When Life Hands You Hackers

I’m here because my site got hacked. Somewhere in the deep bowels of my old website and blog there lived a parasite, some kind of digital tapeworm working its way through the insides, gobbling up passwords and permissions and shitting out riddles I couldn’t solve. I tried youtube videos and forums and enlisting my husband to help me battle it out for months. Then I realized there was no fixing it. I mourned for about thirty seconds before I realized this was a big fat belated birthday gift in disguise.

I started fromashparsons when I was trying to convince myself and those around me that I really really want to be a writer and, pinkie promise, someday I am gonna pull it off. I tried to write like my idols. I tried to make myself sound more experienced and holy than I actually was. I tried writing a memoir before I knew the proper spelling of the word memoir. After 15 years as a professional photographer trying to claim her right to write, I still felt the need to use as many photographs as possible to supplement my words. I didn’t believe my story was enough. Which really stunk because it’s the only one I’ve got.

Time and experience and countless hours of keeping my pen moving on the paper have provided me with evidence. I am a real writer now because I have, and continue to, put in the hours writing. I have been published and had opportunities to perform some of my stories live. I’ve been accepted into and completed one of the most prestigious writing workshops Yale has to offer. I have begun to put my words out there and have heard the response I always longed for, “I’m so glad I’m not the only one.”

This new site feels like graduating from diapers to big girl panties. Or maybe it’s more like the time I bought my first thong. Sure, at first it was a little weird to have some fabric shoved up my crack all day but now I couldn’t picture life without it. Much like that thong, I hope you stick around and come along for the ride. I hope you read the words here and that they do something for you. I hope they are door-openers. I hope you reach out and let me know where my story fits into yours so I can be reminded that I’m not the only one.

As is the emerging pattern of my life, something messy that I never would have asked for has been transformed into something new. I am determined to take this bloated tapeworm and make beauty out of the excrement.