Category: Inspiring

Blog Talk: Interview with Sally Whittle

Sally Whittle Interview, Arkansas Women Bloggers, Mauritius

A Few Fun Photos From Mauritius: TL- Sally and Flea, TR- Beach Sunrise, BL- Sally and Flea Para-Sailing, BR-Our kiddos jumping in the pool

by Alison Chino
Y’all! Remember how I said that every once in a while you get to do something amazing as a result of being a blogger. Well, last month I got to travel all the way to Mauritius, a place I did not even know existed a year ago. I got to share this experience with another blogger in England name Sally Whittle. Sally runs the largest network of bloggers in the United Kingdom, with at least 10000 bloggers registered and she speaks regularly to bloggers at conferences.

So while we were lounging around by the pool and watching our kids play on the beach, I asked Sally if she would be willing to share her story and expertise with Arkansas Women Bloggers and she kindly obliged.

Interview with Sally of Tots 100

Hi Sally, Can you tell us in a few words about yourself and the business for bloggers that you run in the UK?

I am a journalist by trade and had been writing about the Internet and social media for more than a decade when my daughter was born. I’d always blogged about the media and PR, but increasingly found I wanted to use social media to capture our family story – the little everyday moments that otherwise get lost. So I started my own blog at whosthemummy.co.uk. Soon after, I found that there were dozens, maybe hundreds of other people writing parenting and family blogs just like mine – but there was no one place where you could find them all. In the mainstream media, there are lots of media databases, and I used that knowledge, with a few of my IT connections, to come up with Tots100 – a directory of parenting blogs that would provide one place to find lots of parent blogs, and which would provide some independent metrics about blogs in the same way media databases provided circulation figures for newspapers and magazines. At the time, nobody was doing that in the UK, and the business grew very quickly. Over time we’ve added new services, and launched two other directories – one of food blogs, and one for homes and interior blogs.

In the forever evolving world of blogging, what advice would you give to bloggers who are just starting out? And to veteran bloggers? Or what mistakes do you notice that bloggers are making these days?

Whenever I speak at a conference or in a magazine, I see lots of people giving very technical advice to bloggers, or advice on how to sell sponsored posts on your site. But honestly, I think that’s missing the point. For new bloggers I advise them to blog what they enjoy. Blog something you’re passionate about, blog with feeling, enjoy what you do – and ignore everything else. Don’t feel you HAVE to use this platform, or use THAT camera or whatever – have fun, write from the heart and then even if your blog doesn’t become an all-singing, all-earning multimedia platform you’ll still be doing something worthwhile that you feel proud of. But the irony of blogging is that this is the best way to grow an audience, and that audience, combined with authentic content, is the best platform if you DO then want to partner with brands.

As for mistakes, I think providing someone is enjoying their blog, I wouldn’t assume to tell them what to do differently. Some bloggers write to be creative, some to add money to the family finances, some to build a professional reputation – if there’s a mistake to be made, it’s thinking there’s one sort of blog, or one right way to do things. I get so frustrated by the whole idea that, “If you’re not doing it the way I do it, you’re doing it wrong”.

Your company offers opportunities for bloggers to work with some amazing brands! What advice do you have for bloggers about working with brands?

Two pieces of advice. First, remember that people do business with people. We’re all busy and occasionally have bad days, but I know that when I sit down at my desk to recruit blogs for a campaign, alongside stats and influence, I’m looking for people who are reliable, flexible and good fun to work with. If you work with a brand and deliver the content on time, with great photos, and you’re positive and friendly to chat to – then word of mouth ensures you’ll get more opportunities. Second – don’t be afraid to put yourself out there. I don’t mean bombarding brands with Tweets asking for free stuff, but by ensuring your blog is listed in directories, that your Twitter feed carries your blog link, that you have a nice contact form on your site, and a PR policy that explains what you’re interested in.

What’s your favorite social media channel? Why?

Probably Twitter – I think it provides those few minutes of chat at certain points of the day that I used to get from being in an office, and I now get on Twitter. I love that the 140 character limit can really highlight people’s humor and wit – on a good day – and lots of the people I follow on Twitter are just ridiculously smart and funny and interesting. What’s not to love? I like Instagram to a point, but I get frustrated easily by my own ineptitude with a camera, and Facebook can sometimes feel a bit too much like looking at the Martha Stewart version of my friends’ lives. And I’m about as far from Martha as you can get, so I get a bit depressed about all the crafting, cooking and general outdoorsiness that everyone else seems to do with their kids.

What are some of the benefits you’ve experienced from blogging? Or what do you love about blogging?

Blogging started as my hobby and it’s now my job, so that’s pretty amazing. I earn a decent living, and my job is flexible enough that I can spend lots of time with my daughter so I’m very blessed in that regard. And of course blogging means we get sent a lot of stuff – although that does get old pretty quickly, believe me! I now don’t really do many product reviews (there’s only so much stuff you can fit into a Victorian terraced house, in my experience) but we love the opportunity to travel, to try new experiences and meet new people. We’ve ridden rollercoasters and met famous chefs. We’ve gone to previews of new films, stayed in amazing hotels and traveled to fantastic places. For me that’s the benefit of my personal blog – the experiences it’s allowed us to have. But even without all of that, I love to write, I love to share stories, and I love to capture memories. I love that those conversations I had with Flea when she was two and three years old are always there for us to look back on – because I know if I didn’t blog, I’d have long forgotten that Flea used to imagine that puppies were lurking round every corner waiting to steal our biscuits, or that she used to pretend to be a dog when we visited the doctor. That stuff’s so precious.

Thank you so much Sally, for sharing with us! You can connect with Sally on Twitter and read stories about life with her sweet daughter on her blog, Who’s The Mummy.

Living Beyond Storms

by Keisha Pittman

I’m one 1 in 14 million.

My mom always told me I was special and I did ride a short bus to school (but our school was small) I’m a GenXer and owned a shirt that said “I’m a winner” (I even wore it on school picture day). So I have a natural complex, but it’s true.I am 1 in 14 million – cancer survivors. And a part of the 20% decline in cancer mortality rate since 1991.

The short version goes something like this:

my neck swelled up during a play
so I went to my doctor the next day
I told him I didn’t have time
but the diagnosis put a lot on my mind

a few connections got me in to see
the best doctor at LR Hematology and Oncology
chemo and radiation were my friend (not)
and after 6 months I was back on the mend

I lost my hair
didn’t really care
lost my voice
and started making noise

Remission was the word I heard him say
and 6 years later, I’m still clear today

That’s my rain storm.

It was full of “hail” and lightening; strong winds and torrential down pours (aka – my new emotional gushes).
But, a storm is only as bad as you call it and allow its path to leave destruction.

It wasn’t until it was all over that I decided I wanted to wallow. I wanted the label, I wanted to
be recognized and respected for what I had “gone through”. I was trying to live like a warrior; a victorious warrior. But, I was being a cry baby and rather selfish.

Hopefully I’m not the only one who has Braveheart, The Patriot and Remember the Titans in my top 10 movies (yes, the rest are chick flicks…you have me pegged appropriately). But what I love about these 3 movies are the “game day” speeches as the turning point in the movie. All of them take place at dark, stormy, foggy moment. I lived most of 2009 in a fog. Call it remnants from “chemo brain”, but I’m more convinced that it was my own little pity party. I was too worried about the scars from the past to look forward and live beyond my storm.

In an interview on 103.7 The Buzz last week, Bret Bielema (yes I listen to sports radio while I drive) made 2 strong comments and, to me, neither is really about football –“history is something that has already happened. It’s great to read about, some people write about it and a lot of reporters talk about it. But, the people who live their dreams live in the present and try to concentrate on today and look forward and scars are a great reminder, they are markings of things that have happened in the past”.

I have a big scar on my chest. It’s a marking that cancer left beyond, but it’s also something I don’t even notice is there any more.

Until someone sees it for the first time or makes a comment about it, I forget it’s even there. It’s a part of who I am now. It’s part of my past, but it’s the perpetuator to how I move forward.

Life experiences do not have to be something we live in spite of. We can LIVE FULLY and like a warrior, we can live LIVE BEYOND.

For rainbows to show up after the storm, a little sun always has to shine.

Thanks for letting me hang out with you this month. April, the month of my birth and my cancerversary, always proves to be super busy and intentionally connecting with you each week has been my privilege. Make sure you stop by and see me sometime over at bigpittstop, my landingpad to the life beyond. (or you can chirp at me on Twitter or “see” me on Instagram)

Finding Your Voice After You Have Been Sexually Abused

by Dr. Margaret Rutherford, Nestache.com

I do therapy.

Years ago, a patient came in. A women in her late thirties. Sort of tough-looking. Rugged almost.

As we talked, she told me about her father sexually molesting her multiple times as a child. She was quietly tearful. It happened mostly in his truck. On what were supposed to be father-daughter outings.

In her second appointment, she looked at me somewhat hesitatingly.

“I have something else I need to tell you.”

I nodded. “Okay.”

“He made me do things to my kid brother. In front of him.”

She broke down. She had never told anyone. Couldn’t believe she was telling me. We spent the rest of the session talking about the feelings she had carried around for years. Guilt, humiliation, rage. I reminded her that she had been a child.

She cancelled her next appointment. I called, concerned. “Are you okay? What’s going on?”

“I really feel better.” I answered that that was wonderful, but that we might need another session to talk about what she had told me. Process.

I was wrong. The telling of her story and my reaction of empathy had been enough. She came in, one last time, to tell me just that. “I thought anyone I might tell would judge me. Would think I was horrible. Now I know that’s not true.”

I don’t know if she ever confronted her father. If memory serves, he was no longer alive.

Not everyone is like her. Many need more time to sift through their complex feelings of having been abused. But what I am struck by over and over again is the immense courage it takes to speak. Not just to someone like me. If the abuse is within the family, to speak out there. If it was by a stranger or date rape, to report.

So many do not. I am not judging. In some ways, the choice to tell or not is at least a choice. That was taken away when the molestation or rape occurred.

But what about children? We want them to tell. We want to protect them. There are many reasons they don’t. Fear, loyalty to family, dissociation (actually taking themselves out of the experience mentally). Shame. Confusion.

We also have seen just this week how complicated “telling” can be. Whether you believe Woody Allen or Dylan Farrow, it can come down to, “He said, she said.” At times there is not enough evidence for the prosecution to go forward. Children are occasionally manipulated by scheming, angry parents.

However, children learn most by watching adults do. We have tried as a society to raise children’s awareness of being touched inappropriately. But if we adults continue to not speak out about ourselves being sexually abused, then what are they really learning?

I am not a victim of sexual abuse. I can only imagine, having worked with many, how hard that is. Especially to confront it in a family and live out the effects of the telling. And of course you risk nothing happening. Not being believed. Being ignored. Being blamed. All these things are what people fear.

The telling has to be about you. That you are ready. You have detached from the potential negative reaction that you might get. It’s more important to tell. To find your voice.

You will not be victimized again. By the past or the present.

There can be healing. That’s the good news. It’s hard. If between victim and perpetrator, or anyone who knew of the abuse and did nothing, it takes brutal honesty. A regaining of trust. Sometimes, like for the woman above, it is a solo journey.

But it can be done.

All it takes… is telling.

This post may bring up issues for you that you would like to personally speak about with a therapist. If you need information about that or anything else about this post, you can e-mail Dr. Rutherford at askdrmargaret@NestAche.com. All communication will remain confidential.

Jingle and jazz singer, clinical psychologist, community volunteer, actor, children’s choir director and recent writer/blogger–all of these are passions that have been part of Margaret Rutherford’s life. Add Mom, Wife, Daughter, Sister and Friend to the list, and you understand what is important to her. She coined the term “NestAche” when her only son left for college in fall 2012, and she began writing about her experiences at Nestache.com. Now living in Fayetteville, Arkansas, she continues with her private practice, works in community theater and is learning more and more about the world of blogging! Connect with her on Facebook or Twitter.

Fall Leaves

by Inés McBryde

I recently opened a letter that I mailed to myself last fall. Inside was a dried up leaf that I saved to remind myself of powerful lessons that I didn’t want to forget. But to understand the story behind this leaf, you have to know that growing up in Nicaragua the first 18 years of my life, I never saw a pumpkin outside of an American storybook. I thought trees of different colored leaves were only found in fairy-tales. We have many tropical trees in Nicaragua, but their leaves don’t turn fiery red, burnt orange, or lightning yellow nor do they fall in autumn! We seemed to only have 2 seasons… rainy and non-rainy, and either one is always hot! When I moved to Fort Worth, Texas to attend TCU, I eagerly anticipated snowy winters and those orange leaves that captured my imagination…but the Texans said, “In Texas, if you blink, you miss the Fall.” They also said crazy things like, “If you don’t like the weather here, just wait 15 minutes…” “TRUE.THAT!” I later thought as I shoved the gas pedal all the way down trying to drive away from a tornado hitting downtown Ft.Worth!

Many autumns have passed since that first Texas one. A couple of years ago, I was preparing a talk for a women’s silent prayer retreat. I found myself nestled in the beautiful woods of Chenal Valley inside the inter-faith Arkansas House of Prayer. Alone. Quiet. Searching. I found more than I was looking for. What I learned was a profound lesson, a lesson in the leaves of the trees, a lesson available to all, regardless of our spiritual status, a lesson of hope and growth. The lesson is in the leaves of the trees & available to all.

My heart waited in expectation inside a monastic, silent room at the AHOP on October of 2011. Shoes off. Socks off. Cell phone off & left outside. I started slow, tapering down my breathing, getting quiet enough to hear my heart beating, beating for a word from God, a revelation that there’s still hope for this struggling heart. I thumb through my Bible, slowly, not wanting the pages to turn too loud lest I miss a still small voice. A curiously random question arises in my mind…

Why do leaves fall?

Huh? Wait. What does that have to do with anything? I’m trying to center myself around the holy written words but missing some words hanging on a branch. Again…

Look up, why do leaves fall?

I look out the giant window at the turning leaves. “Well DUH. Leaves fall because… they fall! That’s why it’s called Fall, right?”

Go home & do a search on why leaves fall.

Fast forward to a search at a website called “Science Made Simple.” Because Lord knows I need simple. And the revelation came alright. It came after digging through some scientific mumbo jumbo about the intricate processes between summer & winter, between the tree, the sun, water, roots, food, and leaves. Simple. Yet hard. And I had never paid attention. I was looking down & not looking up at the trees. Not listening to their message. Over and over. Thousands of leaves singing a message.

During the winter there’s not enough light or water to produce food for the trees, so the trees enter a winter rest and live off of the food they have stored up in the summer. The brown color in the leaves that fall is made up from wastes left in the leaves. Leaves fall and when they do… they let go of this unnecessary waste. If they don’t fall, they weigh down the tree inside and out. They stunt the tree’s growth. Therefore there’s no room for new growth come spring around the corner. I sat and looked at this explanation, flabbergasted…all these years living in the USA and nobody told me that:

Trees poop through their leaves when they fall?! *GASP*

Deep sigh. Maybe I’m entering a winter in my soul—a time to rely on my reserves and let go of things weighing me down. Don’t we all go through these times? Don’t we all need to throw off unnecessary weight that keeps us down? Waste that doesn’t belong in our hearts? I make a list in my head of toxic emotions, worry that paralyzes me, fears that consume me, shame that tags along. Haven’t we all had to cut-off co-dependent relationships that spiral us down? (Please tell me it wasn’t just me)

So next time you get a chance this Fall as it falls upon us, step outside & under a tree that’s losing its leaves. Look up. Breathe slowly. Slow down. Search inside you. Behold the fallen leaves. Behold those soft gusts of wind that clip the brown leaves from the branch. Watch that leaf tumble around and fall. My toddler son loves watching this. The process is beautiful. Some things…some people…just have GOT to go if we are going to move forward in life. In the wise words of one unnamed brotha’ “I think I’ve been *constipated* for a long time”. Sister-friend: release those leaves in your life! Release and make room for things & people that build you up. We are all designed to grow & bloom.

I mailed myself a letter last year to arrive this Fall, with that wrinkled up fall leaf that fell onto my lap when I opened it. Today, I’m living off of last year’s truth that was stored up in the mail.

Con amor (with love),
Inés

P.S. Sorry to all who thought this was going to be a post about Pumpkin recipes. I’ve never done that in my life, but I have a pretty good Black Bean soup that’ll make you wanna slap your mama.

Don’t let the Irish-married-last name fool you. I was born in Spain, but grew up in Nicaragua eating beans & rice. I married a pale-white blonde guy from El Doray-do. We have a toddler who keeps us laughing in stitches. I work with immigrants at the local children’s hospital. I dance to salsa music. I travel. I hate injustice. I dream in Spanish.

Check out her blog, InesMcBryde.com