Gratitude Letter #13

To You. (YES, YOU!)

it’s amazing to me who has read this blog. i never imagined (still can’t!), as i typed that first post about being so hopeless that i wanted to end it all, that you — whoever you are — would read it. i was merely writing my thoughts as a way to harness some of the pain, make sense of some of those crazy thoughts, a way to figure out what the fuck i was actually feeling. writing has always been therapeutic for me, so i wrote. and when i felt brave enough, bold enough, maybe even a bit manic enough, i posted it.

it was easy enough to hit that little “publish” button at the top and then not think about it. share the link on Facebook, and then log off. because the internet isn’t the real world.

but.

it turns out, very real people go on the internet.

and sharing my very real feelings in the very un-real world is now something i’m doing on a pretty regular basis. i’ve poured out my heart, my soul, my deepest and darkest thoughts and some pretty ugly shit onto this screen. and then i’ve shared it with you.

and i’ve come to realize that you — my readers (I have readers!) — are a pretty eclectic group. There’s the high school classmates I haven’t talked to since then; the other ex-girlfriends I’ve never spoken to; the friends of friends who stumbled upon this god knows how; the extended family members (sometimes it makes me cringe knowing y’all are reading this but i appreciate it all the same!); the guy who read this after our first (and last) date; some of my best friends; and some people I don’t know and will never meet.

i’ve recieved so much love and positivity from people — those of you I know, and those of you i don’t — in response to sharing my stories. reading the texts and facebook messages from other women who wrote that i helped them to not feel so alone during their breakups — that made my life. hearing that my post about depression helped someone get out of bed — there’s no words i can type to describe how fucking amazing that was.

i don’t write or share my writing for the praise or likes or recommends i recieve. all that shit is just icing on the cake. but i am so grateful to every single person who reads this blog, who follows it, who takes the time to learn a piece of my story and especially to those of you who share a piece of yours with me.

i am also, in a weird way, grateful to those who read my writing and don’t get it. to the asshole who told me via my blog comments that i was entitled and deserved to spend the next several valentine’s days alone. to the facebook friend who was sorry i was “going through a tough time.” these people — whose ill intentions or good intentions but lack of true undertanding — push me to be more clear, more concise, more intentional about how i tell my story.

after all, how you tell your story to yourself matters.

and then how you share that story with the world — after you’ve told it to yourself a million times — matters, too.

So thank you. thank you, for reading this. for allowing me to figure out, through these posts, how i tell my story — to myself, to you — to the world. for being those first (and last) dates, who will read this, and judge me; for being that other ex-girlfriend who will feel my pain and reach out; for being the friend of a friend who lets that friend know this blog helped you; for being that random Medium reader who read this and then kept reading. ❤