Even figuring out this first sentence is tough. I’m a copywriter by trade and an over-thinker by nature. Therefore, figuring out how to “start posting” again involved much time, tequila and hitting the delete key.
So, let’s just rip the Baid-Aid and start this here thing!
What’s been the hold up, you ask? The hubster asked me the very same thing while sitting at our favorite hole in the wall bar. I have so many ideas and so many things I want to do with this site, that I surprised myself by immediately tearing up and letting the plethora of fears about re-starting spill out. It also could have been the 9% ABV beer, but I digress…
In my diatribe of fears, it basically broke down to this.
Fear of failure
What if they laugh at me? No, seriously. I was the kid that wore a freakin’ wallpaper outfit to the first day of school in 5th grade. THAT’S A DISTINCT POSSIBILITY.
Fear of success
What if I get offered a lucrative deal to be Prince William’s baby’s nanny? Just as serious as fear of failure is the fear the unknown opportunities that arise with success. Since I don’t know what those could be, I fear them. I need things planned, people. Planned.
Fear of offending someone
What if someone takes what I write personally? I mean, sometimes I swear. As in, use foul language. And shit, people can get bent out of shape about that shit. They could take something to heart and hold it against me FOR-EV-ER.
(Because that’s super helpful.)
Fear of not being true to myself
What if I feel like I’m holding back because they may think I’m weird or worse…fat and ugly! We all know those are the worst things to be in life… Secondary note: what if they don’t know sarcasm?
Fear of responses
What if people get nasty? I’ve been the subject of punchlines. Some people will forever roll their eyes at everything that’s posted. But you’re still reading, SUCKAS.
So back to the 9% ABV beer…
While the hubster just blankly stared for a bit at me, he finally let out an exasperated:
He’s right. I know he’s right. Every fiber of my being knows he’s right. And I didn’t need him to tell me that. I just needed someone to give me a reality check. Husbands are good for that.
While I’ve grown leaps and bounds towards not worrying, sometimes fear takes hold. But you know what feels better than fear? Turning off the filters and showing the world just who I am. It feels awesome. So here I am. (Rock you like a hurricane?) Take it or leave it.
(I’d take it. I’m pretty cool.)
So here’s to not caring.
To starting from the very beginning…again.