Let’s start with a confession: I cheated a bit.
I originally said I would start from scratch. Find a platform, sign in, and just start writing. Clean and simple.
Turns out, that was harder than I thought.
Not because writing is hard (although, yes, that too)—but because choosing where to write became its own full-blown project.
You’d think that in 2025, starting a blog would be as easy as opening a fresh notebook. And in theory, it is. There are a dozen platforms that proudly promise “Just sign in and start writing!” But the moment I clicked around, it was like being caught in a very polite maze of upsells and account creation loops.
The Great Platform Spiral of 2025
I started with WordPress.org, because, well, it’s WordPress—it’s what Serious Bloggers use, right?
Wrong.
Or at least, not wrong, but… complicated.
With WordPress.org, you don’t just start writing. You start hosting. You need a domain, then you need a host for that domain, then you need to install WordPress and configure the blog and tweak all the little things and before you know it—you’ve spent three hours customizing a footer and still haven’t written a single word.
So I moved on to WordPress.com, thinking it might be more my pace. Hosted WordPress. Simple.
I signed in. I clicked around. I tried to figure out where to write and how to make the blog look semi-okay. But something about it felt unintuitive—like trying to write while also assembling IKEA furniture with half the manual.
I even checked out Blogger, for old time’s sake. Nostalgia was strong. But the platform felt like it hadn’t had coffee in a decade. So I moved on.
Then, in classic me-style, I realized I wasn’t writing at all—I was just researching how to write. A rabbit hole, paved with best intentions.
So I pivoted to something that looked like the path of least resistance: Medium.
And to its credit—Medium did what it promised.
I logged in.
I clicked “Write.”
I wrote.
Boom. First blog post, live.
Success? Kind of.
But Then I Started Thinking…
In true “do first, think later” fashion, once the first post was out there, I started asking myself questions.
Is Medium actually the best platform for me?
What about my own domain—wasn’t that already a thing I had?
I remembered I already had a website gathering digital dust. I took a peek. It looked… neglected. The kind of site that might offer you tea and then ghost you halfway through the conversation.
But as I looked at it, something sparked.
What if the update it needs isn’t a new design—but a new purpose?
Maybe this blog is the update.
Maybe it’s not about starting fresh, but picking up the thread from where I left off—and moving forward from there.
The Power of a Small Goal
The fact that you’re reading post #2 means something happened: I kept going.
I won’t call it a habit yet. But it’s something.
And that led me to a question that’s helped me in the past:
What if I set a goal?
Not a grand, sweeping, future-defining kind of goal.
Just a small one. Clear. Concrete. Motivating.
Let’s say:
Write 10 blog posts.
That’s it. Not change the world. Not build a following. Just write 10 posts.
And because goals without time are dreams in disguise, let’s add a deadline:
One month.
8 posts left in the next 30 days. (Technically 9, if we’re including this one—but we’re not, because I’m counting this as #2. My rules.)
I’ve always liked goal-setting. Not because I track everything religiously, but because it gives you quiet direction—like a lighthouse you only notice when you start drifting.
Years ago, I wrote a five-year plan and then completely forgot about it. Five years later, I stumbled upon it and realized—surprisingly—that I had checked off every single goal. Not by force, but by quiet alignment. Writing them down had done something.
And maybe writing down “10 posts in one month” will do something, too.
I Had Other Goals This Year Too (Sort Of)
One of my goals for this year was to document all the creative things I do.
At the time, I imagined that would mean photos, sketchbook pages, unfinished guitar loops. I didn’t plan for “blogging” to sneak into that list.
And yet… here we are.
So maybe this is part of that documentation. Maybe this blog becomes the notebook for my creative process. The place where I capture ideas before they fade, or unpack half-finished projects before they disappear into digital limbo.
Or maybe it’ll turn into something else entirely.
Let’s Talk Numbers (Just for Fun)
This blog is for me. That’s the foundation. I’m not building a brand, a funnel, or a content strategy.
But it’s kind of fun to see how it’s doing, right?
I looked at some old stats from my forgotten website. Apparently, I had:
- 46 visitors per day
- 322 per week
- An average time on site of 42 seconds
Honestly, not bad for a blog that’s been asleep.
So what if we give ourselves a small stretch target?
Goal: Double those numbers after 10 blog posts.
That would mean:
- 92 visitors per day
- 644 per week
- Maybe someone stays for over a minute this time?
It’s not about vanity. It’s just about giving myself another quiet motivator. Something to measure—not my worth, but my momentum.
Why These Kinds of Goals Work for Me
They’re personal. They’re manageable. They’re non-binary—not win or lose, but try and learn.
Most importantly, I can always adjust them.
That’s the beauty of setting goals for something you’re just starting:
- If it’s too ambitious, scale it back.
- If it’s too easy, raise the bar.
- If it’s not working at all, change the system.
It’s just a way to keep moving forward when the final destination isn’t clear yet.
One Post at a Time
Instead of pretending I’ll be consistent forever, I’m treating this blog like a series of iterations.
One post at a time.
One idea at a time.
If it fades, it fades.
But at least I tried. Again.
The hardest part is starting. The second hardest part is continuing.
And this blog, however undefined, however inconsistent, is me continuing.
I don’t know what the next post will be about. It might be about a half-finished creative idea. Or something I’ve learned from work. Or a memory that keeps circling back.
But the goal is set:
10 posts.
1 month.
And a few extra readers, maybe.
Let’s see where it goes.