Confession

     In my last post, I posted a tidbit about the pervasive experience of fear that consumes me. I further concluded that this was the fear of uncertainty. In essence, it was an abrupt conclusion in an effort to quiet the running internal conversations that were trying to forge their way out of my mind. I wanted to keep them there.
     As I was writing about fear, I became afraid of my own nakedness. Afraid that by expressing my thoughts publically, I would be forging intimacy with the remainder of the world. That when the world sees me, they will know me, recognize me, and expose me. What is it that I am holding on to that has me embrace such paranoia?
     As I wrote about my concern of being exposed, I thought about the countless writers and artists who have shared this paranoia and went on sharing their work anyway. This is a lesson for me as well. I have read posts from artists and friends who have chosen to be vulnerable and share their deepest selves with the world. Through the use of their creative work and social media outlets, they created the space for others to stand in their light. Others, like myself, who still cower and hide, yet acknowledge the fear. Others who masquerade the fear and anxiety that they experience with emotional pretenses and vain statements. Others like my teenage self, who hide behind closed doors and wait until darkness comes so that they will not have to see themselves. To those brave enough to showcase their fear, anxiety, joy, sorrow, and true nature: I am sincerely grateful.
     I have finally  mustered the courage to express my thoughts with those who care to read them. In turn, I write and hope that someone else may too find the courage to face the fear of exposure and walk into their spotlight.