Month: May 2013

My last blog felt nice.  It felt real nice.

I got a lot of really great feedback and you don’t know how much I appreciate anyone taking the time to read anything I write, let alone respond with their own experience or words of encouragement.  It is equal parts spectacular and humbling. I love the rush I feel when I hit “publish” and I know that someone, even just one person, is reading what I wrote.  It’s special.

Writing is not easy.  Not the kind of writing that I want to do, anyway.  It’s not easy to always get in touch with that honest side of yourself and not care what other people think when they read it.  It’s not easy to write anything and make it sound good enough to post publicly.   My honesty toes the line of going too far when I write about personal experiences, and I know that.  I’m not trying to be the Taylor Swift of blogging or anything, I’m just writing what comes to me because it makes me feel better and helps me gain much-needed perspective.

Writing is scary.  Much like what happened with my last blog, that perspective leads to examining feelings and parts of myself that I typically keep under lock and key.  It doesn’t always have to be that serious, though.

So many people said to me, “You need to blog more often” and I would love to.  Consistency is great!  However, I’m never sure what to write about.  I hit and miss on dating, lack of dating, and all of the ins and outs that come with that, but I don’t always know what to write about beyond that.  I don’t want to write about sports, because that’s not what this is about.  Here’s where you come in…

Brainstorm!  Throw any and all topics at me.  Privately, in comments on Facebook, in @replies on twitter, or in the comments section here on the blog.  If you build it, I can write it.  I’m just kidding, I just need a little push to help me along.

There’s already so much about this year that I wish I could change.  That’s an interesting place to be in May.  People always say, “Don’t regret anything because it taught you something.” or some flowery garbage like that, but I don’t know if that’s true.  Some things, some situations, I’m not sure they teach you anything other than the fact that you probably should’ve been smarter.  So, I guess that’s something?  However, I don’t know that I’d consider it ‘being taught’ when I already knew it in the first place.  I should’ve been smarter, I should’ve been more guarded, I should’ve done a lot of things differently.  Hindsight, you know.

I’m not good at feelings.  I’m good at sports (I mean, not literally…), I’m good at laughing, I’m good at embarrassing myself, I’m good at being sarcastic, I’m good at being angry, I’m good at being silly, but I’m not good at serious anything, especially feelings.  For all the things I can do with words, expressing myself seriously is not often one of those things.  I’m not even talking about romantic crap, because God knows that doesn’t exist in my life, I’m just saying in general.  There are so few people that get those serious admissions, and even then, I know I’m a mess. I guess that has everything to do with not knowing how to let people in, getting worn down, and then getting burnt.

But, everyone gets burnt.  Everyone.  There’s not one person in friendships, in relationships, in life that hasn’t been hurt at the hands of another human being.  We use that as an excuse to not get close to someone, to not let others in.  One of the points I always make is that I hardly ever let people in, and when I do, it always comes back to bite me.  But, is that good enough?  Is that enough to make a person stop seeking friendships, stop trusting people, and to stop trying?  Do those poor experiences outweigh the positive experiences? Do they outweigh the people who have been the exception and not the rule?  I don’t want to feel that way about it anymore.  I’m not saying to trust people blindly because that’s just silly, but if someone gives you reason to believe they’re legitimate, maybe you should.  Maybe I should.

Maybe I should’ve been smarter, but maybe it’s okay that I wasn’t.  And maybe I’m better at serious feelings than I thought.