I joined Twitter in 2007, but fell in love with it in 2008.  The love affair continued in 2009, but waned in 2010 as what I have since discovered my thyroid decided to give up the ghost.

Coincidentally, Twitter became crowded.  I didn’t find the information I used to when I went to Twitter with a question.  Everyone was pimping something and the conversations that seemed to happen without hierarchy appeared to be lost to me.

I’m back on Twitter and trying to sort through the noise, but it isn’t as cute as I remembered sorta like that boy you had a crush on in high school–the one you imagined aged into a George Clooney only to find at the 25th reunion he went more in the direction of George Costanza.

Still lovable, but not one you want to rip your clothes off.

Oddly, the online community where I have found more conversation this year is Facebook.

You know what…

I started writing this in my head earlier today and now that I put it on “paper” I’m calling bullshit on myself.

I’m responding to a writing prompt that I received through social media, but that doesn’t mean I need to think about a social media community.

And as much as I do believe in online communities and the amazing connections that can bloom from them, I still need for a community to become personal and occasionally exist in my real life for it to have meaning for me.

So where did I discover community this year?  I’m not sure I found any new ones.

I’ve always been someone who liked to be part of a community–someone who almost needed a community to feel valuable.  This year I think I’ve discovered (and I’m not entirely sold on this thought but I still have three more weeks to solidify it) the community in me.  Dare I say I am finding more confidence in myself without a community to reinforce my worth (or make me feel even worse about myself).  This is still a new concept for me, so don’t rush me into buying it completely.

Is this new discovery a factor of turning 40?  Not sure.  I’ve always assumed everyone else was completely well-adjusted and supremely self-confident by the age of 18.  Like I said yesterday, I think I’m a late bloomer.

This is a completely rambling and nonsensical post that probably should have been saved for a private journal, but I won’t because I have nervously admitted to the world that I might actually care more about what I think about myself than what others think.

And if you were my therapist from my 20’s, you’d be blown away.

Today’s post is inspired by #reverb10 and the following prompt.

Community. Where have you discovered community, online or otherwise, in 2010? What community would you like to join, create or more deeply connect with in 2011?

The last thing I made?  A hat!

It wasn’t this hat, but a blue one–and it’s ribbed (yes I’m giggling like a 14 yo).

I used soft worsted cotton in a beautiful jewel-toned blue.  I’m not in love with the way the pattern turned out, but I MADE it!  A hat!  And you could wear it and it wont’ fall apart.

Why am I so proud?  It’s just a hat.

But it’s more than that.  I finished it.

The perfectionist in me begins many projects but is often too afraid to finish them for fear that they won’t turn out to my standards.  So if I don’t finish something, I didn’t fail.

Yes I’m 40 and still battling with this.  Hoping I’m just a late bloomer.

Do I have something I want to create next year.  You bet I do.  I’ve been working on setting up a photography business for about eight months now.  Every new session is an opportunity to be creative and improve my skills.  But there is more, more I need to do to really turn it into a real business.    There are forms to fill out, forms to create, a website to build, products to try.  So often it all seems too overwhelming to accomplish with a full-time job and family and other responsibilities, but I’m pretty sure I’m going to take my logo–once finalized–and blow it up huge to remind myself of my goal.

And of course I want to make more hats.

*And I know that I’m talking about a photography business and posting fuzzy pictures of myself, but I assure you my real photos are much better.  This was a quick self-portrait on my cell phone taken after I finished my first hat.  What?  I was excited!

This post was inspired by the #reverb10 project.  The prompt for today was this.

Make. What was the last thing you made? What materials did you use? Is there something you want to make, but you need to clear some time for it?

I’m only 24 hours into it, but I must admit 40 is pretty darn great.

I spent the last few months anticipating this “big” birthday and used so much energy worrying about what I hadn’t accomplished or what I should have done differently.  What I hadn’t been considering were all of the amazing experiences I’ve had in these last 40 years.

I have been to distant lands.  I have met incredible people.  I have been loved.  For crying out loud, I grew two humans and brought them into this world–and they’re actually growing and thriving along with one more (maybe not always clean, but growing and thriving)!

The secret blessing in facing this milestone has been the perspective that grew out of my reflection.  It’s like it never occurred to me before now that for each negative I was focusing on, there was an opposite positive waiting patiently for my attention.

I have a sneaking suspicion there is an  angel who gave me this understanding for my birthday.  She has been on my mind quite a bit lately because of a story I recently shared.  And is if by coincidence, I received an emotionally overwhelming present from my mother today that included a token she believes that angel would want me to have.

If these are the lessons that come with age, I don’t believe I’ll ever feel old.

I didn’t have any issues with 30.  The jokes came.  I laughed at all the “you’re old” cards that were sent my way.  I had a new job, a new husband, a new place to live and a new son.

Thirty was a breeze.

I thought 40 would be the same way, but I flipped the calendar to March yesterday and HOLY CRAP.  It’s like a truck barreling at me.  I’m taking a hard look at my life.  There is much I should be grateful for.

BUT

I thought I’d be in a different place.  I thought I’d have other accomplishments under my belt.  I thought I would have learned more lessons, been more mature, become less sensitive, more self-assured.

Basically, I thought I’d have my shit together by 40.

I know I’m not supposed to compare myself to other people, but it’s hard not to sometimes.  Honestly though, it’s the comparison I make against who I thought I would be that hurts the most.

Maybe it’s being adopted.  Maybe it was growing up in a family that looked different than most at the time.  Maybe it was the strong feminist influence from my beloved aunt.  Could be a dad that picked up and walked away one day.  Whatever it was (and seriously I’ve had enough counseling to have figured this out by now) I feel like I was supposed to excel at something big–something worthwhile.

I feel like I need to prove that I am worthwhile.

Wow.  Those eleven words were really difficult to write.

Well there it is.  I’m going to be mulling that one over for a bit.

Luckily, I still have 28 more days to sort this out.

The new year may mean the beginning of a new business for me.

I know I can start it. Resources abound for getting it going. I’m pretty sure I can even get a client or two.

What is holding me back is fear of failure, fear of making a bad decision, fear of hitting a wall.

Intellectually, I know it takes hard work and trial and error to become a success. I already live with the regret of roads not taken for these same sorts of fears. The conflict inside is making me feel sea-sick.

I want to move forward. I think it’s a path I’m supposed to explore. I know the fears that are creeping in are the usual ghosts trying to sabotage my progress. I even know how to name them this time, and yet…

When my dog tries to jump on me, I turn around. I deny her attention and she gets the message quickly. Can I turn my back on these voices–the voices telling me I’ll never have the talent, the voices telling me I’ll never be more than a hack?

No way to know unless I try. And THAT? That is scary.