So my last blog post was in September and I can't tell you why exactly I fell off the map when it comes to blogging or even writing in general. I could sit here and offer one excuse after another but it would do no good. All I can offer is the truth, so here it is.
I'm afraid.
The past several months I have found myself contemplating over and over again what it is I would like to get out in my writing. Yes. I have a story, don't we all? But in looking back at previous texts I have offered up to the public, I have a huge confession to make: I'm very censored in what I'm willing to share.
So just to shake things up a bit, here's a few things you may or may not have known about me: I wasn't a virgin when I got married. Once, when I was 6 I let a blind girl's brother convince me it was OK to throw rocks near her to scare her and I accidentally hit her in the forehead. I used to be (and still have tendencies to be) anorexic. I haven't always been faithful in relationships, if you count kissing another boy while dating a different one.
Just to name a few.
I'm not proud of any of the situations above and none of them are subjects I like sharing or talking about, but they're a part of me, take it or leave it and it doesn't change the person I have become. Perhaps, I am saying this more to myself than to you, considering I cringe every time I think of any one of these things and I cringe at the thought that you just might too.
Maybe you did.
Do you feel different about me now?
Maybe you do and that's OK. My point is that I can't control how any one of you may react to the events which have occurred in my life.The whole idea of this project is to put my story out there in the best way I see possible. After this is done, it's out of my hands.
I like to give off the impression that I am a happy, free spirited sort of gal. And yes, most days this is true. However, I do have a dark side that I keep hidden from most people. Consider yourself lucky (or perhaps unlucky) if you have caught a glimpse of said personality. I have to admit, there are days when she comes out and I'm like, "oh dear, it's you again" I'm not necessarily fond of this person nor am I happy to admit that she exists within me, but she's there just the same.
Along with all of the censorship I have noted that I also censor my audience, that is, I stifle who I share my stories with. I didn't even realize that this was something I was doing and have done all along not only in my writing but in my everyday life. I do have a voice, shy as it may be, and I have so much to say, but I also hold back on most occasions in fear that I might offend someone with my own opinions and thoughts. I mostly offer up the side of my personality that hates confrontation and would rather stand in silence, nodding at her audience in what I can only assume appears to be in agreement when in all reality I could completely disagree and am fighting the urge to chew off my own tongue.
I have a hard time with judgement and yet I judge myself on a daily basis. I am my worse critic and it's unfair to everyone else to assume that they will do the same when in all reality, does it really matter? Yes, I am very sensitive and yes, I truly care what people think of me and of my writing. I thrive from feedback or lack thereof and I find that this want or need for acceptance holds me back.
One could say I have a somewhat obsessive quality constantly ticking within my soul. For example, I checked to see how many people "liked" the status I wrote on facebook regarding the new blogs I will be posting in the coming week. I checked 10 times in the first 5 minutes, getting no results and when I came home from work, I checked once more to find there were two.
Two.
That's it. (By the way, thanks Mandy and Alexis:).
Needless to say, I got a bit discouraged.
Why does this bother me? Perhaps it's because I take it as a reflection of how few people are interested in me and my life. I realize deep down that this isn't fair or even remotely true. We all have lives to live and time to spend elsewhere. It just matters to me and I know I have to stop caring what everyone else thinks or doesn't think or how much or how little time is spent evaluating the inner workings of my mind. In all reality, I do enough to make up for everyone else.
All this being said, I have made a new promise to myself and in doing so, I have made a promise to you, the reader.
I will write.
And I will not let the fear of not being liked get in the way of the stories I want to write about. In doing so, I will always offer up the truth, no matter how much it might hurt.
No more holding back.
No more silence.
" Cause sometimes I said sometimes I hear my voice And it's been here
Silent All These Years" -Tori Amos
I'm afraid.
The past several months I have found myself contemplating over and over again what it is I would like to get out in my writing. Yes. I have a story, don't we all? But in looking back at previous texts I have offered up to the public, I have a huge confession to make: I'm very censored in what I'm willing to share.
So just to shake things up a bit, here's a few things you may or may not have known about me: I wasn't a virgin when I got married. Once, when I was 6 I let a blind girl's brother convince me it was OK to throw rocks near her to scare her and I accidentally hit her in the forehead. I used to be (and still have tendencies to be) anorexic. I haven't always been faithful in relationships, if you count kissing another boy while dating a different one.
Just to name a few.
I'm not proud of any of the situations above and none of them are subjects I like sharing or talking about, but they're a part of me, take it or leave it and it doesn't change the person I have become. Perhaps, I am saying this more to myself than to you, considering I cringe every time I think of any one of these things and I cringe at the thought that you just might too.
Maybe you did.
Do you feel different about me now?
Maybe you do and that's OK. My point is that I can't control how any one of you may react to the events which have occurred in my life.The whole idea of this project is to put my story out there in the best way I see possible. After this is done, it's out of my hands.
I like to give off the impression that I am a happy, free spirited sort of gal. And yes, most days this is true. However, I do have a dark side that I keep hidden from most people. Consider yourself lucky (or perhaps unlucky) if you have caught a glimpse of said personality. I have to admit, there are days when she comes out and I'm like, "oh dear, it's you again" I'm not necessarily fond of this person nor am I happy to admit that she exists within me, but she's there just the same.
Along with all of the censorship I have noted that I also censor my audience, that is, I stifle who I share my stories with. I didn't even realize that this was something I was doing and have done all along not only in my writing but in my everyday life. I do have a voice, shy as it may be, and I have so much to say, but I also hold back on most occasions in fear that I might offend someone with my own opinions and thoughts. I mostly offer up the side of my personality that hates confrontation and would rather stand in silence, nodding at her audience in what I can only assume appears to be in agreement when in all reality I could completely disagree and am fighting the urge to chew off my own tongue.
I have a hard time with judgement and yet I judge myself on a daily basis. I am my worse critic and it's unfair to everyone else to assume that they will do the same when in all reality, does it really matter? Yes, I am very sensitive and yes, I truly care what people think of me and of my writing. I thrive from feedback or lack thereof and I find that this want or need for acceptance holds me back.
One could say I have a somewhat obsessive quality constantly ticking within my soul. For example, I checked to see how many people "liked" the status I wrote on facebook regarding the new blogs I will be posting in the coming week. I checked 10 times in the first 5 minutes, getting no results and when I came home from work, I checked once more to find there were two.
Two.
That's it. (By the way, thanks Mandy and Alexis:).
Needless to say, I got a bit discouraged.
Why does this bother me? Perhaps it's because I take it as a reflection of how few people are interested in me and my life. I realize deep down that this isn't fair or even remotely true. We all have lives to live and time to spend elsewhere. It just matters to me and I know I have to stop caring what everyone else thinks or doesn't think or how much or how little time is spent evaluating the inner workings of my mind. In all reality, I do enough to make up for everyone else.
All this being said, I have made a new promise to myself and in doing so, I have made a promise to you, the reader.
I will write.
And I will not let the fear of not being liked get in the way of the stories I want to write about. In doing so, I will always offer up the truth, no matter how much it might hurt.
No more holding back.
No more silence.
" Cause sometimes I said sometimes I hear my voice And it's been here
Silent All These Years" -Tori Amos
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