The thing about expressing thoughts in a public journal instead of a private one is that the public journal exposes otherwise insulated thoughts to everyone and leaves me vulnerable.
As I learned from at least a half-dozen family members and a couple of non-related readers, my last journal entry ruffled some feathers. Specifically, my comments about toxic kin struck a nerve. Truth be told, the truth hurts, but I won’t dwell on that topic.
I learned long ago that anything written for the public, whether a silly poem, an opinion piece in a newspaper, or a blog post, is susceptible to criticism. I also learned that’s why a writer must develop a thick skin. Since, by nature, I‘ve always been an easy-going, compassionate person, it took a while for me to grow that extra layer of epidermis. That doesn’t mean things my critics say don’t bother me; I’ve just learned to keep it in perspective. I know that, just like me, other people have their opinions. So, I’m not apologizing for having the audacity to express myself in a way many people might not.
Although I’ve been writing since childhood, my first published piece was an article in The Washington Post in March 1985, followed by a poem in an Anthology of Poetry in 1988. Since then, I’ve been in writer’s bliss. I find writing to be a cathartic and therapeutic experience. I write a public journal to express my feelings to others and get feedback from my readers who may want to share their opinions on the same or other subjects. Often, I will disclose details about past or present events in my life, reveal new goals, reflect on my anxieties, or express gratitude. (To God, I always give glory.) But whatever I write about, my intention remains to be honest and open.
One of the most challenging things I had to overcome when accepting the suggestion to create this blog was the fear of what people might think about something I wrote until I learned that the fear of saying or writing the wrong thing, making mistakes, or being criticized stifles my creativity. Since discarding that asphyxiating security blanket, I have become stronger and more self-confident.
For too many years, I was a go-along-to-get-along person. To avoid being seen as illiberal, I felt inclined to support issues I disagreed with or believed were morally wrong. Now, I refuse to be one of those people who pretend that the emperor is wearing clothes when it is perfectly evident that he is butt naked. I am and plan to always be unapologetically me.