Happiness

I know that I am impulsive, and I know that sometimes I am not happy with the choice I've made after the fact. I don't always sit down and think through every single avenue and option, and I just do what makes me feel better in the moment and dealing with the rest later on. Last night I had a moment where I made an impulse decision. I was angry and somewhat embarassed, so I permanently deleted a post that had only been up for a few hours that tracked my train of thought through the move back from Orlando. I deleted it because I didn't want someone to see it. I wanted it to seem more put together and less childish and wandering, as many of my posts seem to do.

But here's the thing: this space is mine. Once in a while another person comes along and reads one or two things, but for the most part this is a place for my thoughts and my inner dialogue. Why should I be embarassed of my thought process? Why should I ever be ashamed of my own voice? The answer is that I should not. If I'm going to write, I'm going to write for ME. Not to impress anyone, not so that I don't shake my head at myself five years from now when I'm rereading something. I'm going to write for myself, in the moment, whatever feels cathartic and good and helpful.

It's too bad that I had to permanently erase a piece of me to figure out this obvious little lesson, because I do feel bad about my decision now, but I think I also understand a little better why the writing is so important to me. It's my heart on the line, my emotions laid bare, but it's for ME. Its my way of coping and organizing the mess inside my head into a coherent train of thought. It's the best way I know how to look at a moment and work through the in's and out's. I'm still trying to decide if I'm going to attempt to recreate the lost post or not, but I know that I won't ever again erase something because I'm afraid of how it makes me appear. This is my voice and I'm going to use it.