Last week I did something I was not confident about. Spurred on by a conversation with a couple friends, I shared a link to my blog on my Instagram page. I wanted to make a commitment to myself and this project, but this was a difficult step to take. It was easy for me to think about random people stumbling across my blog and reading about me, and comforting to know that my closest friends were reading my weekly publications, but for people just outside the close friend sphere yet not strangers to know so much more, without an information transaction? That felt huge. I was afraid people would find me trite for starting a blog, think I was an over-sharer, be confirmed of their suspicions that I am an unworldly dweeb, or make judgements about my moral standing.
And the thing that I was most afraid of happened: my grandma saw it and started following my blog. Leading up to this decision, I was torn about how I would share my blog and who I would share it with. I did not want any reason to censor what I was writing. That would feel counterproductive to the mission of opening up about my life. I did not want to sit down with my computer, open a word document, and have my grandma pop up on one shoulder and my inner thoughts on the other and wonder “how can I please both of these forces?” You know how “they” say not to put anything on the internet that you would not be okay with your grandma seeing? Well, I am living in that world now, and it will be a test of my integrity as to whether or not I will continue to write about anything and everything that has been occupying my mind.
I am also aware that the things I write could have an impact over other people, and although it is not my responsibility, I do not want others to hurt when the read what I have shared. I worried that some of my family members might assume the burden of trying to save my soul. I do not worry about my soul, and I do not want anyone else to, either. I figured I could protect them from any sense of duty by being less forthcoming, to the extent that I am more closeted about being non-Christian than I am about being gay.
It felt exciting to share my blog post. I got a lot more readers last week, which is not really why I started a blog, but it is also an example of me being bolder. Self-promotion is awkward. It is a hard line to walk, and it is hard to admit that I want to be noticed. It feels improper. There is a part of me that is saying, “Sit down. Keep this small. That’s good enough.” That could be true. But am I backing away in search of what is right, or in search of what is comfortable? Maybe I need to make myself uncomfortable. Maybe it is time to let go of “proper.” Maybe it is okay to feel awkward. I put a lot of time into my work, and my goal is to share parts of my life that I have kept private in the past. That will sometimes feel awkward. However, I know from experience, that it will also feel empowering.
I do not promise you, my reader, that you will never feel awkward. I also do not promise that you will never feel hurt when you read what I write. I do not promise to be proper, or modest, or agreeable.
I do promise to be honest. I will tell my truth as well as I can. I will never intentionally hurt anyone. I will share both large and small moments. I promise to be me.