Never knowing what to say…

My entrance into the blogger world happened by accident. Not many people know the story. It’s short, so I’ll share:

I wanted to be a writer for as long as I could remember. When I was trying to leave my job, this idea of finding the perfect career engulfed me. Therefore, it engulfed all of my friends, relationships, conversations, thoughts… So one day I’m talking to Be The Power who was taking me down the list of things I should do to get a new career. Finally, I mentioned writing. He said, probably before and after calling me “crazy”…

“If you want to be a writer… then write.” Wow. Pretty simple. And he was right.

I set up my humble little blog, told like two people that it was there, and started blogging. Two years later, my colleague invites me into her blogging circle. Two months after that I’m hanging out with some prominent DC bloggers at a blogger happy hour, and getting mentioned on College Grad Real World, by a perfect stranger. Kind of amazing.

What people don’t tell you is that there is so much to learn about the blogging world. What to talk about, what to comment on, who to trust… How much to divulge in what way, leaving out what details… Who is friends with whom, who is like what in real life, who to stay away from.

There are so many implications of putting your life out for the world, and they don’t tell you that in blogger-school. So anyway…

I came home to write my weekend blog. I had a lot to say. I had a fabulous weekend. But recently I’ve realized that blogging about people in my life can be hurtful. And can hurt. So I decided to forgo my weekend blog about all the things I actually want to say and succumb to my fear of being judged… upsetting someone inadvertently… saying the wrong thing.

I started looking through my old writing, seeing if there was anything I could recycle. Finding old poems that mean so much to me, unable to post them for fear they will be misunderstood… their meaning from so long ago projected onto my life now.

Unlike my blogging, my poetry is something I have never let anyone read. Not cover to cover. Generally not ever. But I found this poem I wrote in college. It’s not “good poetry” but it’s mine. And maybe this is the first step I take in finally opening up, not caring, and showing the world who I really am without the fear of judgment.

The first in a long time.
The last for a while.
The fleeting thought
Of a passing smile.
The strange idea
That’s life’s worthwhile.
The first in a long time
The last for a while.

The first in a long time
The last for this week.
The speech I heard
That made me weep.
The cry I have
Before I sleep.
The first in a long time.
The last for this week.

The first in a long time
The last time I hope
I had this idea
I just can’t cope.
The endless laughter
Cause I’m a joke
The first in a long time
The last time I hope.

Thank you. For… everything.

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