Some Words...

Someone recently asked me how I write the stories, the posts, I put on my blog. They reveal so much about me, the pain I've endured, the battles I've encountered, the heartaches that have sometimes consumed my life. How do I cut myself open and let the rest of the world watch me bleed? At first, I didn't know the answer to this question. I have a lot of things inside of me, thoughts, words, feelings, and I honestly don't know what else to do with them except write them down. I guess I'm lucky that I have the creative ability to share them in such a way that they might move someone. You see, I know there are other people that exist in this world that have had similar experiences. I believe that most of us are scared to death of revealing too much about ourselves partly because we fear being rejected for what's inside of us, partly because we fear that if we give up too much, we'll lose some part of our lives that we desparately try to keep private. I guess I've never been good at revealing only pieces of myself and keeping other parts hidden. I mean it's easy not to let people in, but it's damn near impossible to want them to know you, see or understand how you ended up strong or compassionate or empathic without unveiling the road that led you to that place. It's a road that I've often waivered from. Hell, it's much easier to paint your life pretty and pretend everything matches the expectations people set for you. I've never liked easy. When I write my fingers move with fluid motion, pouring from them are the pieces of me that I know I must share. I share them to free myself, to make myself strong, to remind myself that every moment of every day I have something to say whether it's just me listening - or the whole damn world. Once, my English professor asked me what I wanted to accomplish with my writing. I told him that I wanted people to read my words and feel something. It didn't matter if it was pity, anger, empathy, happiness, as long as it was something. Think about how many words pass through your day without causing you to feel at all.

I write my life on the pages of this blog so that one day someone might come to me and say, "You know what NWC, I feel something when I read your words and somehow it helped me." If that can happen, I'll know that as hard as it is to rip off my mask, it was all worth the pain.