If I wrote a list of all the things I’ve learned the hard way, I’d be here all night rambling on about a whole lot that doesn’t matter to most people.
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I’m a very reflective person when it comes to my actions, and unfortunately, I’m a doer before a thinker sometimes. But I’m also an over-thinker prior to making big decisions.
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There is a vulnerability that’s raw and scary when being reflective and writing things to share on a social platform. And it should be said that sometimes I share for me, and sometimes I share for the voiceless that can’t find the words. Writing, for me, has become sort of like peeling away a layer at a time when I feel safe enough to. And that opens one up to mockery, to hate, to frustration, and to wanting to erase every last memory and word in my head, on paper and in my heart.
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But I also preach a lot about being true and authentic, which has become such an overused word anymore. In order to stay true to the path of growth, erasing isn’t an option. So, I pick up the pen and write another word, another sentence, and pump life into these thoughts inside my head with hopes that my experiences maybe help another find their struggling voice.
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The thing we all have to remember about social media is that it usually is just a glimpse into a glamorous moment of a normally mundane life. We aren’t all followed around by fancy cameras posing on mountain tops, or riding horses through big country, traveling exotic places, or glamorizing our lives for others to see in a small square. Life is meant to be lived better than that, and I believe, more locally. Bloom where you are planted.
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Quit looking over fences at what appear to be greener grasses. Wait on your roots to catch up with your wings right where you are at. Weed your own garden, and your flowers will grow💙And that is something that I’ve learned the hard way…