In early June of last year, Pinterest fit into a collection of what my brain would consider irrelevant online resources.

As a below-average to mediocre technology-user, who has had a Facebook for only four years and has posted a total of twelve photos, (yes, you read that correctly), it shouldn’t come as a shock that many popular websites would fall under this category for me.

I use Google, my email, Amazon, YouTube, Netflix, Facebook(?), Instagram (I have posted twice), University of Michigan’s online database, and as of last June, Pinterest.

So in an effort to celebrate Pinterest’s upgrade in my mind from irrelevance to obsession, I thought I’d show some love for this lovely, creative tool.

I can’t think of a better way to describe Pinterest than the way it brands itself: “the world’s catalog of ideas.”

When I first created an account, I was incredibly overwhelmed. Anything and everything I could ever imagine doing, thinking, making, saying, seeing, or feeling, was at my disposal in the form of a “pin.”

I began, like all new users, by following certain “Topics” so that pins corresponding to these topics would flow into my feed. Moments later, suggestions of Art, Fashion, Pop Culture, Recipes, Inspirational Quotes, Product Design, and Architecture filled my screen and my mind, and I was hooked.

At this moment, a little more than one year after creating my account, I have 14 boards and a total of 4,550 pins.

And here’s why.

In a way, I imagine my own mind like I imagine my Pinterest profile: it’s compartmentalized. Each board contains a series of ideas, thoughts, photographs—portals, I’d like to think, to different things.

I will never—sorry, me—own the 621 outfits I have pinned to my “Clothes” board. But there’s something incredibly therapeutic about having them all so accessible, so there, so organized in my profile. I can view them whenever I want, admire them, and perhaps even mix and match some of the clothes in my own closet to compliment their styles.

I may never see a pop-up coffee shop in Berlin, the brightly colored pebbles in Lake McDonald, the Split Rock Lighthouse on Lake Superior, or the streets of Amsterdam. But I can see them on my photography board. I can visit the Eiffel Tower, fly above the New York City skyline, and hop aboard a train through the countryside. I can follow the associated links and learn more about these entities.

I can find recipes for brownies, jams, and mango green tea smoothies. I can learn how to make zucchini chips and avocado ranch dressing. I can be motivated to eat healthier, workout more, or take up yoga. I can revisit places I’ve been and visualize things I have already done.

I can experience nostalgia just from looking at these pins—some of which I've never experienced in real life... if that's even possible.

These boards are photo albums containing photos I’ve never taken, but I kind of feel like I have. I’ve curated them. I’ve thought about if and how they fit with my other pins, and how they can contribute to my collection.

I realize this may sound obsessive. However, in an age where the battle between online and reality is never-ending, there is no reason why we shouldn’t be inspired—able to explore, imagine, and just think about things that are out there in the world.

Some may argue that it’s magical thinking for me to pin so many castles in Europe, designer clothing brands, and gourmet recipes that I have no business making as someone who has burned water. But I think that’s okay.

I think it’s important to dream a little bit and enjoy the possibilities—glimpse it and dwell for a while.

Who knows? You may discover a thing or two you find interesting. And maybe, just maybe, as it's pinned on a board in the back of your mind, you'll pursue it one day.