Shortly after jet-setting to London, Berlin, and Italy one of my favorite bloggers Bereolaesque wrote about another journey he took which started two years and two months ago; his journey to success. One part of the article that stuck out read, “A funny thing about success is that when you’re struggling for the dream, you’re relatable, but when you reach the dream your relatability becomes debatable.”
Demetria Lucas of A Belle in Brooklyn wrote something similar for her 32nd birthday post saying, “When I was the girl struggling for the dream, I was relatable. When the dream came true, the hard critics came with it.”
Although new to my list of daily reads, I admire both writers and respect their hustle. I only wish I had heard of them earlier so I could’ve followed their journey from the beginning. For all I know they probably have changed, and I see nothing wrong with that. Because change can mean growth. I can’t remember the last time someone was shunned for growing. For me, they simply went from relatable to inspirational.
About a year ago I saw a trend in my stats. I noticed that the posts I wrote while hot tears were still streaming down my face got the most response. I was happy to know people found solace in knowing they were not alone, but at the same time I was saddened that so many people could relate to such heartbreak. It made me question if the affinity for my blog stemmed from a shared misery. I wondered what the fuck I was going to do if I ever found myself in a happy relationship. Would I lose all my readers? Would the quality of my writing suffer? Would people not relate anymore?
And then it happened. Although short-lived, I was in a relationship that looked like nirvana and tasted like bliss. I blogged about baby’s breath and fairy dust, and guess what? The posts were just as popular as the ones I wrote in fetal position with one hand on the keyboard and the other clutching a box of tissue.
It made me happy to know others were happy, and I found solace in that. Because you don’t want to relate to someone whose been struggling forever. The people who want you to remain stagnant with them aren’t your supporters, they’re your HATERS.
While I’m single, lonely, socially inept, and haven’t went on a date in forever, I don’t want to relate with others this way. Misery doesn’t always love company. I want to hang out with the women happy with themselves, and happily in love. I want to throw up everytime she talks about her significant other, because it lets me know that love is still possible. And if Bereolaesque or A Belle in Brooklyn made it, maybe, JUST MAYBE so can I.
Jay-Z once freestyled, “People look at you strange, say you changed/ Like you worked that hard just to stay the same”. He also said, “Hov on that new shit, niggas like how come?/Niggas want my old shit, buy my old album/Niggas stuck on stupid, I gotta keep it movin/Niggas make the same shit, Me I make The Blueprints.”
Don’t let your fear of success get in the way of your success. Do not stay stagnant to be relatable. Move forward even if it means leaving some behind. They will catch up IF they truly want to. Be inspirational, and motivational. If people can’t appreciate that then they couldn’t have possibly related with you to begin with.
Asides from our love for writing, I don’t have much in common with Bereolaesque or A Belle in Brooklyn. I am nowhere near as popular, and my stats don’t even compare. I can’t afford a trip to Europe without starving for a few months, and I don’t have a book published. They are not relatable, but they are inspirational. And they inspire me to relate to them once again.