Ashamed.

So, when I first started writing, it was something that I was slightly ashamed of. I’m actually ashamed of admitting it now. It just wasn’t something people did, and I felt like I was the only one. It was only a few years ago that I saw a friend so open, and she was outspoken. I wasn’t.

Everything I write is very personal to me. It’s my thoughts and feelings that I feel deeply about. I was uncomfortable with others reading it. It made me vulnerable and I never did vulnerable.

I hated feeling that people could look inside me and make their judgement. I only felt that way because I was scared to be judged for who I truly was. I wasn’t looking for validation, I was looking for acceptance. 

For a very long time now, I’ve always felt like a standout. I stuck out like a sore thumb, someone once told me. So, my journey went on. I constantly found ways to be like everyone else, to fit in. To find validation. This carried on for years and I had friends, yeah, when I became like everyone else. But I didn’t know who I was anymore.

It was hard. At first. Telling myself there’s nothing wrong with me. And I found out that others people’s acceptance was incomparable to my own. My own acceptance of myself was the most important. 

So, I started writing more, reading more and I slowly became happier. I’m happy with myself now. Of course, I still have insecurities but I live for the things that make me happy. I want to be happy.

I guess what I’m trying to say is, I’ve been ashamed of writing for so many years but it made me happy and helped me accept myself. Shame is not an organic feeling, it’s something that you feel because you think you’re supposed to feel it. 

I’ve been more open about my writing and what I do. With help of friends who actually care for me, I’m starting to accept myself and I’m not as confused anymore.

Writing has helped me, and I’m no longer ashamed or embarassed. I enjoy it and without a doubt, I am a lot happier.

-H.E