When I started this blog, I had some vague intention of writing myself whole again and into a new life. My writing attempts were sporadic to say the least. Somewhere in my head there is the place of shame, where I do not want anyone to see my feeble attempts at explaining myself. There is the place of not wanting to be seen. Then there is the story of ‘not good enough’ that plays on an endless loop in my head, and I have come to discover, in everyone else’s heads too.
There is the inquiry of what to write about, what I have to say, the fear of not being interesting enough to be read. Being visible in the cyber world invites negative comments from people who may not think the same way as I do, may not capture the nuances of my language or style or my colloquialisms. As we are all different this is to be expected, however I have noticed the quickness to judge others in the anonymity of the cyber world. This scares me.
It scares me that when I write, I am exposed. When I take the time to write from the heart, put words on the whiteness of the page, the page becomes a scary place to be when I am afraid of being judged as ‘not good enough’ as my endless loop plays on and on.