I finished reading Packing Light by Allison Fallon. This is my favourite type of book: simply sharing your journey and the insights from it with raw honesty. When I finished the book I had one thought: I want to write.
It was that deep-gut, desperate-need thing: I want to write.
I want to write like Ally does on her blog and tell people they’re remarkable and I want to have conversations and tell people they’re amazing. But it doesn’t come out right when I say it. It comes out either shallow or aggressive. My tone doesn’t convey the deep, genuine meaning I intend it to. Maybe I’m too self-conscious to say it with the right tone, or maybe I need to find my own tone.
I can’t write like Ally. I have to write like me. Who is that? What does she sound like?
I want to be real. I’m too scared to be real. I’m too scared of being judged. Too scared to show my fears. But that’s what I want to do.
Maybe I just need to get over my fear. Not let it control me. Face it. Don’t let fear stop me from hitting publish. And then don’t care who reads it or what they think. Maybe I need to do this right now, or else I’ll never be me.
So I’m just going to do to it. Because I’m so frustrated and restless right now. Frustration can lead to courage, apparently. Because right now I want to write the truth and not care what happens. I want to be me.
Blogging can be so painful sometimes, but it’s also a privilege. I’m grateful for blogging, that we can spread a message so easily. And here I am just desperate to share my heart and bare my soul.
But it’s so hard. I want to share about the things that move me, but when I can’t do them justice, I don’t even want to try. But I’m sick of wanting to write and be real. I just want to do it. I’m sick of hiding all the time. I want to let all this stuff going on inside me out. Not because it’s pretty, but because it’s me. I need to be me. I need to be me in writing and in the world. I’ve got to start somewhere. Why not with this blog post?
Stop living in fear. Jesus died for me because he loves me. So who cares what my readers, friends, and family think. I am loved no matter what happens. He died so I can be me. So just do it. There’s no use living if you’re going to hide and not be who you are.