Why I Named My Blog The Graceful Klutz

It took me several months to finally set up my blog and even longer after that to purchase my domain. Being the perfectionist that I am, there was always some minor detail that kept me from sharing my website with the world. 

After months of beating up my mentality, my fingers, and my sanity, I finally decided that it didn't have to be perfect. This is something that I preach to anyone who is starting a blog. It is not going to look amazing when you first start. Hell, I'm still improving on my website, and I've been doing this for over a year now.

While a blog is a lifelong learning process, there was one thing I was always adamant on having before going public. I wanted a name that I could stick behind throughout the years and something that symbolized who I was, what I was writing about, and a name that others could relate to. This isn't to diminish anyone who just uses their name or hasn't figured out what title they want to give their website, but just how I felt at that moment.

It took me several months to come up with The Graceful Klutz, a term that has been used by several other blogs in the past. It might not be original (then again, what is these days?), but it had meant to me. To understand why I chose this name, you have to know a little about me and my background. 

For instance, you have to realize that the term 'klutz' has always been in my vocabulary since the day I was born. Anyone who knows me can tell you that I make a sport out of tripping over my own two feet. No matter what project I am doing, I find a way to injure myself in some way.

When I used to work at a restaurant, the other manager would only give me small knives because I somehow always found a way to cut myself. I remember distinctly almost chopping off my finger when I decided to get a piece of cucumber out of a moving meat slicer. You would think, being a semi-intelligent human, that I would have turned off the machine before putting my hands so close to a sharp blade, but don't overestimate my capabilities of doing dumb stunts.

The thing is, I've always lived with this klutz lifestyle and, throughout the years, found ways to make it as graceful as possible. If I fell, I would get back up, rub the dirt off of my bloody knees, and make a joke out of it with pep in my step. If I spilled something on my shirt (a daily consequence in my life), I would merely turn the shirt inside out and make it a statement piece. Instead of trying to change something inevitable, I learned to live with it.

A few days ago I was talking to my boyfriend about the name of my website, and a memory hit me. When we were first starting to date, there was a lot of ups and downs in our relationships. I was insecure, and he was scared of commitment. From this, we broke up more times than I can count. However, being the stubborn woman that I am, I would befriend him and wow his pants off with my personality so that he had to come running back. Seems silly now, but I thought I had everything under control.

There was one instance when we were broken up that he came over to my house to hang out as friends. We had a great time watching movies and just talking, all the while me trying to impress him to go in for that kiss I was dying for. After he left, I decided to go see some friends who lived right down the street from my boyfriend's house. It was late at night and, being the idiot that I am, I decided to jog the few blocks over instead of just drive (it was a small town, so everything was in walking distance).

Wearing cute boots, this jog was no walk in the park. I tripped a few times but kept on my quest. Once I was directly across the street from my boyfriend's house, the fates intervened, and I went flailing across the sidewalk. To this day I couldn't tell you if I tripped over something or if my left foot collided with my right. 

Being a pro at falling, my knees were the first thing to hit the pavement. The sidewalk was slanted downward, so my skin made an impact before sliding a few more feet. With this, my phone flew out of my hands and broke into pieces a few yards away from me. Whether it was shock or my ability to take hard falls, I immediately got up and went to retrieve my phone.

As I sat down to assess the situation, I noticed that this fall was not like others. Blood was pooling out of my knees, and the sidewalk had taken most of the top layer off. Shaking and unable to move, I put my phone together and called my soon to be boyfriend. Being directly outside of his house, he walked out to find me in a heap at the corner of the street. With wide eyes, he looked at the horror movie and attempted to lift me up and walk me the rest of the way to the friend's house I intended to go to.

From there, my friends helped wrap my knees and clean them. By this point, the shock had worn off, and the pain was becoming excruciating. With my friend and boyfriend helping me move, I limped into a car, and they drove me home. At the time, it was incredibly embarrassing. However, this injury did bring something good out of it. 

With my knees recovering, my boyfriend came around more and, from this, we started to grow our relationship. My klutziness singlehandedly brought me the love of my life. If that isn't a graceful ending, I don't know what is.

So, why The Graceful Klutz? Because at some point in our life we are going to fall over our own two feet. It is going to hurt and take a long time to heal. Instead of just sitting there in sorrow for ourselves, we can choose to pick ourselves up with a smile and keep on moving (or limping). We can take that fall and turn it into something spectacular. 

You can be graceful and a klutz at the same time, it merely takes being mindful and keeping your head up. We all have a graceful klutz in all of us.  


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