I am heavily influenced by bloggers and authors, mainly women, who embrace the messy parts of their lives to include physical as well as mental messes. These writers share dark, vulnerable, and sometimes fucked up sides of themselves and their lives, and I freaking love it. It all makes me feel less alone when I’m reading about others’ depression struggles, issues with loved ones, past traumas spurred by a multitude of things, and moms wading through the mires of raising children, among other things. I know that reading these heartfelt and raw writings help me, and in turn, I find solace in sharing my not so great parts in hopes that someone might find them helpful. As an added bonus, those thoughts and feelings are pulled out of my anxious brain and bruised heart and are out on the page/blog post.

Bringing certain situations to light can feel so cathartic and healing to me, and that can be a problem for some people who are part of the situations I write about. I’ve seen videos and I’ve read quotes recently that have practically the same message of “If you didn’t want me to talk poorly about you, perhaps you should’ve been nicer” and that really resonated with me. I’m not here to bash anyone, I’m here to talk about how situations and my interactions with others have made me feel and how I process them. I’m also here to celebrate the wins I gain by voicing my opinion when I am wronged; I feel so much better and more authentic when I am honest about the mistakes I’ve made and how I feel when others have treated me poorly.

Shame dies when we bring it to light and share it with others. This is something I learned during my divorce and more recently with my last relationship. Admitting when I’ve messed up is huge, and admitting when I didn’t uphold my boundaries or when I willingly let someone cross one of my boundaries, and I didn’t call them out on it, is also huge. I don’t want to feel as though I can’t talk about something because it will make someone, who didn’t treat me well, uncomfortable.

Thank you for reading my mind vomit!

Bisous,
Chenay