How do people do it?

Vulnerability + an audience is not for the faint of heart

There are so many things I wish I had the courage to write about. I am not sure if courage is the right word, and vocabulary is important to me, so we’ll just use it as a placeholder for now.

Not that there is a particular topic that I am afraid to talk about necessarily, it’s that once it is out there, I have no clue or control who might ever see it.

Many things that I would want to say, I have said — to an audience of my choosing, and depending the topic, likely a very small, very close, and very interactive audience.

And while anything I write today I can be pretty confident isn’t going far and has a pretty safe reach, there is always the unknown. There is the hope that there is a larger audience in the future.**

Is it a little nerve-racking that there is the possibility that my crush could see something that feels personal or embarrassing? Like a stack of selfies that were never intended to see the light of day. Of course. But I don’t think that is the long-lasting fear. Could I say something that makes a friend twinge or a family member uncomfortable? Of course. But hopefully those relationships are strong enough to merit honest open conversations as needed. Might there be general criticism or chatter from strangers and acquaintances alike? Of course. And while it stings and can be a block, it hopefully isn’t a permanent reason to hold back.

For me, a big fear is that people who used to be in my life and aren’t anymore could ever read my writings. While I have no hard feelings towards anyone, I am not sure I want them to have access to my thoughts. Them knowing any of the whats and wheres of my life now feel like intimacies that I don’t wish to grant. Plus anything I write will always just be my side of a story, and maybe if feels a little unfair to share only that.

But I don’t want those people to hold me back any longer. The only way out is through. So here’s to working through fear, one sentence at a time.

I think the best gift my ex-husband gave me was his affair.

There is obviously a lot more. So once I see how my nerves do with that, I’m sure there’ll more.

** Even that was scary to write. Which is ridiculous. If I wasn’t interested in having people read what I write or having an avenue to share with each other, I could keep this in a journal by my bed. Of course growth is desirable.

In the car recently and was feeling my hair and whatnot, so tried getting a photo. But this red-light zombie version is about how I feel right now writing and sharing.

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