One Hundred Posts Later: Apparently, I Had More to Say

By LONNIE KING

There’s something a little surreal about typing the words “Post #100.”

Not because 100 is some monumental number in the grand scheme of blogging. Honestly, spread over more than a decade, 100 posts doesn’t sound particularly prolific at all.

But here’s the part that surprises me: 88 of those posts have happened within the last 365 days.

That tells the real story. Because what this blog is now is not what it was when I started.

Back When I Thought I Was Supposed to Sound Certain

When I first started writing here years ago, I was still trying very hard to sound like someone who had everything figured out and wanted to ‘share’ my secrets to successful living.

The posts were often vaguely inspirational. Religious-themed. Safe. Careful. The kind of writing that sounded acceptable to the people I thought I still needed approval from.

At the time, I probably would have called much of what I was doing “encouragement.”  In fact, one of the very first posts on this blog was literally titled “Encouragement.”

Looking back now, I think a lot of it was performance.

Not necessarily dishonest performance. I meant well. I think I believed much of what I was writing at the time. But there was still a layer of self-protection built into it. A desire to sound composed. Wise. Certain. Biblically grounded. Spiritually acceptable.

And when I reread that old “Encouragement” post now, I don’t cringe because it was poorly written.

I cringe because the “encouragement” I was offering felt so innocuous. So careful. So unwilling to risk saying anything that might genuinely unsettle, challenge, or expose what was really going on underneath the surface.

It was encouragement designed to be acceptable more than meaningful.

But the problem with maintaining a version of yourself that no longer fully fits eventually becomes exhausting. And somewhere along the way, I burned out on it completely.

The Years I Stopped Writing

There are literal multi-year gaps between some of the older posts on this blog. Not because I ran out of thoughts. Not because life got less complicated. Not because I stopped caring about faith, culture, politics, relationships, music, sports, or the strange emotional weight of being human.

I stopped writing because I thought I had lost my voice.

Or maybe more accurately: I had lost the ability to keep writing in a voice that no longer felt authentic to me.

That’s a very different thing.

At the time, though, it just felt like failure. I genuinely wondered whether I was simply done writing altogether.

And maybe even worse than that, I convinced myself nobody would want to hear what I actually thought if I ever did start writing again.

Especially once my questions became more complicated. Especially once my certainty faded. Especially once I stopped trying to fit neatly into the religious and political boxes I had spent years trying to survive inside.

So I quit — for a long time.

The Reboot

Then something changed.

Not all at once. Not dramatically. But sometime within the last year or so, I started writing again—not because I had answers, but because I finally felt free enough to tell the truth about the questions.

And strangely enough, writing became easier after that.

Not easier emotionally. Some of these posts have cost me relationships, assumptions, comfort, certainty, and probably a few readers along the way.

But easier creatively. Because authenticity is less exhausting than performance.

Once I stopped trying to sound like the version of myself I thought people expected, the words started coming naturally again.

That’s the real reason there are 88 posts in the last year. I didn’t suddenly become more disciplined. I became more honest.

What RRLS Became

This blog started as something very different than what it is now. And honestly, I’m grateful for that. Because if this space had stayed trapped in who I was ten years ago, it probably wouldn’t still exist today.

Instead, RRLS slowly became a place where I could wrestle out loud. A place where I could admit uncertainty. Where I could change my mind. Where I could question things that once felt untouchable.

A place where I could talk about faith without pretending certainty. Politics without pretending purity. Life without pretending everything resolves neatly in the final paragraph. And maybe most importantly, a place where I no longer feel obligated to perform spirituality, wisdom, optimism, or certainty for applause.

That freedom changed everything.

A Small Pledge at Post #100

So maybe Post #100 isn’t really a celebration of consistency. Maybe it’s a celebration of finally writing from a place that feels real.

And with that in mind, here’s my small pledge moving forward: I want to keep learning. Keep growing. Keep questioning. Keep listening. Keep writing honestly, even when honesty feels uncomfortable.

I want to resist the temptation to become performative again just because authenticity occasionally makes people uneasy. I want to leave room for complexity. Room for nuance. Room for changing my mind when growth requires it.

And I want this blog to continue being what it has unexpectedly become: not a platform for certainty, but a record of someone trying, imperfectly, to live truthfully.

Apparently, after all these years, I still had more to say. And for now at least…I’m grateful to have found my voice again.

Grace and grit to you! —LK