Wednesday’s Words is 7 years old!
Over the course of the last seven years I’ve been privileged to write essays that you, my readers, have read faithfully. There have been maybe four Wednesdays in total that I have missed, primarily due to being on vacation where the Internet connection was sketchy.
What amazes me the most when I think about it is that I have found something to say every week for so many years!
As most of you know who’ve read my essays each week, I often let you see me, warts and all. I don’t put on airs, choosing instead to let you see the flaws and the foibles that have followed me around for most of my life.
I’ve had different people—people who know me personally and claim to only be thinking of my best interests—tell me from time to time that this isn’t a good idea. Some have said that since I am an author of romance, my business should be primarily “exporting happy” to everyone, since romance novels are the quintessential happy-ever-after books. They think that if I am going to offer a blog at all, it should be hearts, and flowers, and all things wonderful.
I’ve had others tell me that I need to preserve an air of mystique. I guess they subscribe to the maxim that “familiarity breeds contempt”, or some such business. They feel that I need to keep myself “apart” from my readers (they call them fans), that all celebrities do this, and that very attitude of being “apart” [and here I think they meant ‘better’] helps to make celebrity what truly it is.
I’m not a celebrity, I’m just me.
Then there are those who say, “You shouldn’t let people know your business” as if letting people know my business was tantamount to letting them see me in the bathroom. I’ve asked why they feel that way, but so far, no answer has been forthcoming.
Everyone is entitled to their own opinion, and to make their own choices in this life. Over the years I’ve been very honest with you about the tough times we’ve been through, and the journey we are on. I’ve shared with you my most vulnerable moments, especially in the aftermath of our son’s death.
It is important to me that I write these kinds of essays, showing you my vulnerabilities, and the reason is simple. I need to share the crap that happens to me in my life so that others out there know they are not the only ones digging themselves out of the muck.
When life serves us up these piles of poop, for want of a better term, we humans tend to hunker down, withdraw, and often, we feel as if we’re the only ones going through, well, what we’re going through. This feeling of isolation is really the worst part of what we have to endure on this earth.
Anyone who has been blessed, as my husband and I have been blessed, also has a responsibility to give back. One of the ways I give back is to let you see me without my makeup, with all my scars showing, all my flaws hanging out, so that you know you are not alone.
The truth is that very little of what we experience in our lives, we homo-sapiens, is truly unique. Individualism exerts itself in how we handle what we’re handed. We can find victory even in the worst of circumstances, if we don’t allow tough luck or hard times to defeat our spirit. If, in other words, we remember that hardships don’t come to stay, they come to pass.
I often have no idea what I’m going to write about when I sit down to pen these essays. But I usually don’t have to wait long for inspiration to find me. Thank you for continuing to read these words of mine. And thank you, especially, for so many of you who so often share right back.