Write Bravely

I found that quote in one of my books this morning.  I was gathering my books from this semester so I can sell them back and this card stock with that quote fell out.  I picked it up and just kept staring at it. 

Write bravely.

The thing is. these days I haven't had much to write bravely about.  I lie.  I do have stuff to write about:  my childhood, the abuse, my self-esteem, etc., but I am sick and tired of writing about it.  I don't want this space to be all about that.  It's a big part of me that I try to shut up and I notice that it comes out on here too much of the time. 

I want to write about how awesome my life is.  I want to write about how I starve for positive attention.  I want to write about the lies I want to tell you.  The lies I can say about how awesome I think I am, how beautiful I am, what a talented writer I am...but like I said, those are lies.

Isn't that sad?  Aren't I just a sad person?  This sucks.

Lately, I've been reading comments that some of you have left on here and on instagram to my husband.  Comments that tell me that those lies I would tell you are actually truth.  Comments that I should believe.  My husband had something to say about them, "All these people believe in you, babe.  You need to start believing in yourself, too.  I have a project for you."

He wants me to make a collage of all the good things people say about me.  Every time one of you writes about me or comments on something I've showed you, he wants me to print it out and paste it on a board.  I think it's a good idea, but...

But, there's that little voice inside of me that says that I would be boasting.  That voice that says that you say these nice things but don't really mean them.  That voice that says that I'm only fishing for compliments.  That voice that says people are going to get tired of this blog and start avoiding it altogether.

That voice that lies.

Today I write bravely.  I write what I need to say.  I write because I know you read this and shake your head thinking, "Why is she feeling this way?"  I don't know the answer, lovey.  I just know that I need to find it. 

I want you to know something:  Thank you for being here.  I need you to know that I am so grateful for you.  Thank you for reading my thoughts and accepting me.  Thank you.