Words

If you’ve known me for even a day, one of the first things you learned about me is probably how important I think words are.

Words can build a friendship.

Words can make us fall in love.

Words can break our hearts.

Words can build us up or tear us down.

Words are healing.

But, mostly, words are hope.

Whether it be prose or lyrics or any formation of words…

Words are proof that someone else has been where we are, felt what we feel, survived it, and thrived enough to write it down.

Words have the power to prove to us that we’re not alone. Words are proof that someone out there understands.

I know this. I say this often. I try to live what I preach by sharing these words and the feelings that inspire them. I try to show people that they aren’t alone and that it’s ok to be vulnerable.

This has formed some of the most amazing relationships of my life as I’ve, subsequently, found myself surrounded by people who understand and seek understanding.

But then…there’s the other side. The people who dislike my words. To them:

Words are attention seeking.

Words are pitiful and weak.

Deep words should be buried and only happiness and joy should be communicated.

Words mean you refuse to heal.

For those who feel (or are) responsible for our painful words, words are an accusation that must be silenced.

And, so, even knowing the importance of words….I sometimes silence myself. I share some things, but I swallow most. Or I type type type…delete delete delete.

I hear a family motto on refrain in my head. “Don’t cry. No one cares.”

Here’s the thing…when I’m sharing my words…that is the moment I’m least likely to cry. It’s cleansing. It’s strength to be able to acknowledge and face the good and the bad in life.

I actually think it might be my best quality. A gift from God that helps me bring a little light into the dark.

So, I’m going to stop hiding my words. Which sounds funny coming from a blogger. “You write all the time.”

Yes, but…every blog I write comes with a bit of fear of rejection. Do I sound crazy? Do I seem attention seeking? Am I going to make anyone mad? Will anyone understand?

Don’t write that. No one cares.

But this morning it really hit me.

I. Don’t. Care.

This is my blog. My world. Let it be ignored or judged by those who don’t like it or me. (And, honestly, feel pity on them that they’re wasting their time consistently reading and judging something they don’t like. How miserable is that?)

And let it be hope for those who have been where I am or have been.

And…as I have finally decided to start addressing my own demons of having a borderline parent…let it be healing for ME as I sometimes use this space to get those thoughts out of the swirling mass in my brain.

Because that’s the biggest thing I’ve realized. This drowning feeling I’ve had? I’ve been drowning under the weight of words that I felt like no one wanted me to share.

As of today, I don’t care. Just call me Sheri the Share Bear. (Oh yeah…I went there…😆)