I’ve given a lot of thought to whether or not I’m running a successful blog, especially in the last few months. I kind of abandoned it, and felt guilty for letting my readers down. I wasn’t gaining any new followers, my page views were abysmal, and my social networks had become stagnant. Fail whale.
When I first started this, I was purely driven by fame and wealth. I wanted to earn Scrooge McDuck status, making so much money I could swim in it. Eminem would write derogatory things about me in his songs, and I’d become the target of a Republican Tea Party attack. My aptly titled “Tonic” perfume would sell in Sephora stores around the world.
Okay, so that’s a bit of a stretch. Well, except the perfume part because I really do think it’d be cool if people smelled like I do. That mix of desperation, underboob sweat, and awkward sexual tension took me years to perfect, and I just want to share it with the world.
To be honest, I didn’t have a plan for this blog when I first created it. I knew I wanted my own writing space, and to make the few people who stumbled upon my posts laugh. Other than that, I was content to have it become nothing more than an online showcase for my writing.
When I launched Sips of Jen and Tonic, I met another blogger, J, who was also just starting out. There’s a bond that occurs between new bloggers because you’re all still writing for limited (or nonexistent) audiences. Seeing familiar faces in your comment threads is akin to the feeling a captain gets spotting a lighthouse after months at sea.
Although J no longer blogs regularly, she and I have kept in touch. I feel like we may have been sisters in another life, I adore her that much. Last week she sent me something that made me realize this blog has become so much more than some wannabe Theater in the Round. It was an ultrasound picture of her future son.
I may be the father
To say I felt honored was an understatement. It was an extremely intimate moment in her life, and one she wanted to share with me. I may have cried, but if anyone asks, I got something in my eye.
I’ve met so many extraordinary people in the year and a half I’ve been blogging, people who have invited me into their lives. I’ve read about breakups, new loves, weddings, deaths, births, and miscarriages. Some have confessed of their struggles with depression, anxiety, fertility, sexuality, substance abuse, and other personal demons. I’ve also laughed at tales of awkward sexual encounters, dating mishaps, and drunken debauchery.
That intangible stuff was slipping by me the whole time, those moments when people went from being a random blogger to someone I respected to someone I consider my friend. I’ve e-mailed with some, Skyped with others, and a smaller number of friends have my home address. Sure, I could keep a close eye on my page views, follower count, comments, post likes, Facebook fans, Twitter followers, and Klout score, but I’d be missing the point.
This blog is already successful. I’ve managed to turn a one woman dog and pony show into a powerful network of meaningful connections. I’ve been given glimpses into so many people’s lives, and have grown enough as a writer and person to give them a glimpse back into mine. What I now know is that there’s real value to all of the words I write and read these days, and there isn’t a metric around which could measure that.
Sips of Jen and Tonic 
Of course you’re a success; damn the statistics, full steam ahead!
I always look forward to your posts, and am sorry to hear you had a moment of doubt. I think everyone who puts words down for other to read gets that way at times; it’s never fun, and I can’t say I blame you for sharing that. Show me a person with a blog that doesn’t get that way at times, and I’ll say to that person you show me, “My God, it’s Arianna Huffington before me!”
If it helps for the next time you get this way, you did egg me on for that Blogtober stand last year, which means you can claim to be someone’s muse. And if you rather not take the blame for that, hey, that’s cool too…
The big takeaway from this is, no, you’re not wasting your time; thank you for being here.
The Arianna Huffington thing literally made me laugh out loud. I hope to god I’m never like that. A little self-doubt keeps a person’s ego in check.
I am totally dreading November because of the blog challenge. I feel like people might dare me to do it again, and that shit was HARD. Glad to have you there with me.
I love this post Jen and I agree with you wholeheartedly. I too have made quite a few friends since I started blogging just over a year ago, and I consider you to be one of them. 🙂
Yes! I definitely consider you a friend too. You may be the only person whose potty mouth rivals mine.
hehehe…a feat I am proud of. 🙂
I think you just recognized the sweet (not sweat) perfume smell of your blog: your readers. Your words and personality and great haircuts keep me entertained, laughing, happy, and always reading. Keep channeling that David Hasselhoff. You’ve got a great thing going.
The caliber of people who show up here amazes me. I think THAT is actually a metric someone could use to determine success.
out OF my yard
Right on sister! Your blog matters and you have a community around you. The big surprise about WordPress is the friendships that are forged here. I have witnessed that in huge ways over the past week.
I thought I smelled underboob sweat that isn’t mine. You need to get out my yard.
Blog on Jen,
xo maggie
I have an easier time reaching out to blog friends sometimes than I do the ones I know in real life. I think we’re all connected in some strange, cosmic way. Of course, who wouldn’t be connected to someone who basically reads their online diary?
SO MUCH WORD
WORD WORD WORD WORD WORD WORD WORD WORD WORD WORD WORD WORD WORD WORD WORD WORD WORD WORD WORD WORD WORD WORD WORD WORD WORD WORD WORD WORD WORD WORD
You are amazing and so is this post.
Thanks, lady! You’re one of the first people I began reading on WP, and I’m glad we’ve both stuck around.
“there isn’t a metric around which could measure that.”…yet. Maybe one day though!
I’ve decided I will determine when people are successful. It’ll be like The Apprentice, but with more Gary Busey.
More Busey? How about ALL Busey?
ALL THE BUSEY
Jen, you could honestly write on the back of a stamp and I’d read it. When you first shared this blog with me, I was awestruck at your way with words and fell in love with your sense of humour straight away. Since that time you’ve become a very dear friend and I’m not ashamed to say, a confidante too. I trust you implicitly and both mine and Lou’s life would be a whole lot emptier without you. Whatever you choose to do, you will have my unending support. Much love and hugs to you buddy 🙂
When I write my first book, I’m going to put the line, “you could honestly write on the back of a stamp and I’d read it” on the back. I’m too wordy for that, but I like the sentiment.
Even though I didn’t meet you here, I’m glad we’ve followed each other on the internet. Sometimes you meet someone, and you feel your friendship was meant to be. That’s how I feel about us. You (and your amazing wife) are lovely. So lucky to know you.
It’s always a good read, here at the J&T – I always wonder how many people find you with those tags – underboob sweat – I wonder how often someone googles that. Seriously though, you are so right about stats and the like. I enjoy the interaction and the camaraderie that I have with the ones who started with me and stuck around. I never expected that when I started.
The search terms for my blog often involve sex, penis, farts, and justin timberlake’s pubes. I’m not kidding.
I, like you, never expected this level of camaraderie. It’s friendship on a level I’ve never experienced before.
Jen,
I remember a time in my younger life when I wondered how “love” could be described and what it felt like. I came to understand it and recognize it; not with a definition, but by the way it makes me feel.
I think the measure of success is quantified the same way. The way I feel every time you publish a post would indicate a high level of success.
You Rock Jen!
Red
That’s a perfect way of putting it, Red. It’s that moment you can’t totally describe because it just blows your mind in all the right ways. People like you coming to my blog, and like it, speaks volumes to what I’ve built here.
You’re amazing, and I’m so glad you’re a part of this community. Also, please let me know when I can find Tonic in stores. It sounds like my thing.
I’ll rub my boobs on a napkin and send it to you in the mail. That’s how much I like you.
I think it’s successful as fuck. I know we didn’t find each other until later and little breaks happen here and there, but I think based on the connections alone, you are successful as fuck. I just want to say “successful as fuck” a lot.
SUCCESSFUL AS FUCK!!!!! *rips open shirt*
The people part of blogging is by far the best.
And I would definitely buy some Tonic 😉
Bloggy people are THE BEST. No question.
I will always remember the first time someone tipped me off to your blog. C was a few weeks old and I was feeling like shite because I had nothing to laugh about. I blogged about it, and several people recommended that I check our your blog. And I laughed.
You are an integral part of this community, Jen. You are kind of the Weird Al of blogging in that you can take a hiatus for awhile and still be loved by your readers in your absence. Also, you can probably play the accordion. In my mind, at least.
Is that seriously how you found out about my blog? People actually recommended it? See, that’s the kind of stuff I’m talking about. That made me feel chuffed.
Also, I still stand behind the fact that the Weird Al compliment is the best one I’ve ever received.
I couldn’t have said it better myself. It hasn’t been a year for me yet, and while I may never have millions of page views or hundreds of comments on every post, I’ve realized I do this more for me than anyone else, and I’m so grateful I’ve gotten to learn about other people and their writing from doing this. There are people that say my blog makes their day–I mean, how awesome is that? Virtual or not, we have an impact on each other’s lives, and that’s pretty damn cool.
Isn’t that the best? When someone says something is “the best thing they’ve read all day” or something along those lines. It makes me want to call up my high school bullies and say, “SUCK IT, LOSERS!”
Sheesh Jen. Just a perfect article right here! I never really had the urge to keep track of my statistics. I won’t lie that I felt on top of the moon when I got my first steady flow of comments on my blog. I won’t lie again when I say that it was pretty awesome to see all that came out of blogging and what’s still happening, but I’m still not really focusing on the stats. Bad thing? Not sure. It was more what people said that stuck with me and not the amount of comments/views/likes. You’re so right that you can’t measure the feeling when someone said you made a difference in their lives or that you inspired them. Or when you read the peeks from other people’s minds. You simply can’t measure the value hidden in their words and lessons you can learn from it. Strangers who become friends…I certainly can’t measure the happiness you gave me with your support and lovely words. It’s all captured in my little Tonic box. 🙂
Your blog is most definitely one of my favorites. It’s humor packed with wisdom. You can never go wrong with that. Plus you’re one heck of an awesome and lovely lady!
Being sent that ultrasound is just so precious and beautiful.
I agree with that it feels good to be received well, and often. It’s not bad to enjoy riding high on the wave of acceptance. I just think, as someone said above, that it doesn’t tell the whole story.
I’ve told you this before, but you’ve built a wonderful community of people who genuinely want you to succeed. People get excited when you unveil drawings, and speak highly of you and your work. That’s really meaningful, and something that I really admire.
Oh, what fun you’ll have with your future friends who stumble upon your blog by Googling “underboob sweat”! Lol well, crap, that’s actually how I got here.
If only armpit or forehead sweat was as appealing as boob sweat, I’d have MEN FOR DAYS.
I’ve just written a post very si,ilar in thought-line to this, and I couldn’t agree with you more.
Well, except for the perfume thing.
It would be a lot easier (and cheaper) to just buy a cheeseburger and some good tequila instead of Eau d’Guap.
(Personally, I’m glad you keep blogging.)
I am not getting notifications on your blog anymore, WTF? I’ll make sure to correct that.
I bet Eau d’Guap smells like masculinity and premium gasoline.
Thank you so much for this post. I think as bloggers we get caught up in doing things bigger and better than we did the last time, but we overlook the fact that success is measured in the connections we’ve made and the people who’ve touched us (and not necessarily the other way around). Made my day!
It’s hard to see X amount of likes on one post, and Y on another. This is compounded when we really poured ourselves into a post that wasn’t received in the way we thought it would be. I have to remind myself at times to be grateful that people read this blog at all.
That’s cause you’re awesome ~ and we share eyebrow similarities… which is a success IN and OF itself.
My eyebrows just did a sexy little dance for you.
My eyebrows took note.
Reblogged this on The ObamaCrat.Comâ„¢ and commented:
So does this mean you are returning to all us fans you walked away from to enjoy and participate in real life, for? If so, welcome back stranger. Who are you again?
Thanks for the reblog, JB!
My pleasure.
(◉‿◉)
Jen,
You are an incredible writer and person. Really. If you weren’t so far away I’d stalk you just for the scent of underboob sweat alone.
The underboob sweat is more powerful than any pheromone.
Is that what it is?
Hang in there. I’m sure with time you can become the target of a Tea Party Attack. Insult George Washington or something and you’re golden.
I, too, am waiting on my blog check. It’s in the mail, they keep saying.
The only thing I’ve gotten in the mail is a restraining order from David Hasselhoff.
I’m framing this and putting it up on my fridge to remind myself that statistics, while useful, never tell the whole story. Thank you for reminding me of that!
And, you are so right about the connections within the blogging community —- I, too, have received so much support and encouragement from people that I have never met (probably will never meet) — it’s insane! It’s also awesome!
Keep on writing — you may never see any Scrooge McDuck kind of money — other rewards, though? They’re out there waiting for you!
I can’t believe how kind and generous the people I’ve come across on WordPress are. People who are practically strangers, yet are willing to share (and support) your failures and successes. It’s such an awesome thing that I can’t comprehend sometimes.