Still Processing

One of the joys of writing a blog is that because it's so public--it forces you to have a bit of discretion when writing about other human beings.

I have enjoyed this because it forces me to find positive things to write about--even when I haven't felt particularly positive. I've also tried to write more about feelings and less about the events.

I think all of us can relate to feelings and the purpose of writing these blogs is to discover and share in our shared humanity. So, I write about the feelings and I leave out the details of the events.

And usually when I find myself thrown face down in the proverbial mud, I try to bounce back pretty quickly. But right now, I just don't want to.

It's been a particularly difficult past couple of weeks.

I feel like I had to face all the things I'm very bad at--and I failed at all of them. I feel like I've had to look in the mirror at all of my fears about myself--and I can no longer convince myself that everything is fine. That I'm fine.

When I was in the 5th Grade, I felt like my friends didn't really want to be my friend--but that they pitied me somehow. Why would I feel this way? That's ridiculous! But sometimes these same feelings rise up inside of you--and 20 years later--the same insecurities rear their ugly head.

When I was 13, I had my first kiss. He and I have since become good friends, but that night I thought that a kiss meant that he liked me. I thought that it would translate into something new and fun. After kissing me, he told me not to tell anyone about it. Twenty years later, I find I'm still the girl that the guy wants to kiss secretly, but I'm not good enough for him to hold my hand in public.

When I was 20, I met a great guy and became wonderful friends with him. We did everything together. He wanted to share his dreams, his insecurities, his ambitions with me. But he never saw me as more than a friend. I was good enough to make him feel better about himself--but not good enough to love in return. And 10 years later, the pattern repeats itself again.

To see these patterns all repeat themselves within the course of a week--it's too much to bear. And it's difficult to convince yourself that it isn't you.

Something in me has to change. It has to change. But I don't know what.

My first step is to stop trying to fix things and just let myself exist. I just need to be for a bit.

If I can just exist for a little bit, I might find that healing sneaks in from out of the woodwork. I might find that when I let go and just stop trying that life itself can beautifully and miraculously bring elements of joy that carefully caress your heart and dispell all the angst and feelings of pain. With faith, existing can be almost proactive!