Well shit. The end of this blog is getting real. After tonight, I only have three more posts. Granted, something could happen. I could get sick or die first. But it looks like I’m going to make it. That feels good. At the time time, it’s terrifying. I’ve said it a lot lately, but this blog has been such an anchor for me, the idea of letting go of it feels like cutting all strings. Like I’m about to be drifting at sea. And whereas that’s exciting–I’m free, I can go where the wind blows–it’s like, gosh, I hope I learned how to sail.

I guess that’s it. I’ve gotten into a certain rhythm with this blog, there’s a predictability, a stability in the routine. Granted, it’s not always what I want to be doing, especially when I’m worn out and don’t feel like writing, or when no one pats me on the back for it (I’m big on words of affirmation), but there’s always a comfort, a safety in knowing “I wrote today.” But starting on Tuesday of next week, I won’t have that. Even if I continue writing regularly, I won’t have it in such a public, real-time way. That’s what they say about writing. It’s like telling a joke and having to wait three years to find out if it’s funny. Especially if you’re writing a book, you don’t get that immediate response.

Response is something that’s been on my mind lately. Because although a respectable number of people read my blog every day, Ellen Degeneres still gets more likes when she posts a single picture of a cat than I’ve ever gotten from all my posts combined. Ugh. This is one of the challenges to doing something creative. You can’t compare yourself to others. Well, you can, but it doesn’t do much good. Plus, the truth is that you never know what kind of an impact you’re having on people unless they tell you. And sometimes not even then. The point being that a post that’s read, liked, and taken to heart by one person could do more to change the course of that person’s life for the better than a meme that goes viral.

God works in mysterious way.

One thing I almost never do is plan out my posts. In the beginning I’d think about them all day, looking for that one idea, that one spark. I’d see a mailbox and try to make a life lesson out of it. Eventually all of that went on autopilot. A part of me just knew we needed something to say before the day was over, so it became always on the lookout. Like a radar. But subconsciously. So now it’s to the point where I can almost always sit down, open my laptop, and it–just happens.

All this being said, I have on a number of occasions thought, I really need to talk about THAT before this whole thing is over. Most recently this happened with respect to EMDR (Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing). Since it’s been a big part of my healing, I just wouldn’t have felt right if I’d left it undiscussed. So this week, despite the fact that my therapist says that by this point I’ve put in my dues and could talk about nothing else but farts if I wanted to, I’ve been thinking, What’s left to say? And whereas I have a rough outline for the next three days (sum up what I’ve learned, address my readers, address myself), the only thing I could come up with for tonight was–discuss the process.

The process being what it’s been like to put out and sort through (most) of my baggage in front of others, to talk about where I struggle and what I’m learning in front of God and everybody. Well, it hasn’t been the worst thing. In fact, it’s one of the best things I’ve ever done. Largely because it’s given me a sense of freedom that I didn’t have before. Not because I feel like I’ve vomited on the internet (sorry about your shoes, but, gosh, do I feel better), but because I feel like I’ve been honest. Like, this is who I am as a person. And when you’re honest and upfront about who you are–warts and all–well, you can walk into anywhere and be comfortable. Because you don’t have to worry about being found out. Because you’ve got nothing to hide. Not that you tell everyone everything, but the charade is finally over.

First on the inside, then on the outside.

I would encourage anyone to do this. Drop the charade. Not that you have to start a blog and spill your guts, since I recognize not everyone is comfortable with the attention that comes with posting on the world wide web. Plus, you don’t have to share your journey with hundreds or thousands in order to to have a successful one. But do share your journey with someone. Because nobody gets through life alone. If they try, they suffer. Lately I’ve really been working on this. Letting others help me, hold me. Taking the weight of the world off my shoulders. Letting the world hold its own weight. Indeed, letting go of this blog is one step in this direction for me. Someone else can write every day. I can turn my attention to other projects.

Or just take a damn nap.

In terms of its reception, this blog has been a good experience for me. Meaning I haven’t caught a lot of flack for it, the way some people do on the internet. Granted, I’ve been told what to wear, what not to wear, what to do in my photos, what to say, and what not to say, but these criticisms have been few and far between. And, I think, largely well-intentioned. Even if they weren’t received as such. Either way, oh well. They haven’t changed me. I regularly get crappy comments on some of my dance videos, and I’m still forever glad they’re out there. (The videos, not the comments.) That I’m out there. When you do something creative, when you share yourself with the world, people are going to have SOMETHING to say about it. Because people ALWAYS have something to say. (It’s what we do.) So this is my encouragement to you–

Let them say whatever the hell they want. Just don’t let them stop you from sharing yourself. Your real self. Because however big, however small, the world needs your voice. Your one unique voice that refuses to hide any longer. (Why, Marcus?) Because when one of us stops hiding, it means we all can.

Finally.