Tonight’s post is number 364 (in a row). That means it’s the next-to-last post for “year one.” Wow. First of all, what a trip. Second of all, tomorrow is the big day. To use an analogy I got from my friend Bonnie, I feel like a high school senior. Like, I’m graduating. (I feel like I should have a ceremony with a cap and gown to celebrate, but I’ll probably just drink a beer instead.) And yes, just like a high school senior, everyone is asking me, “What are you going to do next?”
My answer: Hell if I know.
As I’ve contemplated my last few posts for this year, part of me feels like looking back. Several months ago I told myself that I was going to go back and re-read all my previous posts before the one-year mark, maybe do a “highlight reel.” Remember that time I was in a car wreck and later cried in my driveway while listening to Bette Midler? Well, that hasn’t happened. I still intend to re-read everything at some point, but not before tomorrow. Also, I’ve considered using my last couple of “year one” posts to discuss what’s happened this last year in terms of my site statistics and talk about some of my personal rules for blogging–things I absolutely insist on doing or not doing every time I sit down at this keyboard. Lastly, I’ve thought about listing my goals, what I’d like to see happen next. And whereas I do intend to do these things “soon and very soon,” I’ve decided not to do them until after March 30th (that’s tomorrow).
My reason for waiting to deviate from my current format is that I’d like to finish out this year the same way I began it. A year ago I remember going to the library and starting this project–just me, my laptop, and an idea. My primary goal at the time was to develop a daily writing practice, and that much I’ve done. My secondary goal was to stick to a theme–my life, my search for truth and authenticity, my mental and physical well-being. This is why, even when I meet someone else with an incredible story, I never talk about them unless there’s a direct application to something I’m dealing with. If my blog’s theme were “incredible people I’ve met,” that would be a different matter.
My story is our story.
Sometimes I look at the number of people who have read this blog since I started it and think, Meh. Other times I think, Holy crap! Honestly, the fact that anyone reads it on a consistent basis (which some people tell me they do–thanks, Mom) blows me away because this is clearly a blog about me, and I don’t find my day-to-day life all that interesting. But I guess what is interesting are some of the things I deal with or struggle with, things like balance, boundaries, growing up, letting go, patience, and self-acceptance–since these are things WE ALL struggle with. In short, if someone finds a connection here, surely it’s only because my story is our story.
My therapist says that when one person lives authentically, they give other people permission to live authentically also. Like, if you wear what you want to wear every day (because YOU like it) and don’t give a shit about what society thinks, you somehow communicate that others are free to decide what’s best for themselves. Likewise, even if you have to keep a friend at arm’s length because they’re overbearing or rude or whatever, you’re modeling healthy behavior to both your friend and anyone else who cares to notice. Of course, in both examples, you’re primarily taking care of (and loving) yourself, which is the main thing.
This afternoon a friend and I were discussing authenticity and the blog, and she said she thought I was brave, that it was a big deal to put myself “out there.” So I’ve been thinking about this today, like, Do I think of myself as brave?
Uh, sort of, not really.
Y’all, I get that what I’m doing here may sometimes seem like a big deal. Like, not everyone would get on the internet and talk about their sexuality, their crush on Zac Efron, their Dad having been in prison, their mom’s cancer, or whatever they happen to be nervous, thrilled, or angry about on any given day. But just so I’m clear, I don’t sit down and write about this stuff intending to brave. Sure, there are times it takes a deep breath and an internal pep talk in order for me to hit the “publish” button, but being brave is always a secondary consideration. The main thing–the primary consideration for me–is always, “Am I going to be honest?”
As I recall, this question presented itself to me in my very first post, which included a story about how I ran into a man who had previously hit on me. At that time, I knew I wanted to start the blog, but I hadn’t planned on “coming out” my very first day as a blogger on the world-wide web. But there it was on day one, and I was either going to honestly talk about what went on in my day and in my life or I wasn’t. Having spent most of my life being vague or private about my sexuality (and even having lied about it years ago), and likewise having been largely unsatisfied with the results of that behavior, I mustered enough courage to try something different–the plain, simple, unadulterated, this-is-me, take-it-or-leave-it truth.
What a novel concept.
Perhaps bravery is simply having run out of better options.
Joseph Campbell says, “The cave you fear to enter holds the treasure you seek.” In my experience, this is true. (I hate it, but it is.) For all the times I’ve been afraid to hit “publish” and did, it’s paid off a hundredfold. For every time I’ve questioned whether or not to share my authentic truth or experience and did, I now look back and think, Why did I even hesitate? That’s what a positive experience it’s been for me. Now I think, Why did I wait so long (to quit that job, tell someone to fuck off, or wear what I want to)? Yes, it takes courage or bravery to step into the cave you fear to enter. But I know from personal experience that when you’re absolutely worn out by everything else NOT working, that’s when you’re also the the most willing to step into the shadows. Perhaps this is what bravery really is–simply having run out of better options, being so totally frustrated by the outside world that all you can do is go within.
[The dog in tonight’s photo belongs to one of my dance students and is named CoCo, which is one of my nicknames and the “author name” I use on this blog. Curiously enough, CoCo and I have become fast friends.]
Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)
"When you’re authentic, your authenticity is enough. You don’t need to compare."