What will she say? What will he think? How will they feel?
I was afraid to be myself.
I’ve been taught by parents, by school, by society to conform, to be quiet, to do what I’m told.
I was afraid to share who I am.
The more I explored, the more I questioned key societal norms. But I stayed silent. Afraid.
I waited for someone else to say it. They know more, I thought. They have more influence, more talent. I admired those who were willing to speak.
I had much to say. I thought noone would want to listen. I thought it was not important and I was not important.
I’m still afraid, but just a little less so.
I’m starting to find a voice. I’m starting to tear out pages from Society’s Instruction Manual and replace them with my own scrawls.
Little by little, I’m finding ways to share. I’m finding ways to be myself.
This blog has been me, out there, vulnerable. I’ve shared it with a small number of people. The reaction has been a blessing. I might even say transformative. It has led to deeper discussions, helping me think and rethink. I’ve been questioned, called out, agreed with and laughed at.
I’m learning, little by little that I need to be more me. I know that I’m a speck in a big universe, but that speck needs to be real.
What will she say? What will he think? How will they feel? I don’t know, but let’s find out.
Keep scrawling my friend.
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