I'm a writer.
It's who I am. It's what I do. It's a large part of my life, whether I like it or not. I can't avoid it. Nor, I'm learning, should I. It's the best way for me to process my world and to better understand my own thoughts, feelings, and emotions. It serves as my most effective form of therapy other than actual therapy, which is obviously the best therapy.
I've spent the last several months trying to ignore my urge to write. I've suppressed the desire and especially avoided starting this new blog. Even though I knew I would always contribute to another virtual home and claimed this particular web address six months ago in preparation for "some day," I was overwhelmed and debilitated by the prospect of starting over.
But, then again, I've relatively successfully started over in nearly every other aspect of my life within the past year, so why not my blog, too? I want to woman up and put my strength and courage to work in this area, as well.
Despite my knowing that the purpose of this blog would be primarily for my own personal benefit, I am still aware that other people might eventually have the opportunity to read it, too, and I have felt like the opening post needs to be perfect. I've put all kinds of pressure on myself to be positive yet honest; succinct yet encompassing. I wanted to present a thorough introduction to what this little corner in the cyber world would ultimately be and achieve before it was made public, but I'm still not even sure of that myself.
Besides, it's incredibly scary for me to open my heart and soul up to the world-at-large. As a general rule, I'm a relatively raw human being. I purposefully strive to achieve transparent authenticity in my life, but when I do that in front of a potentially large audience, I'm exposing my vulnerabilities to be judged, critiqued, and remarked upon. That's frightening. What if people don't like what they read? What if people don't like who they see? What if people are offended or annoyed or irritated? What if people take the most sensitive parts of me and don't handle them with care? What if I reveal truths about myself that are overwhelming?
What if I'm too much?
What if I'm not enough?
What if I have already, literally, expressed the crux of all of my insecurities in this very first post? Am I ready for that? Are you ready for that? For the past year, I know I haven't been. And to be honest, I'm not 100% positive that I am now, either. But it's time. It's finally time.
It's time that I climb out from behind my own shadow of fear and into the light to clearly examine myself and discover who I am. And for me, I do that through writing. I don't know who I thought I was kidding all these months trying to not express myself in written word. It certainly wasn't my mother, therapist, or closest friends who have never stopped urging me to blog or at least journal again.
So, here goes. I'm declaring right now that I will (strive to) not care how this blog is received. I am fully aware that my self-worth is not dependent upon any other person's acceptance or rejection of me. I can't control how a reader will respond to what I'll write, whether internally or expressed. And that's okay. I am who I am, and I'm finally ready to share that person, despite my fears.
I can't make any promises of what this blog will become. I can't make any predictions of what the posts will primarily consist of. I can't provide any expectations of what you might or might not see lining this web page. All I know is that it will be real; it will be me; and it will be.
