It happened twice – first when I was eight and then again when I was 14. A teacher told me I could not write. I heard it as I should (better) not write (at all), and I believed it. Until one day in May 2006, I looked at my friend and fellow student‘s computer screen. „What is it?“ I asked. „I’m writing a blog,“ he said. „Writing what?!“

Fast forward 17 years, and here I am still. Writing has become the most constant thing in my life. Also, the one that taught me the most, changed me the most. I can even say – the thing that made me a better person. All because of these first years of blogging – when it wasn’t about how good you are at writing but rather how authentic you are. It wasn’t about likes, hearts, thumbs-ups and the number of followers. It was about genuine dialogue, about being heard.

It’s been quieter now. More lonely, too. It’s not necessarily something bad; it’s just … different. Some part of me knows I won’t be able to cope with all of the talks anyway, but another misses them. Those conversations felt very intimate in a good, human way, and I still have dear friendships that started back then. Blog to blog, post to post, comment to comment.

But it’s your birthday now, so enough about me and my WordPress never-ending love story. (It might be just the end of the year making me feel nostalgic and … old :)) I can’t say much about the future of OSS or AI, so I will stick to the basics – I wish you sound sleep, good friends, and creative projects to keep you excited. Or, as Freud has said it once – to love and to work. It’s the shortest definition of happiness I know.

And thank you for the Word(s)/press.
It did make a difference in my life.

P.S. Day one is great, too!
P.S. 2. I’ve referred a dozen colleagues in HR & Marketing to the Automattic career page as an example of simplicity at its best. Nothing to add, nothing to take away. Just as how I have always felt in here.

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Този пост е (в) отговор на поканата на Matt Mullenweg, WordPress CEO and co-founder.