Who am I, and why am I choosing to publicly post my blogs rather than keep a personal journal. For as long as I can remember, I have always kept a personal journal. My love for writing had me jotting down my most wildest ideas and happenings. As years passed, I’d leave my current journals stacked so that they were always within my reach during moments of inspiration. Young and naive, I actually believed that since it was my own personal journal, nobody would ever see it. I viewed my journals with respect, a respect that I felt everyone else shared as well. Reading another person’s journal was like breaking one of the Ten Commandments in my book. It should not be done, period. Foolish of me to think such a thing.
Much to my disappointment, I was brought to the realization that others were reading my journals. The anger, hurt, and disappointment I felt ripped me apart. How could they? Why would they? What right do they have to just take another persons belongings and use it for their own personal pleasure. It hurt me, it made me withdraw and close up, and I stopped writing. I felt I could never trust the journal system ever again.
I closed up my feelings, along with the pages of my life’s books. I was no longer able to express myself, and I carried everything with me day by day. The weight of so much on my shoulders broke me down one day, and slowly I reached for my journal again. I grabbed a pen, opened the book, and just stared at the blank pages. Fear crept up inside me as I tried to find a way to write what I wanted to write, but at the same time conceal the parts that I didn’t want anyone to read. Just write some things, but not all, my mind was saying to me. How can I write if I can’t express myself freely. It’s impossible! So I closed the pages once again.
Then one day it all began to make perfect sense. I realized that people were reading my journals because they cared. The stories, the emotions, the experiences that I recorded on the pages were things that my loved ones wanted to share with me. They weren’t doing it to be cruel, they weren’t doing it to be disrespectful. They simply wanted to know more about me. They kept coming back to read more and more because it brought them closer to me. All of me, Teresa Marie, was there in words and stories between the lines. These pages were my life, laid out, nothing held back. I thought to myself….why should I hold back? Maybe walks of my life can help somebody out there, if they only knew what I’d been through. Maybe something I felt so deeply about, is the same thing someone else feels, but they don’t know how to express themselves. Maybe my life’s stories can help the people I love the most. Maybe instead of keeping a personal journal, I can start a public blog for all to read.
This folks is why I blog. I have to get my stories out. I want to share them with the world.
Writing…it’s simply who I am.