Sometimes when I write I feel no one is there and this is good. It feels un self-conscious
But sometimes when I write I wonder how you will feel.
I think about you and how you will interpret what I say.
Sometimes I know you will find me obnoxious, other days I will touch you, speak for you, inspire you, offend you or piss you off. Sometimes maybe I embarrass my family a little.
Sometimes I wonder will I ever regret so much sharing?
And then, every now and then, I get a note like this
“I have been following your blog for about a year now, and cannot tell you how much it has meant to me as I have navigated through an unexpected separation. It’s funny, I’m sure people tell you all the time, but I feel like I know you, and so much of what you have written has come into my inbox exactly when it was needed! I’m sure you have no idea how many lives you have impacted in sharing your story… but surely count mine as one of them!
In a time where I have felt very alone, reading about the experiences of someone who has gone through this journey and come out better on the other side has been a great source of inspiration. There are days when it has been very tough to imagine anything positive that could come out of this scenario, and the simple act of reading about someone who seems to have been able to rebuild in such a strong way, and who hasn’t lost her sense of humour along the way, has been a great motivator. Never question whether your words are “landing”… I suspect they are landing in a much more far reaching manner than you know. “
Thank you CB. It means so much to know this.
A few years ago I got to a dinner party late due to a series of unfortunate events. There was only one seat left-I hated to be the one to make the table look uneven (now I could care less so don’t stop inviting me)- and it was beside people I don’t particularly like. I didn’t create a scene but sat down at their end dutifully. I made light conversation asking them about hockey schedules with their boys , school, trips, and the weather. Just when I was about to fall asleep with my eyes open, they jumped into my personal life. How was I managing? When would I be putting my house on the market? Was I lonely? How was my sex life?
It is important to mention that these people are mere acquaintances and somehow while I was only on their front porch asking politely for a cup of sugar, they were upstairs trying to rummage around in my underwear drawer.
I smiled. I looked right at them and said “How are you managing? When are you going to put your house on the market? Are you lonely? How is your sex life?
I got a small bit of wicked pleasure knowing my answers-which I never gave- were likely better than theirs.