Unraveled. that's how i feel sometimes. Like there's always someone at the other end of the string, just waiting for me to let down my guard and pull. Like when you've worked so hard on this intricate pattern of crochet, found the most lucious, beautiful yarn--a true work of art. And then some careless person walks past, as your work falls to the floor. Wraps around the ankle, as if trying to hold itself together....that person just keeps moving in their own direction, not once giving thought to all the time and energy you just poured into this creation. And then it begins...stitch by stitch, coming apart. Turning back into just threads. Just pieces. Unraveled.
... Deciding to revive a once-lost memory is intimidating. The will to bare your thoughts, sometimes unedited, for public viewing, conjures images of hiding behind my mother's dress at church -just to get a good peek at things before edging into view. If only writing gave us at least that safety net. A conversation with a friend inspired this post, a decade after shutting down and retreating to small blurbs on social media. I asked why she hasn't 'written that book.' You know, when judging others, you're just asking to be judged yourself--and our toughest judge typically is our own inner voice. Henceforth, I have determined that on this day, in order to practice what I speak, in absolute protest against my tendency to imposter syndrome, I'll be writing again. It isn't that I stopped communicating but I stopped sharing my thoughts so openly. I'll update the happenings of the past decade and plan a fresh look to this space. Everchanging, Kristen
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