I have so much to share…

I feel vulnerable when I write about my feelings, my perceptions and perspectives on life. I talk about them with my friends endlessly… to the point that the conversation becomes a monologue; however, when it comes to writing down my ideas, my voice disappears. I can feel my throat as I write these words and that alone would have stopped me in the past…many times. I always looked at people who were doing it better and that would make me feel small like I wasn’t good enough to be showing my art in front of other people. I feared scrutinization, mockery, debauchery…little did I know that I was capable of doing the same when other people failed at trying to show their vulnerable selves. I would make fun of their guts. Shame.On.Me. Acting this way, I kept myself in a very vicious cycle: I felt that if I wasn’t perfect, or the best at something, I wasn’t good enough; therefore, I wasn’t deserving of love and acceptance; therefore I couldn’t possibly be showing my vulnerable expression of being in front of other people.

I forgive myself for hurting me with my own judgements. My worst judge has always been me. Right now I end up with this bullshit, cause I don’t have any more time in this life to waste with other people’s opinions…or with my own opinion. What my heart aches is for expression and that little girl voice is calling me and won’t shut up until I show up. I’m here now. Bring.It.On. I’m deeply humbled by your teachings, beautiful universe. I crack open to surrender.