It seems to me as I get older that truth is a matter of opinion. Some truths really are fact based but others are based on a person’s point of view. What I see as truth in a given situation may not be the same as the other three people involved. Especially if it concerns anyone’s feelings. Add emotion into the mix and all bets on finding a single truth are gone.
Why am I musing on such things? I started this blog in order to begin writing again. In the past, much of my writing was “secret.” Secret in the sense that only a select few would get to read it. As a teenager, I would leave poetry, notes, stories, etc. around the house as a way of communicating indirectly with my mother. I wrote for classes and myself. Precious few bits of my writing would end up in public for anyone to see. I still have in my possession several notebooks of things I wrote. They range from silly broken-hearted teenager stuff to very raw emotional rants. Each one held a bit of me from the moment it was written.
Today I struggle with writing because it’s very public – if you can find me. I’ve been posting erratically but I have several drafts saved. The last one I started is the one that led to this particular post because I want to understand my hesitation. My conclusion is that this hesitation is caused by fear. FEAR. Fear? Really?
Yes, really. If I let go of my tightly controlled hold on things and just put out there what is rolling around my head then things could change. People may not like what I write. What if my mother doesn’t like it? What if my 13-year-old daughter reads it? (We are heading into that “I hate my mother” phase.) What if my husband, who is no longer in love with me, reads it and it’s different from his truth? What if, what if, what if…
Never in my life have I spent so much time in the land of What If. I’m used to spending my time at the corner of What the Hell and Who Cares What They Think.
So, what if I decide to write my truth, my way and in my own time and not worry about “people” or fear? Maybe I’ll become a better writer. Maybe something I write will help and/or touch someone else. Maybe I’ll grow back into my own confidence. Hmmm…
Whiskey in a Teacup 
Love you
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So what if I do not like everything you write. I didn’t always when you left those pieces of you around the house but they did let help me to get to know you. Good , bad , indifferent. We are not always wonderful even though we try. Point is I like who you have become, I love that you can be fearless, vulnerable, loving, angry, happy, crazy, and alive. did I mention short tempered at times? Whoops?
What are we if not the sum of our experiences? Who are we if we do not meet new people and experiences and embrace them and/or get rid of the experiences we would like to forget but use the knowledge to be better people.
Those who like and love you will stand behind you forever and those who do not their loss. So strike that cord and write, write, write. You new sum of yourself is just around the corner.
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I hear you. I always considered myself to be confident enough to accept artistic rejection, so it was a huge shock to discover that I had stopped creating (or at least creating publicly) because I was afraid. I think it’s great that you wanted to examine your hesitation. I have just recently started to treat all my obstacles as solvable problems (if I can just look at them closely enough), so that really resonated with me. Courage!
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