Two Years

Dear Butch,

Two years.  Just over 200 posts.  Three relationships.  Thirty-three wallet chains forced into retirement.  And I am still here.

Fuck. Yeah.

A mere 730 days ago I sat down and created “Dear Butch, Love Femme”.  At the time, I had no idea what I was going to write about.  That same lost feeling still is alive today.  I thought I was going to only offer advice and keep my personal life hidden away.  But, as life twisted and turned I have posted more about me then I had ever imagined.  I have created this odd hybrid blog and I am become one proud mama.

There have been many moments, more then I can count, that I have wanted to give up.  Throw in my sparkly purple stilettos and walk away from it all.  But, I haven’t.  For one reason or another, I have stuck to posting twice a week religiously.  I have built my schedule around my promise of Wednesday and Sunday night writing sessions, often under the influence of exhaustion or stress.  Even making sure I pre-write posts before leaving on vacation or having an uber late night out.  Yes, I am committed.

This small space has been my sounding board for the silly and the serious.  Thank you all who take the time to read, comment, and support.  So let us raise our glasses, or mugs or mason jars or pudding cups, to another successful year of the blog that incited you with the cleavage header and kept you coming back with the witty words.

Love,

Femme

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