Write or wrong.

Write or wrong… this is my way. Inside of me I know I am supposed to write, to share and to bring others along in this journey. When I write it down I can see it, I can see the crazy string of thoughts, wonders, feelings and ideas come out. It is when I am most clear. Putting my thoughts down, whether for all to see or just for me, lifts weights from my brain, heart and shoulders. I feel lighter and more me…

When I wait to share something, something I know I need to share, I feel it. I can feel the heavy that comes with carrying my hurt and feelings and hard things… it is a gift to get to write it and give it up. I feel like I am not being honest to life when I don’t share this way. Inside of me I know that there is something in this journey that God wants me to share. There is something important for me to see and to learn, He wants me to share the good, the bad, the hard, the light, the happy and the grief.

Don’t get me wrong, as good as I can feel after writing down lots of my guts and exposing my heart… I sometimes feel naked. I feel like I walk into the grocery store and have nothing on… I have no armor or clothes to feel comfortable and safe in. I don’t think it is bad for us to feel naked though… not that I plan to go to Hannaford with no clothes on. I think getting ‘naked’ is a way to be vulnerable, to be a little unsafe and know that we are carried. Even in my most naked moments, when I gave the most of me… something kept me safe and stood in front of me with a towel. Sometimes it costs a lot to be naked in front of many… giving my insides away on the outside. I am blessed that so many can understand that… they let me walk around in my naked safely and with my towel guard up (I can not show all of my wobbly bits…).

Every time a connection is formed from a piece I write, about Madeline, death, living, divorce, grief, separation, infidelity… I know this is why I am here. I am here for those who can’t share and be naked. I am here for those wives, moms, dads… those people who need to see that someone got to the other side (though I am far from the other side of some of those things). I remember when Madeline died I didn’t know I could live, it made no sense that life could go on without her. It was a whirlwind that didn’t make sense. I knew that there was no way life could be livable or enjoyable… and then I started reading a blog by another mother. Gina’s daughter, Catie, died in 1998… the year Madeline passed away Gina’s husband died. I saw her and I saw her still living, not just surviving, but living. She could see good, happy and positive… and I know has her share of hard times. I needed to see someone else live through this to know that I can to. I needed to see someone else not just survive this but LIVE and share… and know that life is still good. Her humor and honesty has helped me in ways she will never even know. That connection was so important. When my words make a connection like that… I know I am doing the job I need to do in this.

I share because others can not. There is nothing wrong with not sharing, as long as you are not hiding things or pushing them away to not feel them. I meet many families with amazing angels that are honored in their own special way. I meet many families who take a leave of absence from life for a while when they lose their child or marriage. I see families put away bits of their lovely or ex when they are gone to move on the way they need. I see all of it… and none of it is wrong. We all do this differently… I just have to do this my way. Something in me is built to share- it builds me, it builds others.

Write or wrong. I write. I love the part of me that was created to share, to write. I was built this way. In third grade, the only teacher up to that point who helped build me, told me that I was a writer. I was a storyteller. I forgot this fact along the way… but it is all coming back to me. I make some mistakes, I am a terrible speller and I am human, but I know what I am doing is what He wants me to do. He made me with a voice and love of building relationships… He wants me to use those gifts. This is me. I am just doing this the way I was made… write or wrong.


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