritas and deep conversation with women I love from afar. Perfection. This is really kind of an excuse to link to my adored roommates and might-as-well-be roommates because I squishy, puffy pink heart love them: Renee (@butwhymommy), Issa (@issascrazyworld), Zakary (@zakary), Galit (@Galitbreen), Kate (@bigpieceofcake), Jen (@froglette79), Kim (@moseyalong) and Joy @parentingmyth Christy (@lilwelshrarebit) Chrisy (@CSquaredPlus3) and Megan (@meganterry01).
All photography by Kim of Mosey Along.
I love this picture. No idea what we're talking about, but don't we look like it's the most interesting thing ever?
I go to BlogHer because every year I meet someone like Galit, whose writing I adore, and talk to her for an entire breezy, music playing, lights softly shining walk from a restaurant to the Marriott. And because I said I would tear up if I told her one of my favorite parenting quotes and then I did tear up and she didn't laugh at me.
The other day, Kate and I discussed what it means to disagree in the context of BlogHer. Of course we all love, dislike, feel moved by and feel disappointed by different things. Discussing those differences of opinion honestly without hurt feelings or misunderstanding is hard. Especially - yes, I'll say it - for women.
She wrote something that made me sit up and say, yes, (and hopefully she'll forgive me for reprinting it here).
"If you hear one single thing that grabs hold of your heart, confirms your own ardent beliefs, and makes you want to be a better person...it's a win."
If I weren't completely lazy and overwrought by the very idea, I'd link to all of the astonishing and beautiful women and men I hugged in San Diego. [[Oh.my.god. Fine. I can do twitter handles. @scarymommy @GDRPEmpress @waitinthevan @smacksy @annalefler @thebitchinwife @magpiemusing @countessmo @walktherope @ohjennymae @backpackingdad @headlessmom @wendiaarons @squashedmom @kristenhowerton @sandiegomomma @littlehenhouse @inpursuit_of @redneckmommy @mrlady (WHO LOOKS NOTHING LIKE TANIS, I SWEAR!!) @mrsloulou @alexishinde @ohnoag @edenland @bonstewart @sweetandsalty @bhockeyjesus @neilochka @avitable @looneytunes @debontherocks @bernthis @justanothermom @elainea @jenbshaw @reneejross @missbritt @cecilyk @mommynanibooboo @heatheroftheeo @onecraftyellie @thepanicroom @oldtweener @momofali @honestandtruly @amazinggreis @twentyfour @thatkristen @phdinparenting Now I'm all stressed out that I missed someone.]]
Consider my heart grabbed. It's a win.
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