Fear. The thing that holds us back so often.

As open as I am, my deepest secrets I hold dearly. I want to trust others with them, but I haven’t been able to. So I fantasize about writing fiction and hiding in my stories. After all, who’s to say how much is real and how much is fabricated there? Even then I’m hesitant, though. What if those who knew the situations I speak of see my thoughts? What if people just assume it’s all true? (And maybe it is.)

Bravery to be vulnerable. To share those feelings, no matter how painful or silly or uncomfortable it feels. Like songwriters pouring out their souls in their lyrics. I want to be like that too. I want to express myself without censorship. But this is going to take time… maybe I’ll adopt a pen name. Sometimes it’s easier to be an illusion.

It’s a conflict of interest though – am I not sharing myself to connect with others? How can I truly do that if I’m hiding behind a facade? How much honesty is too much? I’m definitely grappling with that. Right now I recognize this weakness and I accept that I don’t know how to deal with it. I’m hoping I’ll get to the point where I’ll embrace it. Will it be liberating when I do? I sure hope so.