And it is written

I miss writing. I miss connecting with myself on that level. I miss hammering out my thoughts and then coming back to them. Fine tuning them. Perfecting them. Anytime I have gone back and reread something that I wrote, I like myself more. I appreciate the thoughts. I’m not sure if I want to be a blogger or an author or a freelancer or all of the above but I know that I need this flow that happens when my fingers tap on a keyboard. I blame too much on my ex-husband and his influence in my life but the day I met him I was looking for a “word processor”. I wanted a cheap computer so that I would have a way of writing that could be saved and potentially shared. I never bought the computer and shortly into our relationship, he read something that I had written and was angry with me for it. I allowed that to make me too afraid to write. What if the people who knew me didn’t like what they read? Fucking “what will people think” syndrome has plagued me most of my life. I’m getting better at honouring myself but it is an ongoing challenge. Hopefully writing more and circling back to appreciate myself will help.

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