I don’t even know what day it is of the quarantine of COVID-19, but here I am, sitting on my couch next to my husband and thinking about all of the things I need to do. I’ve been lucky enough to work from home for the past two weeks (even though it has brought along its own set of stressors for me) – I know I am not in the middle of risk. I am overwhelmed with gratitude by those who are on the front lines. But here I am – creating my future while I can understand what anything means.
I’ve been wanting to start my own website for awhile. I’ve had blogs since Xanga was introduced, and in my typical fashion, I’ve had pretty much every version of online blog ever created: LiveJournal, Blogger, Xanga, Blogspot, OpenDiary, WordPress, etc etc. I’ve never created my own website before, and it’s been in the back of my mind for awhile. I’ve felt a sense of fear for a long time to put myself out there in a real way. I have been writing for twenty-five years; I go through spurts of open expression and vulnerability of my work, and then years of hiding. Hiding is my specialty. Hiding behind a mask – bright smiles, bright eyes, changing the melody – I am an expert. Every time I reveal the beautiful chaos behind the curtain, my life tends to spiral in some way. Normally I am led to believe it is because something is “wrong” with me. So I hide those parts of me again. Or I bend myself back into the box. Or I stay quiet – pushed up against the wall. Nod, smile, cough so they know I’m breathing. Eventually, my energy builds up against the walls of my body and I start to crack open – the pain becomes unbearable. Do I numb everything and go back to hiding? Or do I burst open – unapologetic – with new skin that can be damaged and scarred, but at least it’s my own? At least I can feel the wind and sun on my face and I can be seen?
So, I can’t say I’m at the beginning. I’ve danced this dance. I’ve made scratches on the walls to mark my years of progress and regression. I’m here – in the middle. I can see backwards quite a bit and I don’t want to go there anymore. I am taking a step; a big breath. I am feeling the sun on my face.
I am opening up the curtain and revealing my beautiful chaos. Fear doesn’t walk on my road anymore.
