Embracing the Awkward

The amount of time that has passed since I "launched" this site and when I have posted again is embarrassing. It took me about 2.2 seconds to fall right back into old patterns of previous blogging attempts. Embarrassing. The list of post ideas/writing prompts grows daily, so there's no shortage of things I want to write. And I've had some time that I could have put figurative pen to paper, but didn't. It all boils down to a singular culprit: fear. I have so many things to say, and an equal amount of fear about saying them "out loud."

I don't think this is by mistake. It's my most whole self that knows I have a story to share and a gift for words. The problem is, I'm not my most whole self all the time. In fact, some weeks (or months) she's a rare sight. I get bogged down, as everyone does, with the daily task of living (and of trying to keep all the living things around me alive.) I also suffer with depression and anxiety that serves to be quite the mental and productivity block. But most importantly, I want my blog to be God-led, and the enemy loves to stop anything with that goal right in its tracks.

Whatever the reason, I have a feeling this lack of discipline and required boldness to tackle what I believe to be a quite important step in my own healing as well as a potential life-preserver for someone else is a hurdle I have to clear before further blessing and growth can enter my life. And I desperately need that to happen. So here we are, embracing the unknown and facing the fear all its splendid awkwardness.

The traps I set for myself (or stumble upon) are mostly based on my fears over how this will all be perceived. I've never lacked for public vulnerability - I'm fairly "what you see is what you get" - and pride myself on saying what I mean and meaning what I say, but these things have not been well-received in the past. Brutal honesty is not the essence of the southern gentility I was raised with. Close friends and family members have balked at my brazen speaking out about mental health and motherhood matters. Lies and misconceptions have slithered around me like vipers in the recent past. I knew I couldn't control it then, but when you open Pandora's box by writing publicly, the invitation for criticism is inherent.

This fear of how this all will be perceived is focused on mainly one specific concern: I don't want to ever appear self-righteous. I don't have anything "figured out." I don't have a role-model-worthy relationship with God. I don't wear my wounds like badges of honor. I'm merely telling stories. Truthful ones, but stories nonetheless. Sometimes there are morals to said stories, but only because that was part of my experience. All of the rest is still part of experimentation, hypothesizing about how I'm going to approach whatever I'm meant to learn from whatever is unfolding at the moment. And the ironically funny thing? Writing is how I do just that. This is the process of all the inner work I'm doing, and the changes that come alongside it. I think part of the process of growth is nostalgia - being able to look at something with fresh eyes, with fresh perspectives. And sometimes that invites change. Maybe I should have a disclaimer on my blog: "All opinions herein are subject to change as appropriate according to growth, acceptance, and mere happenstance." And maybe that's more than just a blog disclaimer; maybe it's a life disclaimer.

So buckle-up, because I can guarantee this will be a bumpy ride. But I can also promise it's one worth taking. At least for me, it will be. And according to pharmaceutical company ads, we all love watching other people riding in a car, right?