I want to share my life with you.
But sometimes I don’t.
You, as a regular reader of my words, are a friend, but knowing that strangers may peek in sometimes makes me pull away. I do want those strangers to become friends like you have…but some things that I want to write about feel too intimate to share before they do.
This most recent phase of life has been an intimate one. I am nearing the end of the first trimester of my first pregnancy, and I am preparing for the release of a book of poems written during a time of personal struggle and growth. These are just two of the things close to my heart that I’m willing to begin sharing — there are others I still keep to myself.
But I do want to share my life with you.
Sometimes I wish you lived next-door. Then I could invite you over and have a conversation over a cup of tea so that we would get to know each other.
Then I remember how thankful I am that in this day and age I don’t have to live next-door to you to share my life with you. That’s why I blog. That’s why I’ve shared my life online for over a decade — because I’ve found friends through it. Close friends.
That’s why I wrote this today — because you are my friend and I haven’t forgotten you. Quite the contrary; even though I’ve been quiet here, I’ve thought of you each week as I’ve considered what to write and ultimately remain silent. Sometimes a little quiet is okay. In this case, it’s given me some freedom to simply be in this phase of life instead of trying to put it into words. It’s led to this moment when the words come smoothly and easily and I can’t help but share them with you.
Because I want to share my life with you.