I was never one to openly talk about myself, it made me feel safer to keep things to myself. I bottled up things that happened to me (good and bad), held them tight and close, and it left some serious scars. When I created my first blog, all that changed. It started small but still a notable extent that stretched further as time passed.
Blogging gave me a healthy amount of anonymity and it felt okay-ish to share certain parts of my soul, heart, and life. It gave sound to a voice I didn’t know was there. It was therapeutic.
I lost that.
It doesn’t feel safe anymore. Nor does it feel therapeutic. It started when I decided to divorce my ex and has continued to get worse. I thought it would change, it hasn’t. I’m caught in this mix of what I should and shouldn’t say, and I hate that. It sucks because I feel like I know things that are worth sharing and there are things that would be good for me to purge.
I know I could write about less personal things. I don’t have to share what my heart is screaming to get out. I don’t have to write the truth of my struggles. I don’t have to write about circumstances and events that make up my life – past and present, good and bad. Yes, I could refrain from writing about all those things and still connect with all of you that come here to read my words.
I just have no desire to write that way. It’s not who I am and I refuse to be anyone else, especially in this space. I’ve even said more than feels comfortable in this post.
I wish all of you the best and I’ll come back when life is different.