”Many thanks for sending your sample blog text to Päivämies! We would like to invite you to start as a new online blogger.”
I was so happy to read this email from the editor of Päivämies. I humbly accepted my new task.
I had noticed a few weeks earlier that new bloggers were being recruited for Päivämies. When I read the ad, I felt a small jolt inside me. Would I dare to try? I left the paper open on the worktop, wondering if it would call out to me later. Yet, I closed the paper a few days later. No, this was not for me.
But when another week had passed, I began to wonder if I could still find the issue of Päivämies with the recruitment ad. I found it, tore out the ad and posted it on the door of the fridge. I secretly hoped one of the family members would encourage me and say, “Mom, why don’t you start writing a blog?”
None of them said anything. I wonder if they even noticed the ad among all the important notes on the fridge door. Right now, there are two dental appointments, one address of friends, altogether 23 magnets of our 10 kids, one weekly schedule that we have forgotten to fill in, one Mother’s Day card, a couple of drawings, and several unofficial-looking checklists for various purposes.
I thought about the Päivämies blogs I had read. Often, when I had started reading one blog, I just went on reading one after another, because they were all so good. I felt empowered by the blogs of mothers that I could easily identify with. It was eye-opening to read about the world of someone in a different life situation. I also paid attention to the style of writing. Did the writers use standard language or spoken language? Were they factual or playing with fantasy? So many different texts, all of them so interesting. So skillfully written!
The roughly torn ad from the paper was still on the door of the fridge, and I often glanced at it in passing. I would have liked to send in a sample text, but then again I felt I would not be a suitable person to write a blog. I had a draft text ready in my mind, but the threshold to send it was high.
I have been writing all my life, recording my reflections of life on the pages of my diary. My first text was about a doll called Elina. It was a fictive story written in block letters with sentences that curved downward as the story continued. “Elina, just imagine if I were Mary and you were baby Jesus. I would be terribly worried when Herod would try to kill you.” I was processing the emotions aroused by a familiar Bible story through writing. I have continued to do so until today. Call it writing therapy.
Things often settle into a storyline sequence in my mind. So did the miraculous matter that recently happened: I was accepted to study health science, which had been my biggest dream in life. It seemed unbelievable that I could start studying just now when the maternity leave for my tenth child ended. The schedule had been set up by the Heavenly Father, I am sure.
I processed this wonderful matter into a story in the writing therapy chamber of my brain. One day, halfway through completing an assignment on digital health care, I wrote out the story and sent it to the recruiting editor.
And here I am, writing my first blog post. I hope that you, dear reader, can relate to my texts. Maybe you can identify with them, draw peer support from them, or be inspired by them. Most of all, I hope I can bring some joy to your life.
Text: Suvi Myllymäki
Translation: Sirkka-Liisa Leinonen
You will find the original blog post here.