Let it Scare You Just a Little Bit

I was a prolific blogger.  Past life. A life that doesn't exist anymore. I wrote heart and soul to fill pages and pages of blankness with my thoughts, my feelings, myself. I made friends. Followed other blogs. Shared comments generously. I was one of them.  My blogs were personal. My heart a window thrown open to the world offering a peek deeply into my life, my soul.  I shared it all, bared my soul with those of you who would consider it a gift to be invited in. 

The truth, I always held back.  It may not have seemed that way to a reeling audience watching as my mind and my first marriage unraveled. I did it publicly and then it died, my blog, not me. I thrived. The safety of pulling my life back into a semblance of privacy was like pulling weeds away from a garden plant. I got sun and water and air and in that space and nourishment I could grow into a better person, a person healed. 

Now the writing, it calls me to risk again.  Peeling back the layers of myself for public consumption is aversion therapy for the people-pleaser that resides within.  My one goal, to be courageous and try to write in a way that scares me a little.