I'm not that big into reading blogs. So, really, that leads me to believe most of the time anyway, that that applies to other people too. So, really, what's the point in keeping up a blog if nobody really reads it? But the fact of the matter is, that from time to time I do read people's blogs, and from time to time people read mine. And even if they're not, writing things out has always been rather cathartic for me, so, it doesn't really matter either way.
My favorite moment, in reading someone else's blog, is that moment when you feel like you get a real, true window into their life, how they feel. It's a sense of camaraderie. It's cheating in a way because you are able to feel that camaraderie, but they don't necessarily get to, because unless you choose to tell them, they don't even know that you felt that way... But still. It's another one of those things about blogs that can be rather therapeutic. Getting the chance to feel that there are other people out there that are experiencing something akin to yourself, or even just knowing that you're not the only one with crap happening beneath the rainbow glass window that everyone else gets to look at your life through. "The Facebook" image of what your life looks like. Cute selfies with your kids, and craft time. Cuz even though everyone knows that's clearly not a complete picture of what life is like, it's easy to forget. We assume everyone is living a better, happier life than we are. Well, maybe not all of us, let's not live in a world of absolutes ;)
So, one of my biggest dreams in life has always been to be one of those people that didn't maintain that kind of facade... someone who allowed people to know and see what was really going on in my life beyond the cute selfie moments. For a long time, I thought that was me. But looking back on it, that hasn't been true for a long time. I was always very very good at hiding my emotions. I remember the first time I wasn't good at hiding it was with my friend Emma in middle school. I could never lie to her and she always seemed to know when I was holding something back. I loved that about her, although it also scared me a little I think. Anyway, I think I became too good at hiding those emotions from myself too.
I have a hard time drawing the line of what to say, which is why I never end up posting anything on this subject like I wish I would. I have the tendency to overshare once I get going, and while I have this fantasized idea in my head of being some kind of figure head on my soapbox talking about abuse or feminism or depression or something.. No secrets. Elizabeth Smart style, yknow? When your story can become a cause that means something instead of just being something that happened. Because when I have had the opportunity to share my story, I generally have had the opportunity to help someone. So, why not talk about it publicly? Why not help more people? That makes sense, right? It's what I want. But I also still believe that there is a certain amount of trust that should be involved before sharing certain things about myself... Because sharing is being willing to be vulnerable, and I just don't do vulnerable very well. Been there, done that, rather not, I suppose.
Anyway, I don't really have a point that I'm getting at... this just seemed like the right balance of honesty towards what I'm thinking and how I'm feeling, without super-duper over sharing ;) Ha. Most of me still just doesn't want to talk about anything.. but I also want to feel like things are changing and that means doing something different than how I've been doing it. Granted, there's a long list of things I ought to be doing/doing differently... but... one step at a time.
So, no promises, but, here's to writing in my blog again, even if it doesn't become a consistent thing. It happened, and I'm glad for now that it did ;)
Cheers
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