You’d be surprised at how vulnerable blogging can make you feel. I mean, considering I began this blog to tell people stuff, it’s amazing how much I don’t tell because I’m worried about letting people know what’s going on in my head. There are a number of posts that I’ve just hit the save button and closed down because I’m like,”whoa there – too much – waaay too much info.” I don’t really know who reads this and the idea of someone whose opinion matters to me seeing my rubbish on a page is seriously freaky.

For me, the idea of people seeing through the chinks is terrifying. I’m not sure why, only that instinctively, deep down I know that if they see through the chinks then they’ll be right there, in the freak zone with me. It’s my assumption that they won’t be saying, “Cool! I’m liking this freak zone!” Rather, they’ll be calling people with special suits and large doses of sedative to take me away.

But one day I’m going to have to start being okay with the fact that I’m about the softest person I know, exceptionally sensitive and really desperately scared of being hurt cos I feel a lot. That’s not to say I’m walking around pretending to be someone I’m not; you’re just not likely to know the exact extent of your effect on my life unless I trust you implicitly (i.e. you’re my sister). It’s exceptionally hard for me to let someone know I like them, in any capacity, because they might not like me back. I can listen and support and empathise till the cows come home, it’s easy. What’s not, is talking, because there’s a consequence to my words and there’s a chance it might not be positive.

Why am I bothering to post this? Because I’m trying something new. I’m thinking that if I’m so worried about being vulnerable/transparent/open…trusting then maybe what I need to do is be just that and be really supportive of myself whilst doing it, so that I can learn that the consequences are not always negative.

I’m no longer feeling so shit that I don’t care who knows I’m feeling shit and since this now allows me to lift my head up and look about me a bit, I’m seeing my zero-confidence-in-me-as-a-person-because-I’m-still-waiting-to-come-out-the-other-side, I’m noticing my cynicism developed to protect me from my heart yearning to find someone to love for the person they are and be loved back for that same reason, and I’m thinking that as long as I stop the world from seeing me (including this sickly blog- aargh) by putting up defences and letting nothing out, then how the hell am I ever going to be able to let someone love me for the person that I am? I’ll be so fucking scared that they’ll bugger off once they see past the sea of defences, that I’ll never be able to be me. I know this thinking, it’s happened a lot. I’ve kept my mouth shut, bottled up what’s to be said and hoped that letting the other person get on with doing whatever the hell they want will make them want to stay. It’s not a nice feeling, because you know that basically you’re giving them permission to not respect you at all as it’s obvious you don’t respect yourself to begin with, and it sure as hell doesn’t ensure they stay. (The Ungrateful So and So’s!)

I have to give myself permission to let the feelings out just a little bit more. Baby steps… I hope to one day be able to lay the armour aside and just relax about the whole, “oh hell, they’re gonna see that I want to be loved and that’s what drives pretty much everything I do.” I’m hoping this blog is a step on that road, as scary and as uncomfortable making as it is.

And just to confirm, I am so very aware that pretty much every human is driven by the need to be loved, and that pretty much every human has their crap and therefore what’s underneath the armour is pretty normal. But insecurity is personal. It has a nasty way of making you feel that you’re the only one. And my thinking is that acknowledging it might just help one more person not feel quite so alone and it also gives me permission to share a little bit of me. Two birds (hopefully), one stone…



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