So, I haven’t been completely honest with. While that sounds bad, lemme clean that up a bit: I haven’t been exactly authentic as I used to be. When I first started this blog over 5 years ago, I was writing from a very raw, tender place. I didn’t care who was reading or why. I started writing as a way to release my feelings. As things evolved, I decided that maybe what I have to say could help others: and it has. Somewhere along the way, I started becoming dissatisfied with my writing; this was largely in part of being envious of those who started after I did, but with greater “success.” Where did I lose my sense of purpose (as it pertains to writing)? Somehow, I lost my focus.
Honestly, I lost my authenticity.
People responded (and read) more when I was expressing my feelings from a real, authentic place. My struggle of trying to figure out how to monetize what I do impacted my writing. Am I saying that I need to have another set of raw experiences to regain my authenticity? Hell no! I think the tipping point of why I began writing in the first place was enough for me to only experience it once. No way; I’m good.
How did this talk of authenticity come about anyway? I’m glad you didn’t ask but really wanted to know (lol). I was reading The Gifts of Imperfection by Dr. Brené Brown. She was talking about being authentic (letting our true selves be seen), and how we choose to be authentic some days and on other days: not so much.
This next statement stopped me cold. “If I am full of self-doubt or shame, I can sell myself out and be anybody you need me to be.” Damn. Was she talking to me? I felt like she had handwritten that sentence in a note addressed to me. Once I got past the initial shock, the sting of her words crescendoed in next. I understood exactly what she meant; she described me. “Is that really me,” I thought. “The nerve of her, telling me what my problem is! Who does she think she is?” Once that thought was over, the real work began. She was right. I sometimes get caught up into people-pleasing, and as a result, I willfully give away my authenticity. That means I sensor my words, which leads to holding in my true emotions, thus leading to OVERTHINKING. I’ve done this my WHOLE life. The problem with “not being real” is that no one knows what I’m really thinking. It’s almost as being bad as being unreliable, in a sense. Maybe I’m overthinking a bit. I don’t know. BUT because I’ve become more self-aware, I’ve learned to give myself space to be (with tack and care, too).
And now, I think I need some more space.
Love & Peace.