Me: They might not like it.
Me: If they don’t like it, they can unsubscribe.
Me: But I personally know every subscriber, maybe they don’t want to hurt my feelings.
Me: People keep reading it. They could just let it go to their inboxes and never open the message. But they don’t.
Me: Maybe they are worried about me and they read to make sure I am okay. I don’t want to write things that will make people feel down.
Me: But you also don’t want to write things that are not real, and sometimes real is down. Or at least real is not always falsely positive and upbeat.
Me: Isn’t it a little self centered to write so much about myself? My own thoughts, my own experience, how I feel about every little thing?
Me: Maybe being real can help people feel less alone. So much of what you see on TV, online, in magazines doesn’t seem like your life at all, or doesn’t reflect what really matters to you. Writing what is real for you has helped you. Maybe it helps other people too.
Me: So is that the plan then, publish an online diary?
Me: Ideally no, that wasn’t the plan. And it isn’t the plan. But you are being transparent. You had an idea, you started something, it is evolving and that takes time. And you are keeping people (who love you and are supportive of you) informed and involved as you learn and develop.
Me: I’m afraid that if I just keep writing whatever pops into my head once a week that…
Me: That…?
Me: You know I’m a people pleaser.
Me: Yes.
Me: I’m not sure that blogging is the right outlet for me. When I read my own posts on my phone I wish I were sitting down in a comfy chair with the words printed out, instead of rushing to read it quickly on a tiny screen.
Me: You changed the subject.
Me: I don’t know what I’m afraid of. Can we move on?
Me: You like to blog. You are a people pleaser. You love these people and you want to do something that is helpful, is honest, is enjoyable on both sides, doesn’t make anyone feel upset, keeps everyone happy. All you can do is be real. And try to be healthy. And share what you are learning. You can’t keep everyone happy. And if you try to you won’t be able to write what is inside you.
Me: Maybe it is arrogant to think it matters—what is inside you.
Me (singing softly):
This little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine
This little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine
This little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine
Me (even softer):
Let it shine, let it shine, let it shine (a little choked up).
That was a low blow.
Me: What else are you going to do? Play iPad games, eat Justin’s dark chocolate peanut butter cups, and binge-read the news?
Me: I could get a job cleaning up a river. Someone could tell me to do something and I could do it. I could do a good job. They would tell me I was doing a good job. Sometimes.
Me: And your music?
Me: I could do that sometime. Some other time.
Me: And your light?
Me: I care about rivers.
Me: And your light?
Me:
Me: Your little light?
Me: Maybe I can’t do it.
Me: Maybe you can.
Me (in such a quiet whisper, maybe no one will hear):
i hope i can
you can.
“Your confidence gives me strength”
— Princess Poppy