Me: "Dear writing gods, forgive me for I have sinned. It has been five months since I last posted on my blog." Writing Gods: "My daughter what has caused you to leave your creativity to gather dust?" Me: "Fear."
Ernest Hemingway once said that there is nothing to writing, you just sit down to the typewriter and bleed.
I find myself with a fear of blood.
There was a time when I bared and bled the pains and humiliations of my life on this blog, sometimes at the behest of my family. I felt no embarrassment because I believed I was giving a voice to things that others felt but never had the nerve to say out loud. But even in my transparency I was still writing through the lens of what certain people would think.
In the spirit of honesty I’ll just say who those “certain people” are, my Christian friends and acquaintances who have always been so great with reading and supporting my blog. So I made sure to stay conservative. But some things have happened in my life that felt too raw to share. Things that could possibly offend or concern my Christian community.
I used to revel in the task of organizing my thoughts on paper and getting them out of my head, however there is finality in writing. Once I write something down then it’s real, and I can no longer deny that this is how I feel or what I’ve decided. Blogging is a public forum and there is potential for negative commentary from others.
Despite these facts I’m still driven by this need to comfort those who might be experiencing the same thing and find vindication for myself.
Writing is a part of me. And just like any other creative pursuit it has to come from a real place to be impactful. I can’t edit certain parts of my life to please anyone. It’s my experience and no one can take that away from me.
So I guess this is me apologizing to the writing gods, this blog, my readers, and most importantly myself for not using my gift. I will do better, promise. ♥