I Write To Give Myself Strength

I have a confession to make. I am a very fearful person. I try really hard to be brave, but deep down I'm scared. Scared of what you ask. I wish I knew. It was just in this past year or so that I realized that this type of fear is actually anxiety. For example, if I say something awkward, I have a hard time letting it go. The same goes if someone says or does something that I don't understand. The problem is, these types of interactions tend to happen on a daily basis. To top it off, I have a hard time standing up for what I believe in because deep down I question whether it is the right thing to believe at all.

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I am doing better. I am now brave more often than not. I am doing things that I only dreamed of years ago, like writing a novel for one. I am stronger in my beliefs and have rebuttals instead of doubts. This partly because of an increase in confidence, but mostly due to asking myself those hard questions and being truly honest with myself in the answer.

However, I am writing this in a moment when I do not feel brave. I often say that writing is my therapy and so here I am, once again at my keyboard just trying to figure out exactly what I am feeling. I don't know if it is strength or desolation that causes me to reach out in this form. Perhaps it is just the simple ability to connect with others in hopes that I am not alone.

I have always been emotional; going from happy to mad to sad and then back to happy again in a span of minutes. I have always had some sort of anxiety in my life, now that I know how to define that feeling of hopelessness and sometimes panic. It occurs even when I know in my head that everything is perfectly fine. In addition, I've always been a people pleaser, which come to find out, is not exactly a good thing.

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These are my struggles. Some days, let me tell you, the struggle is real. I feel like just trying to get through the day is exhausting. Not everyday, thank goodness, but some days are hard. Today was not a hard day, but somehow, I am still here sitting in front of a glowing screen writing to friends and strangers about doubt and uneasiness.

Am I good enough? I don't know how to answer that. On a good day, when I have confidence and wit I would say "absolutely." But in moments like these, all I can say is "I'm doing my best and I won't give up." Some days I think that is all you can say. The trick is to believe it. To keep moving forward, to change and grow and get up ready to try again the next day or in the next moment.

So here I am, a person full of doubt pretending to have confidence and hoping that one day that confidence will be real instead of simply a shield for my uncertainty.

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I am thankful that I have a love for writing. There are so many qualities in ourselves that see us through. Music also helps me, but I'm sure it is how musicians understand the world; how athletes understand the reason for living; how artists express emotion; and how scientists discover whole new worlds. I believe we all have something in us that we turn to when we need to sort out emotions and find direction.

Writing has saved me in more ways than I can count from the time I could string letters together to make words. I have written about friendships, heart breaks, life choices, moving, falling in love, becoming a mother and now about identity, anxiety and confidence. I love writing, and I love this space I've created where I can feel comfortable about being myself, flaws and all. I am thankful for this craft and how it makes me appreciative of all things, good and bad. Most importantly, I am thankful for not being alone.

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