Vulnerability

In the past few weeks, I’ve been contemplating writing something, anything. But the second I open up a ‘New Post’ page, I stop myself and ask ‘Do I have anything to say?’. Not just plain content to share, because I could easily pick a topic and write about it and BAM, new blog post, traffic, blah blah blah, sometime in 50 years blogging success or whatever (I dunno). But would that mean anything to anyone? Would it say* anything meaningful, would it be worth speaking for? Maybe. But maybe hasn’t been enough for me lately.

Today, however, I had a different thought. A thought that sprung from what I’m going through emotionally, and what I’m struggling with. So instead of looking at it from the perspective of – the pressure I put on myself to say something meaningful and enriching, – I’m looking at it from the perspective of sharing, if only for the sake of one reader connecting with my story and realising they’re not the only ones going through what we’re going through, and finding some kind of twisted comfort in that.

Maybe that’s not enough, maybe I might end up turning into one of those people who posts stuff with too much feels or whatever – maybe it is enough, maybe I’ll only do the one post for another month or year, but when it comes to sharing my experiences and truly bearing my heart and soul, whatever parts I’m not too chicken to give you a glimpse of, maybe is enough.

In my life, God has blessed me tremendously with light and warmth and a smile that could stretch beyond the happiness my heart can hardly manifest. All these things fill me with so much joy, tear duct draining joy. But with love as large as mine for life, living and people; there is heartache just as big when all the love isn’t enough, because often it’s not.

I go through moments of intense fear of the future, and pain about the past that dictates my present and limits my future, and in those moments, nothing is as true as my wet cheeks and puffy eyes, and I am certain that most people, if not all, have felt this way at some point in their lives.

 

I wrote the bulk of this post (everything before this sentence) a couple of months ago, and it’s just been sitting in my drafts. I’m tired of seeing it in my drafts. I still believe most of this. I’m still working on all of it.

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