I don’t need thousands of people to read my words, all I want to do is touch even one person’s life in a significant way.
I’m done comparing myself to everyone else. I just spent the evening reading the blog of an acquaintance. She has a few thousand followers on facebook, I don’t even have a facebook page. I don’t really see the point in that. Not for me. Not for this blog. And that’s okay.
I write because it gives me joy. I write because I sometimes need to get things off my chest, or I have thoughts I want to share. Maybe I’ve been caught up in the idea of so many people wanting to read my words.
I really, truly and genuinely appreciate every single one of you who has read my blog, liked and commented. Don’t get me wrong, you guys are amazing and it’s very encouraging to hear your thoughts and kind words. However, I don’t want to blog just for approval and reassurance.
I don’t want to beat myself up because my blog isn’t as professional as so-and-so’s. I’m not that person, and this isn’t their blog. It’s me. I don’t need to get some random predetermined number of likes in order to be of value, I just need to be me. Maybe I’ve been too caught up in the ideals of blogging.
And this all sounds silly because I don’t feel as though I’ve carried that into this blog. I’ve had others in the past, and I’ve given up on every single one of them. Maybe that’s why. I couldn’t stick with it because I wasn’t being true to who I am. Instead I was trying to fit into someone else’s mold.
I’ve been doing a lot of thinking on this matter for quite some time now. I’ve been walking in other people’s shadows because it’s easy, or because I idealize them and devalue myself. But that’s really such a silly thing to do.
I guess I don’t fully know what I’m saying here, I’m really tired and I have a lot of thoughts. I guess, for once, I just want to be comfortable in my own skin. I’m so worn down from trying to be what everyone else wants me to be. All it does is tear me down from the inside out.
I don’t need popularity, I guess I’m just looking for love. Not from others as it may seem, but I desperately long to forgive myself.
I guess I feel like the girl in The Last Sin Eater (excellent movie, by the way). If you haven’t seen it, I don’t want to spoil it.
Love and forgiveness. Maybe in some way they’re really the same thing. I don’t know. What I do know is that I need to learn to accept myself. If I don’t, it doesn’t matter how many others do, I’d still be unhappy.
Sometimes, after we’ve been wounded, the wrapping comes off and we still see a bloodied scab. We wish that it was healed already, isn’t that what the bandaging was supposed to do? To heal?
Wounds are still fresh, though not quite bleeding, not unless they’re torn open again. And that is where I am. Staring at the blood, frightened by the sight, feeling as though I should have moved past it by now.
“Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words leave psychological wounds that may never heal.”
Thank you all for bearing with me. It means so much to me.
Learning to forgive is different than forgetting. There are times where trust ought not to be granted. I want to be able to trust people, it’s harder for me now. Now that I have a (slightly) clearer view, I’m learning that I should have trusted my intuition all along. I’m learning to trust it again.
Even in those times, I need to trust in God. When I am weak, He is strong. Maybe that’s what trust means for me tonight.