Letting Go Of My Old Blog
I was the Minimal Millennial.
The first blog that I ever kept up with made a bold claim: that I, as a Millennial, was rejecting earthly possessions in order to lead a happier, more fulfilling life. Wow/Amazing/She’s So Brave/How Holy/Truly Inspiring
I really was going through something—I loved following the likes of Courtney Carver, Joshua Becker, and The Minimalists.
I sought less and less, but didn’t fill the space with anything of note—just more self-critique and self-imposed rules. Minimalism, for me, became a weaponized monasticism, where joyful things were frivolities, and self care rituals were unnecessary indulgences.
I’ve written about this so many times before, like here and here. I have plenty of complicated feelings around minimalism, and around the process that I was going through while I was writing that blog. (Turns out minimalism doesn’t cure depression or loneliness and it doesn’t bring back your rabbit that you lost quite unexpectedly). I did learn so many positive things, and fell more in love with blogging and writing, but still. If you ever need to borrow a cup of bitter sugar, I’m the neighbor who will happily share.
Seriously, though, I do need to calm down about it all.
Anyway, this is about me unchecking “auto-renew” on my domain name.
We’ve been watching our budget carefully lately, and when the auto-renew notice came up for Minimal Millennial this year, I had a real moment.
Do I pay the $26 and delay the inevitable? Is it inevitable? I should just pay it and keep the domain name, right? It’s a good one. Keep it. Keep it, wench.
But then I realized that, in the spirit of how minimalism still shows up in my life, that I have no need for the domain name anymore. I don’t have need for the blog, even. It’s an archive of where I was during those years, and nothing more. I am not going back to that domain name.
Also because I’m tired of proactively labeling myself as a “Millennial”—just let me be a person who’s making terrible life decisions like the rest of the generations are.
So tell me how that makes you feel.
Well, since you asked. I did do that thing where you sit and stare at a screen for a while, take a deep breath, let the drama build, then make that fateful click. Like submitting a final project or sending a career-altering email. And then came the emails from Wordpress—the are you sure? emails, the fix this before it’s too late emails.
And I do have to keep reminding myself it’s for the best. But there is a place of my heart that will bruise, ever so slightly, when I see that domain name no longer houses my stuff. And when that day comes, I’ll give myself a warm embrace and gently tell the creature that is my sweet self:
GET OVER IT.