I’ve found myself in a state of naked. A state of putting myself out there for strangers to gawk at, while holding shreds of fabric to cover the private part of my mind and emotions. Starting this blog is every bit of exciting as it is scary. I’m a confident writer, though my wonderful family and friends help build that confidence. Even with that belief in my creativity, bits of me is sprinkled throughout my work and knowing that others will have an opinion about parts of me is where the vulnerability comes in. Most people go to work with their insecurities tucked in their sleeves, their childhood issues waiting for them in the car, or perhaps by the door at home. With my line of work (in which is paying me like a volunteer at this present moment) I am literally passing out my issues, life lessons, and crazy to people hidden in the fiction that I create. Sure, no one will ever really know what is my own experience unless they know me personally, however, that doesn’t change that I am mentally naked and assuming some will figure that out.
Please do not mistake, I’m not complaining about this. I chose my line of work and I am so much happier with opening up and sharing who I am with however many strangers are willing to listen (or in this case read). This provides me with the therapy I should have been in since childhood, the minds that are willing to go where my professional tools take them, and if I’m really lucky, the chance to allow for someone to relate to my words and not feel so alone.
So yes, I am in a space in which makes me anxious, fearful, naked, and everything else in between. I am sitting on my couch, wig off, no makeup, no bra. Now I’m completely exposed, though in the best way and on my terms. Grateful for the ability to share me with whomever will listen (read).