Because the two sides were never really separate.

Part of doing this is about challenging that story I tell about myself. I do not have to remain the person with plenty of ideas and very little to show for them. I can finish something. I can be the person with the idea and the person who does the work.

The bigger reason is less tidy.

I am struggling with the everyday whirlwind of trying to get everything right. Work, leadership, motherhood, ambition and the rest of life all compete for attention, often at the same time. I find myself carrying thoughts that I have not properly stopped to examine.

This blog is partly a cathartic exercise. I need somewhere to put those thoughts down, look at them properly and work out what I think.

I am not writing because I have figured anything out. I have not. Much of what I write may be unfinished, uncertain or something I later reconsider. That is the point. I want this to be a place where I can process things rather than pretend I have resolved them.

Writing in a diary has always felt slightly self-indulgent to me and, perhaps unfairly, a little too millennial. Sharing my thoughts feels different. It turns a private exercise into an invitation.

If I am already doing the work of questioning, noticing and trying to understand, perhaps sharing it will allow me to learn from other people doing the same. Someone may recognise themselves in an experience. Someone may disagree with me or offer a perspective I had not considered. Someone may have already learned the lesson I am still struggling through.