A manifesto for my personal site
I woke up this morning with pangs of guilt about my last post: should I have shared that post? was it really for my benefit or was it self-indulgent?
However, if this is to be my home on the web, I need to remember what that means to me. I need to give myself permission to treat this space as my own. Self-indulgence is absolutely allowed here.
Therefore my personal site is:
Unapologetically authentic
This site represents me, in all my beautiful mess, and I shouldn’t apologise for that.
After all, if you invite someone into your home - or have an unexpected visitor😬 - you might apologise for the place being a bit of a mess, but you wouldn’t apologise for the books on your shelves or the way you’ve decided to decorate. The home is an extension of self and a space for self-expression.
The litmus test for “should I share this here?” is do I find it interesting, helpful or healing for me? Does it spark joy and light up my soul?
So what if my house is the only pink one in a row of faceless grey?
A process not a product
It’s okay to be a work in progress. I create this site first and foremost for me. While I can put my energies into making it a comfortable place to visit - and I should do my best to make it accessible - it’s not about the end result. Things can be a work in progress and may even be revisited and refined over time. There is value in this.
This site isn’t a museum, it’s an archaeological dig.
Proud to be personal
This is my personal site, not my professional portfolio. That’s by design. It’s healthy to have a space to be myself, while still holding space for how I want to position my career. This site doesn’t have to be both, though they can cross over when I want them to.
I’m not an influencer or a thought leader. Nor do I want to be. I can share my values and my expertise, without the obligation to create a personal brand.
I would describe this site as creative, curious and vulnerable. Professional, authoritative and influential are never words that will be used to describe this site. There are other places for those identities, if I choose to explore them.
I have a life that exists beyond the professional, and my home should reflect that.
My primary publishing platform
I’m embracing the principles of Publish on your Own Site, Syndicate Elsewhere (POSSE). I write here first, and then think about sharing elsewhere. This gives me tremendous freedom to decide where to share my thoughts, but it also means I can choose to share in a variety of places. This site exists as my permanent home on the web. The places I share to can and should change to suit my needs.
I might change jobs, make a different commute, and move to a different area, but my home should still be recognisable as my home.
A conversation starter
I’ve been a passive consumer for too long. The walled gardens of social media companies have led me, blinkered, down paths I don’t get to choose. Not only does this mean I don’t see what’s happening beyond those walls, it also means people don’t notice me passing.
Walking down the street, you might remark to a friend about the beauty of an ornate doorway, or gain inspiration from a neighbour’s colourful garden. Invited in to someone’s home, you might find you have more in common that you realised or be prompted to express yourself in similar, but still unique, ways.
I want the same for this site. This little patch of digital land is where I decide what the web looks like to me. It’s a space to hold a conversation with myself about my interests and inspirations, and a space to respond to what other people share.
My homepage is the welcome mat to my digital home: as much a reassuring sight to me as it is to others.
A space to experiment
I have my own permission to find freedom in self-expression here, whatever form that takes. It might look like the way I build the site or the types of content I share here. This space should be fluid and ever-evolving to suit my interests.
There are many things I don’t know and will only learn by doing. However, there is joy in the making and seeing what happens. It’s okay to try things. The best lessons come from happy accidents.
I might finish painting the entire room and then decide I don’t like the colour. It happens.
Built to survive
As I advance in years, I’m increasingly uncertain about what will happen in my lifetime. However, I want my present to exist into someone else’s future. The way I build this site and the way I use it should be shaped by my present but also considerate of the future. I should assume that this site will exist in decades to come and that there is value in portability and having space to grow.
I might just be able to buy the house that suits me today, but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t consider planning permission for an extension or how easily I can sell up.
Just indie enough
I agree with the principles of the Indie Web - owning my content, my site being my primary online identity, this being my primary publishing platform - and I have the community to thank for reigniting my interest in blogging.
However, it’s up to me just how indie I want to be. I’m keen to learn, experiment and be inspired, but my focus is on crafting my space and my content. Being a member of the indie web community shouldn’t ever be based on what indie web technologies I’m using, where I host my site or how I engage with third party services.
There are inequalities in knowledge, time and finances in every community, and I shouldn’t feel shame if this limits my participation.
A home is still a home, regardless of where it is or what it’s made from.
Photo by Womanizer Toys on Unsplash