I was in a really different place when I first stumbled onto Blurty in 2003. A friend pointed it out to me, and I became rather absorbed in talking about things the way I see it.
At the time my job was demanding a whole lot of my time and sanity. My friendships and end of a relationship left me questioning my value. I was gearing up for and terrified of a trip home in the summer of 2003, while contemplating a new job.
In the midst of my uncertainty and lack of confidence I started writing in my own journal on blurty.
One person posted a lot of comments to me during that time. Comments that made me happy, made me smile, made me feel less alone in the world. Reading that person’s writing opened doors to me, and I saw another world through her, and saw a depth of passion, joy and pain that startled me. That person encouraged that in me, and cared for me in a way that was really rewarding because through my writing she picked up on what was important to me, and let me know that I am a good person.
Though writing under many usernames, Elizabeth Hatton helped me, helped make my life a little better, and helped me believe in myself just a little bit more. Reading the comments she wrote me then manage to still inspire me now. She made me feel loved.
I found out today that she passed away in July of this year. I’m trying to wrap my brain around the pain of that absence. There had been a time when she’d withdrawn from writing that I tried to re-establish contact, but she was in an unhappy place and didn’t want to engage in much communication.
People on societal fringes aren’t happy. They have a hard time. I am so sad to see Liz consumed by all the crap she had to deal with because she managed, despite all of it, to make me see wonder in the world and in myself.
I love her and I’ll miss her.