I look down at my punk-ed out fingernails as I scroll through my blog posts thus far.
I’m really proud of this journey. Of where I’ve been already, where I am right now, and even where I might be going.
I am not worried that I swear a lot.
Nor am I worried that there seems to be so much sad stuff.
I notice it with non-judgement.
I see you sad writing.
I see the release that has come from expressing some of my deepest and darkest worries, obsessions, thoughts, and musings.
I am really proud of that.
I am really proud of me.
My intention as I began this journey was to honour my authenticity, and express for the sake of expressing. And that’s what I’m doing.
I’m not worried if there is epic sadness and pain nor if that seems disproportional to the ‘happy’ posts. Because I don’t see a difference. Expression is expression, and thus it is perfect.
So part of me wants to say that I’m not that melancholy, I swear. The other part of me just says meh as it is in-fact a non-issue.