I'm Writing this for Me
In the last three years or so, I’ve been staring at myself in the mirror telling myself in my brain that I am a certain way, but never following through because I still don’t believe it.
When people tell me the truth of what they see in me, I end up feeling like both a sprouting and wilting flower because I still don’t believe it. This is hard, because in my brain and in my writing, it is so easy to sound or look like I’ve made it to the ultimate confidence in myself, but often times, I find that I am still falling short.
I know the truth in my head and I write like I know it, but I don’t live like it and I dream of the day my outer life finally measures up with the writing and inner working I live.
If I’m living like it, I take that chance. I go after the thing I’ve been saying I’ll go after for years. Yet, as soon as I get to the edge — whatever that may be, a word, a random thought, a phone call — I stop and take a million steps back because that’s where it’s safe. Most of the time it’s really obvious when I’m doing it because I’ll stop myself mid-sentence from actually saying the things I want to.
The plateau before the edge? That’s where no risk on being seen happens, and in that place I am safe and nothing can hurt me.
I love people that are the opposite of this. I try to stick myself around them in hopes that I may somehow learn how to be a risk-taker. I love that despite how afraid these people may be, how whatever they feel, they still take that risk on themselves and jump no matter what the outcome might be. Even if they were to fall flat and splatter like a pancake, that wouldn’t stop them from jumping. They still tell the person they like how they feel without thought about the possible rejection and confusion that would ensue afterward. They still live loudly and don’t worry about how annoying they might be.
They live like the interruption the rest of the world needs.
How can that be? An interruption?
Is it possible the world needs an interruption in the form of me being exactly as I am?
Have you ever noticed that people stop and look at interruptions? Whether it be traffic cops directing traffic in residential neighborhoods or accidents on highways, the people passing by create the interruption by stopping to look at it in wonder.
It’s the same idea with people: When people are uniquely themselves and don’t feel that pressure to change or be anything different, people stop and wonder at that.
I feel like I’ve been constantly trying to figure out what it is that makes me a good interruption. What is it? I’ve been asking myself this question for years and years and have come to no conclusion, which leaves me feeling more confused than content with where I am at.
I like a lot of things, including people and writing about them. I love capturing moments. I love writing about those moments. I love traveling. I love coffee and tea. I love God. I love music and worship. Mostly, though, I love words and quality time. How do I hone in on all of those things and expect to make a living?
I know this life has got to be more than just settling for something that leaves me feeling empty and void.
Maybe living fuller means blooming? Maybe living fully means recognizing that it will never be a fast, short, and easy process, but a slow, long, and beautiful one? All I do know is that in the end, the pain of remaining exactly where I am in constant flow of no direction and back and forth is more painful than honing in on the very thing that I’ve been dreaming of for years and years and not taking a risk on it.