would never make it to the main feed.
Even when I scheduled posts out planned, I never felt safe. No one called me an A+ her, even though a blank comment is one of the worst things to receive on the Internet. This left me feeling without a platform to speak, which left me looking and feeling defeated.
I’d sit in a cubicle, staring at those blank pages, trying to find solace in them. I’d eat cereal in the mornings and know that the whole world would just make fun of me for not capitalizing an A. I was sick of seeing my name in lights.
But what could I do? It all culminated the night I trained to run the Beast Marathon in Burlingame, California. It was my last victory lap, and I wanted to get it out of the way. At this point, I was so tired of leaving the blog behind and feeling defeated by my situation that what else could I do?
That dream would go through so many rollercoaster rides, but in the end, I reached it. It wasn’t a perfect run. I didn’t get everything done. I would beg to finally write about my marathon experience and my male privilege, but no one would listen. It felt like being completely shut down even though I wrote well every time. It felt like the only way to see what all the fuss was about was for me to try impossible things in hopes of better luck. I figured that my Facebook page was just a resource to spread my message and the further away I got, the better. It is exactly this type of mentality that led me to the point I am now.
I never found my kindred spirits in San Francisco this year. But I did find my island to myself. How lucky am I?