It's my 6th birthday!

Well, it's @honeydue's 6th birthday, anyway. Am I her? It's a question I've pondered quite a bit down the years I've spent on this platform. How much of myself has gone on here? Surprisingly much, actually. I find I'm more honest here than I am in most of the other places where I'm active online. Six years does create a good deal of comfort, and sure, when you've known people for years, and some even in real life, you find a certain ease. But Hive also has a different vibe. I feel much more confident being real here than I would on other platforms. Very very rarely have I been misunderstood, or gotten into an argument over one of my opinions on Hive. So it's certainly interesting to me how much more understanding people are on here.

How they're more willing to listen, and to believe you've got something worthwhile to say. Not everyone out there is like that.

How it started...

I was vaguely aware @ladyrebecca was writing online somewhere, and while curious and supportive, didn't really think much of it at the time. 2017, this was, and I was off being an 18-year-old who knew all there was to know about life.

(Hey, this also means that, although she didn't say nothing about it, it was also @ladyrebecca's anniversary fairly recently! So happy Hiveversary, Mom!)

And then, eventually, she asked me if I'd like to sign up. I don't remember how she presented it to me -- it's always a bit sticky, explaining the whole crypto thing, isn't it? -- but I do remember being intrigued. At 18, the chance to earn your own money for something you love doing (or, at that stage, have a vague idea you might love doing) was pretty wild.

So I hopped onboard and said hi to you all. Some people, like @ericvancewalton, @winstonalden, and @kenny-crane I remember from the very early days, when I was a minnow, and still figuring what's what. Others, like @millycf1976, @riverflows, @nickydee, @jhymi, and so many others, I've met in more recent months/years. That's one thing I love about this place, that it's not a "we became chummy three years ago, and I still only hang out with you today". You're always meeting new people, or seeing exciting writers, or finding people across the world who share an idea or an interest with you. It's exciting af.

Then, there was the first @curie vote. Who doesn't remember theirs, you know? It was on a post about wanderlust, the old travel bug, and how great it is to be on the road and feel alive. I re-read it just now (the draft, I'm too lazy to scroll back the years), and it brought back memories of the trips I was taking at 18. I found in it a collection of things I'd brought with me from different trips across the continent, a habit I still observe with great fondness.

I know everyone says it, but it was never the money. Sure, it was badass to see those big Curie numbers on stuff you'd written, and think someone actually cared about what you had to say. But that was really it, you know? The money was nice. I think I financed a trip from my Steemit income when the prices went way up in 2018(?). That was badass. And now, I love knowing I've got some crypto squirrelled away, if things go pear-shaped. But in the end? It was the feeling, all the way.

Of all I've learned off Steemit/Hive, money was the least interesting bit.

How it's going...

If it wasn't for @mariannewest and her freewriting community, I may have never been a writer. When I joined, I'd written maybe one or three good-ish short stories, and that was it. Somehow, the five minute freewrite managed to get me writing, and out of my head. I could do it for five minutes without becoming jaded. And little by little, five minutes became ten, 'cause I was never good at observing rules,and always got too invested into the story to cut it short.

Ten gave way to twenty, and eventually, some of the stories I considered half-decent off here became a book. An anthology of lives, as I called it then. I christened it Grimmest Things. The words had come to me random months before, and I'd written them down in my Notes app, knowing I'd use them someday.

It was fitting because that's how I initially thought up "honeydue". I felt that's the way that should be written, and in the end, it became my name.

Now, six years later, the daily writing habit has given way not to a single book, but to an entire trilogy... and it wouldn't exist without Hive, or the people who encouraged my writing on here, in the first place. Writing Hearthender meant a complete break from this platform for a few months, earlier this year. I just couldn't do the writing thing and the work thing and the traveling thing and this thing all at once. I came back, though. They always do, don't they? This place drags you in. I find myself missing the people. Wondering what so-and-so is up to. Bunch of people I miss around here, too, though I hope those who can will eventually come back.

It was on here I learned to disagree with people, and to weigh my writing better. At all, really. It was talking to smart people on here that got me thinking sometimes I'd pushed the envelope, or would've made a stronger argument if I hadn't allowed my emotions to get in the way. It's also here I've poured countless emotional rants on a wide array of topics.

Over the years, I've interacted with various online writing communities, most filled with sycophants and kiss-asses, and sure, you sometimes get that here. But you also get the option of selecting actual, human, no-bs feedback. You get people who come along and drop the bland "excellent post!". But you also get the people telling you why it's an excellent post, and how it resonated. And you get the people who politely tell you why maybe your post sucked because X, Y, and Z. And you learn something.

I could probably spend hours talking about Hive/Steemit. I fell in love with it six years ago, and I still am, to this day, in love to a good measure. A more understanding, more secure love, but still, to this day, persists a feeling of awe, and Isn't this amazing?.

Corny, but... you know?

... and for making the ride so much more enjoyable.