Okay, a lot silly and abundantly foolish.
And vulnerable and weird and also my skin is starting to itch just thinking about it. Its as if my inner voice is clawing at my brain going, "WHAT ARE YOU DOING? TAKE THOSE THOUGHTS OFF THE INTERNET, DUMMY!" (my inner voice is pretty loud and also a little bit of a jerkface)
I have never felt more embarrassed than when I show people what I have written (and I've fallen down a flight of stairs in formal attire in front of hundreds of people. So yeah, my bar for embarrassment is pretty high) . It took me years to let my own husband read my stuff and then it came with a strict "We shall never speak of this again" clause. Actually, I've pretty much demanded that of everyone I've showed any writing to. When I was toying with the idea of a making an actual go at this blog deal, I asked a few friends to read it and give me some feedback. Except I told them not to talk to me about it after they read it. The insanity of this is not lost on me. "Please read this and give me feedback, but also never breathe a word of this to anyone ever, especially me." But fear has made me crazy. It has made me shifty eyed and red face and stumble over my words as I scramble to leave any room where someone so much as dares to hint at this blog. It has made me a magic trick in reverse--look at this seemingly normal woman turn into a rabbit and desperately try to disappear into her hat! Tada!
This fear place, this under current of mild anxiety that has curled itself around my heart--it has spoken so loudly and boldly and with such authority for so long that I have let myself be blinded to the lies and death it brings. It has let me believe that dreams and passions aren't for real life. They aren't for speaking out loud or sharing or running after. It has told me only certain talents and interests can bring truth and light into the world (and your weird love of pop culture and YA lit definitely don't fit the bill, lady). It yelled into every corner of my being that to let other people in on your tightly clutched secrets is to give them too much power, too much to hold over your head and heart. It has convinced me vulnerability is for fools and indifference keeps you strong. It has wound thick ropes of dread around me and made me a coward hiding in darkness.
Confession: I have been trying to finish this post for days. I have started half a dozen others, but keep coming back to this one. I didn't want to write it. I'm not entirely sure what the tone of this blog will be yet, but man, it is so much easier to keep it surface level and light. I'm good there. I can do that in my sleep. But more and more as I sit down to write, all of these...feelings keep bubbling to the surface. I can feel God pushing aside the debris of that fear voice and tugging at the roots of life underneath. I gotta tell you, not entirely a fan of the process right now. Not one hundred percent sold At. All. It is painful and awkward and I'm fighting it on all sorts of heart and soul levels. But (and I admit this somewhat begrudgingly) I can already see the difference its making. I can feel the shift (however small) in not only how I view myself, but also in how I interact with others. The fear is still there, and even now my chest is constricting with the thought of posting this. But I'm