Girls in white dresses with blue satin sashes
Snow flakes that stay on my nose and eyelashes
Silver white winters that melt into springs
These are a few of my favorite things
– Barbra Streisand
Since yesterday’s heavy post hit the web, I have received dozens of thoughtful text messages, emails, Facebook messages, and sweet comments. As I mentioned in one comment, I struggled for a long time with yesterday’s entry. I was very unsure whether or not I wanted to blog at all about what I had been going through for the past few weeks. But then, I quickly realized I had to.
For the past three years, I have written about every inch of my life. I have written about happy times, and sad times, and funny times, and old times, and times that have not yet come. I have opened my heart up for the world to read and you all have been there every step of the way. At times, it has been messy. I have gotten in trouble for some posts and applauded for others. I have cried to you. I have whined, and bitched, and moaned to you. But I’ve shared good stuff too. And you have shown me nothing but unconditional support and love.
So, why wouldn’t I write about this chapter of my story ending?
We all have stories to tell. Some are more colorful than others. Some are full of rainbows, puppies, and chocolate fondue fountains. Some are dark – full of demons, skeletons, and secrets. Regardless, our stories make us who we are – the good, bad, and the ugly.
I am not the type of person who filters, or censors, or hides things. I’m not ashamed of who I am. And I am certainly not of the belief that I can own the good and not the bad.
I am me.
And I own every bit of her.
Another reason why I decided to post Let Him Fly is because, historically speaking, my most vulnerable posts have been the most popular. Many of you relate to the pieces I write that deal with real issues. You resonate with my trials and tribulations. You reach out to me and tell me that my words have made an impact. You tell me your stories.
On the surface, pieces like “Let Him Fly” my seem selfish. However, what I’ve found is, these kinds of posts are not just therapeutic for me… they are therapeutic for you as well. They turn into an email exchange. Into conversations. Into relationships.
We are all human.
We all succeed. We all have strengths and weaknesses. We all have short-comings. We all stumble and fall from time-to-time.
But none of that matters.
What matters is, we all have someone to tell us, “Congratulations. You fucking rock.” What matters is, we all have someone to recognize where we excel and where we could use help. What matters is, we all have someone who looks past what might have been and sees what could be. What matters is… we all have someone to grab us by the hand and hoist us back up.
Thank you for the hand.
In the meantime, for those of you who may be going through something similar at the moment…