I have been blogging for nine whole years.
Wait. Before you go search for my first few posts, just… please don’t. It was basically purple text and photos of a newlywed Lance and Cynthia at IHOP on a Saturday morning. It took years of Wordless Wednesdays to realize that I actually preferred the words. It took looking back to my saddle shoe years to remember. To remember being seven and happy with a pencil and paper.
If you’ve been here for awhile– (Hey, familiar you. I’m always so happy you’re here,) Then you know things look just a little bit different today. It’s the same Me but a few things have changed. Even though I’ve been here almost a decade (whoa.) the HappyGoStuckey is only about three years old. And for most of those three years I have tried to answer one main question. The question that has given me sweaty palms and instant nausea each and every time I hear it– So, what do you write about?
Well. After much growth and striking out and returning and most of all, listening– I know.
This online space is the same as if you visit me on my front porch with the white lights, in my kitchen with the creaky floors, or curl up on my well-broken in couch. I hope it will be the place where you can exhale and know that you are wanted. I want you to leave refreshed and filled and with your arms full of leftovers.
Let us always cultivate togetherness. May we remind each other of our true identity when our vision becomes blurred by all that stands in front of us. I hope that we will inspire each other to come together more often and more authentically– in all of our spaces and in all of our relationships.
Community over Competition
For quite awhile I’ve wished I could grow up a little in my brand but I was completely unsure of how to even begin. There are so many elements I could only imagine as different but had no idea how to accomplish them on a budget. Well. My dreams of new clothes for the site have been made a reality with the help and input of several beautiful creatives. My friend Cherie of Waiting On Wildflowers hand-lettered that logo up there– isn’t she so talented? Cherie makes pretty things that rival most of what I’ve seen in my entire life. I smile each time I see her art up there. Then there is my long-time friend Casey who patiently worked with me through nearly every element until I identified exactly what steps to take. She has the rare talent of being able to see things in her friends that they may not even see themselves. Her gift of clarity made all the difference as I came to her with my I don’t know’s countless times.
Dear Casey (her instagram feed is divine!) even helped me select a color pallet that was right in my own backyard– a pink camellia bush with its rough looking blooms and gorgeous green leaves- exactly my style. Throw in the shade of a perfect Iced Coffee with a splash of cream and you have the dreamy color scheme I was hoping for. I’m incredibly grateful that this new design is one of collaboration and community. Tethering togetherness, right there!
What we can make together is more beautiful than what we can build alone.
I could not be more excited about the next nine years around this table. I invite you to pull up a chair by signing up to receive each and every post (only the good stuff!) in your email box.
Love,
Cynthia
Many years later I fought hot tears in my sun-drenched kitchen and took yet another deep breath. I was frustrated beyond belief at my darling and utterly stubborn child. She had disobeyed again…in the same manner, in the same way, and with the same complete disregard for my direction– as the previous three times that hour. I was not getting through to her, and she was not at all aware of the boiling hot anger rising in my chest. I was frustrated with her to be sure, but more than anything I was just so angry at how hard this all was. My indignation at her disobedience was quickly replacing the patience in my heart with ice water. It stung more than just my eyes to be ignored again. As she turned and walked toward the steps to return to her room for nap time, I sighed deep and listened to my own heart.
