The How and Why

Teeth brushed, pajamas on and weary-eyed I snuggle under the blanket on the couch and type. The apartment is relatively quiet with all but one roommate asleep and the soft acoustic music gently flows throw the headphones into my mind. This is how I write.

Once in awhile as my fingers stroll across the keyboard, grasping for the right word, I wonder if what I'm saying is something I should let the whole word see. I don't know completely if I'm comfortable enough with myself to let the whole world read everything I write. Also, I don't believe I should share everything, and some of the most personal I keep for myself. But once in awhile there is something boarder line and I find myself wondering if it is alright to share. This post may be one of those. Not because it holds deep hidden secrets or because I'm afraid of judgement or advice, but because I'm scared to face the truth. If I let it be written I can no longer deny it, that is the power of words.

I folded my comforter over the white sheet and began to gather up the assortment of pillows. I'd just finished a detailed conversation with some of the girls about the boys they are dating. Dating. Wow, there is something I haven't done in awhile. It's weird to think that for the entire time I've been friends with these girls I haven't seriously dated anyone. Back in the day I was a skilled flirter and the queen of undefined relationships. I had one very defined relationship. It was such innocent childlike love, as all first loves should be. Slowly I realized that happily ever afters don't come at age 16 and I hated that, and myself for feeling like that. Following I had a series of undefined relationships where I avoided DTRs like the plague, suffering myself to deep confusion instead. And now? How did I get from bouncy, flirty, happy-go-lucky-aura to what I am today? Of course I'd asked myself countless times before why I wasn't dating anyone. After all, I attend BYU. I blamed it on various things, saying that I was chubby or ugly. I'm not saying this to get you to deny the claim, but to be honest. I'm a woman and I've found that often our deepest insecurities haunt us as Marley does Scrooge, and it's always Christmas eve. As I placed the decorative pillows in their proper place the reason hit me. Somewhere along the way I stopped letting people in, and stopped opening myself up. I became afraid. Afraid of rejection, embarrassment, of not being good enough when someone knows me that completely, of pain, and mostly of getting hurt.

This conclusion is completely true, and from the second I push "Publish Post" I will not be able to deny it to myself any longer. It scares me to share this, but I'm going to. I'm not fully sure why but I feel like I can't face my fears until I acknowledge that I have them. So, as a part of my New Years resolution to get back up, and move on I'm admitting my fear, and praying for the opportunity to face it. After all, with humility on my part my weaknesses will be made strong by Him. And if it takes being scared, and sharing that to become stronger and happier then I'm willing to.

This right here-what you just read is a little peace of my soul. This piece I keep inside and work out of my heart into the world through words, tears and soft music. This piece holds truth and fear and makes me strong yet vulnerable at the same time. This piece is why I write.