Ever since I started Ashalah and announced to the world that this was me and this was my blog, I have gotten a little lost. It used to be easy to pour my heart out when I was hiding behind the mask of anonymity. No one knew who I was so being vulnerable was easy because I could have been anybody.
Now most people who read (which, sad to say, is not very many at all anymore), know who the writer of this blog really is. Even my mother reads this, proof that Facebook’s privacy settings are a load of crap. (Hi Mom!) Ex-boys I used to date also have access, and while they may not read anymore, the idea that they still could be lurking silences my voice and instead makes me write about recipes, my garden and other fluffy stuff that does not get to the heart of me. Of what is really going on behind the scenes.
Being vulnerable is not a state of mind I ever like to visit. I’m an emotional person, always have and always will be. I wear my heart and emotions right on my sleeve and sometimes I will just lose it. It’s hard enough being told every time you have a breakdown in front of someone that you need to see a therapist. Which says to me: you are not normal for feeling hurt, so hurt you need to cry about it. You need to be fixed. And that’s only from a handful of people. So to admit my weaknesses to the entire Internet and to everyone I know is hard.
My friend Pearl often tells me that I’m one of the strongest people she knows. I know this is true, I know I am strong, stronger than I even give myself credit for but it’s those weak moments that I have to pull myself out of that are the hardest to show. I am woman, hear me roar but only sometimes.
I want to pour my heart out, write the way I used to-so candidly-but the minute I open up a blank screen to start, I am met with a thousand mental road blocks. My “writer’s block” happens the most when I have the most to say. But can’t. it falls into that evil lair where I care what people think of me, even though I shouldn’t.
I have one loud demon sitting on one shoulder telling me I will get judged for how I feel and what I say on here. That how I’m feeling is weak and people are just going to judge you. I have an angry woman on the other side yelling about how I’m allowed to feel this way and who cares what other people think? It’s a fun war they wage on each other but in the end the demon always wins because I do care what people think of me.
There is so much I want to write about. There are exciting big changes under way that will reveal themselves over time but there’s also this silent heart-hurting and frustration and loneliness playing on a constant loop in my head, wanting to be let out but not having an outlet to do so. That outlet should be this blog but it isn’t anymore. And that makes me sad.
Blogging used to be this great, useful tool for me. This best friend of sorts that I could talk for hours with. When this was the case, my writing and blogging glowed. But ever since I revealed myself, my blog has become a mere acquaintance, my writing has fallen away. I have a hard time opening up and trusting people I don’t know. I have always had a hard time being myself with people I’m not close with and now that I have made my blog a virtual stranger, I can’t be myself around it.
I’m not sure how to get that back. How to get more comfortable with my corner of the web and not care what people think. I don’t want to have to close down this blog (because it’s a lot less panic inducing being un-anonymous and knowing that everyone and your mother reads than being anonymous and not knowing if they have discovered you) but how do I get past these mental blockades I have set up all over this blog?