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That's really really really what I want

Wednesday, May 11, 2016

I've taken a few weeks away from writing.  A brain vacation I guess.  And I missed you.  And I missed writing my usual posts filled with useless, nonsense news that some of y'all enjoy - and I do, too, to tell the truth.  There is a certain beauty in the everyday happenings of people who look for beauty in everyday happenings.  You may quote me.

But here's the deal.  The last post I published was late on a weeknight - and I didn't really expect giant numbers of readers.  But I still checked.  I checked when I got up to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night.  Because right there - that, all by itself, is a perfect example of what I really am.

I want to be liked.  And truth be told, every time I hit the publish button I decide if it would be best to go ahead and do it - putting myself out there in words and spirit as I try to do - or just take a naked picture of myself and post that instead.  I honestly don't know which would draw the most readers and I don't really want to debate the ins and outs of the option, but you know what I  mean.

Would it be easier for me to bare my naked middle aged body or my soul -  which I do here week after week on the blog.  And fyi.... I actually used to be a big supporter of the bikini.  And it never occurred to me that I was just wearing underwear made of quick dry fabric, until I got a bit older.

Because with age, as with many things, consciousness grows.  We become more learned and more adept at things that we never imagined.  And we begin to use words like adept.

And we start searching for more truth than ever mattered to us before.  Because before, all that mattered was what seemed right and made me feel good about myself as compared to everyone else.  I've always had a bit of an esteem issue.  Still do.  Thank you mom for that.

And the funny part is that I love my front and center microphone on kind of job more than I have words to express.  Husband says I take on an entirely different personality at work than the girl he lives with here.  Right or wrong, I'll always love you... as the great George Strait sings....  and he does.  Thanking my lucky stars for that.

But what I want to find for myself is that same security.  In myself and about myself.  Maybe you remember that I started this blog during a season of stress for me - otherwise known in my memory, anyway,  as the Age of Panic.  Not to be confused with the prehistoric age or the stone age.  And I remember at first when the attacks would happen, that my first instinct was that I was surely gonna die.  Right then and there and hoping that I looked good enough for whatever adorable firemen were going to come to  my aid.  Then my second instinct was to call Fireman Dave.  Because he could always soothe the savage beast and make me 90% sure that I was indeed going to live past the panic.

But I learned quickly that I didn't want to have him on speed dial for every occasion.  First of all, that gets a little tiring as far as wives go.  And second, I wanted to make sure I could handle it myself.  Rather, I wanted to make sure I could handle myself.  So I've learned to calm the beast as she starts to peek around the corner at me, as I feel my breathing to start to race and my heart feel like I'm climbing the world's tallest mountain.  And I learned to take slow breaths because the air is there, even when my mind says it's not.  And I've learned to step away from whatever and whoever, and take a minute to show myself some strength.

But every time I step out there on a bit of courage to share my words, I still feel afraid.  Afraid that no one will read.  Afraid that no one will like.  Afraid that no one will laugh.  Or maybe afraid that you will.  Like David's Goliath, insecurity looks down on me like a giant - looking at a child far too small to do big things.   And that's when I look to the readers to push that ridiculous like button and make me feel a bit bigger about myself.

Y'all, that's not what I want.  But secretly, that's really really really what I want.  And that was the biggest reason for my little blog vacation.  I needed it.  And I needed time to wonder if I still like to do this.  Turns out I do. 

I am thankful for this place, for all the people who give me great things to write about, and for you for being my blogging friends.  It was a short vacation, but long enough for me to find my voice again. 

2 comments:

  1. Kristi – I love your posts. They’re so real and honest. Somehow, I’m drawn to the words you write. I’m interested in your thoughts.
    I have a son who has some issues that sound similar to your youngest. Your writing helps me feel like I’m not alone. I appreciate you putting yourself out there. Your words help.
    This may seem random and weird since I don’t really know you, though I’ve seen you around church back when we used to attend more regularly. Take care…Kellie

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  2. Kellie, if I could hug you right this very second I would. And I would tell you that you are never alone and that no matter the issues with our kids and how many times we threaten to leave it all and move to Hawaii, that we can make it through WHATEVER we need to, because of two beautiful things - grace and mercy. I promise to keep talking and sharing because as weird and embarrassing as it is sometimes, I choose to do it because of comments like this. You are a treasure to me today for reading and for sharing your sweet words. Now let's put on our Super Mom capes and do this job. Or we could just go to Hawaii....

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