So I’ve been meaning to start a blog for a while now. For as long as I can remember, I’ve always been most comfortable with my pen. Whether expressing my deepest thoughts through poetry and songs, or thinking aloud via essays and love letters, writing has always been my outlet, my first love actually. I vividly remember my first poem: I was 9 years old, and I forgot to buy a birthday gift for my mom. I quickly pressed some flowers from our garden and started writing her a birthday letter. Somehow, the words just flowed and I ended up writing her a love poem. It was exhilarating and fun. I was like a giddy schoolgirl, I couldn’t wait to find what else I could write about. First love & heartbreaks, angry rants & funny lines, family & foes, friends & strangers. The topics are endless… I’ve discovered a new passion.
But somewhere along the way, the writings slowed down. And then it just stopped. I don’t exactly remember when it happened. Maybe it was when I moved out on my own and life got busy. Or maybe it was after I met my now husband and I just got caught up in dates and blind love. Or maybe it was after the kids, when hectic and happy chaos defines my day-to-day. But I felt my creative mind slowly being drained, being shut off. There was a void I felt, like there was something missing in me. It was like I had lost a love, and I don’t know how to get it back.
And just as the feeling of love initiated my first writing, this feeling of loss bought me back to my pen (or in this case, my laptop:) Sadness has made me write again. And before I know it, a surge of varied emotions come over me and I started craving to put my thoughts, a lot of my thoughts, into writing. And I feel this renewed energy fill me. I have reconciled with my first love again.
So here I am. Opening up myself. Offering my truths. Exposing my flaws. For so long I have built this wall of hesitation and self-consciousness. It is time to reveal myself, my light as much as my dark side, my tears of pain and my giggles of joy, my chants of peace and my moments of rage. Here I am. In all my imperfect glory– A Flawed Fem.