I got over it.

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Yesterday I got very, very upset. I didn’t want to admit it to myself, but yesterday it hit me hard — my friends, people who said they supported me and loved me, abandoned me.

Yes, I am being a drama queen. It’s not that bad. I’m blowing it out of proportions. It’s not even about anything that important (important enough just for me). Let me elaborate.

When I started on Medium, I was followed. I was read by all my friend (all right, all right, I don’t have many of them). They applauded — not that I care about that (what, is that so hard to hold down a button for five seconds? But, whatever.), I just want to be read, bottom line, that’s it.

However, after a few weeks, my friends have stopped reading me. Stopped. Even my sister-in-law, one of my closest friends and someone I knew way before we became related, stopped reading me. My husband still reads me, but he doesn’t have a choice — he is my editor. (He’s fantastic at it, you’re doing a great job, sweets!)

I have gained an audience at Medium, a terrific group of writers. I am proud to follow and support all of them, am happy to be read by them, and touched to tears when they say kind things about my writing. This community has become my writing group, my therapy group and my support group, all in one. My heart swells with happiness when I think how lucky I am to have found Medium.

Still, I feel so hurt that my own family and friends has forsaken me (remember that drama queen comment from before? That was for real.) and yesterday it all came crashing down. I usually don’t have thin skin — very few parts of me are thin, I don’t come from royalty. But yesterday enough became enough. Because I feel that what I do matters, and I work at it, and it is difficult for me. So I have come to a decision.

I have decided to make money from writing at Medium. That’s right, I am going to figure out how to write for members only. Which means that my friends and family will have to shell out a few bucks for the privilege of reading moi. I didn’t want to do that before, feeling that I didn’t want to hold my writing for “ransom,” so to speak. But no more. Now they are going to choose. They can keep on not reading me, that’s fine, that’s going to be their choice, or they can mortgage their house and pay something like $5 a month to Medium. And I get to call myself a professional blogger.

It’s going to take me just a titch to figure out how to do this. I am a Luddite, a technophobe by temperament, and I have loathed computers since 1982. Still, I am sure that with some time, patience, and a little help (a lot of help) from my loving 16-year-old son, I will figure out it.

In the meantime, I hope some of my friends would enjoy the still-free blog (free money-wise, not guilt-wise.)

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Written by

Writer and storyteller, immigrant, wife, mom, knitter, collector of jokes, lover of cheap, sweet wine.

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