Something happened to me recently that really brought me down. It's personal, way more than blog personal, so I'm not going to talk about it here. What I am going to talk about it this: honesty in my writing. I felt so down about what's been going on that I didn't want to write. Wait, check that. I desperately wanted to write, but I knew my writing wasn't going to be upbeat and perky and I decided that would only bum people out, so I kept silent. And then this happened; a realization.
"And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom." Anais Nin
And I realized that keeping silent about my feelings and stifling them was really only hurting me, because I really could have used the outlet, even if I didn't bore everyone to tears, (or move them to tears) with my personal junk. Being a writer isn't, for me, all about only writing the good and happy stuff, but also the, pardon my Meredith Gray reference, dark and twisty stuff. Sometimes, I'm dark and twisty. And I think that's okay. I'm not always going to be happy, I'm not always going to be the perfect mother, the perfect wife, the perfect anything. Sometimes, things are going to happen that knock me for a loop. And when they happen, I'm going to write about them. I'm going to write because sometimes it's the only way to get this stuff out of my gut and into the light. I hope no one will be offended by that. I hope that you will understand that sometimes my life isn't picture perfect, and realize that it's okay.