Blank Pages

Yesterday I started writing something for this blog, something I've wanted to put into words for a very long time. Something I've avoided.

I was writing and writing and it was coming out and I was feeling like it needed to be heard and I needed to say it, but then, all of a sudden . . .

I just stopped.

After about a page I just stopped.

Yeah, admittedly, it wasn't coming out quite right and my word choices were off and I knew it was going to need about a hundred edits, but none of that is why I stopped.

All at once I stopped writing because, the truth is:

It just seemed like too much.

It seemed like too much and people would hate it and hate me and wonder about themselves and I'd be vulnerable and controversial and provocative and alarming and so I stopped.

All at once I just stopped writing what I really wanted you to know and I went to a blank page to begin something safe.

For real.

Something safe.

This is not a thing I am just saying because it sounds dramatic and I like dramatic sounding things (which I do).

I really did this. I really put away what I wanted to say, what I thought maybe needed to be said, and I tried to replace it with something that wouldn't make anyone react.

Anyone. Including me.

And what do you think happened?

I could not get one word on that blank page.

Not one.

That safe page? It remains blank. It has been blank for about the last six hours and instead I've gone back to the other page, the one that wasn't coming out quite right, that seemed like too much and that people would hate me for and find vulnerable and controversial and provocative and alarming.

I went back to that and I started just allowing it to be.

To be not quite right.

To be too much.

To be all of the things that the blank page would never be because the blank page was not real.

So I am still working on it - the page that's real.

It's not ready yet, but I think maybe I can be alarming and provocative and controversial and vulnerable without also being a complete asshole. I think you might know the difference and that I can speak my truth gently but firmly and you might listen and think it's an interesting truth, even if it is not your own.

I think if I say and do everything with good intentions for us both, then we will both be okay.

So what are YOU saying that is not real because not real things are easier to say?

What blank pages are you keeping because blank pages don't get reactions, from you or from anyone else?

What are you afraid of and ashamed of and proud of and ready for?

Why aren't you saying it?

Why are there so many blank pages?