I have found inspiration and love in unexpected places recently. It is not coincidence for me to have begun writing again recently.I have always been a writer. Since childhood. At some point in my life: I lost courage. To speak. Because I didn’t believe I had a voice. Because I felt invalid. Because I believed if someone didn’t agree with me that I was “bad”. That I should be ashamed. But I wasn’t bad. Incorrect about many things , yes. And I am quite certain: I still am. But I know now something I didn’t then: constructive criticism helps me grow. Rude opposition causes me to be defensive. I was unable to see a difference.
But I have recently found my voice again. And it is loud as hell. And I am not about to apologize. Because I found hope.Love. Inspiration. Amongst coffee pots and gyms. In life-changing texts. In unlikely friends. In weightlifters, auto-mechanics, hair stylists, pet-store employees, bakers, musicians, dental assistants, editors, scientists, military employees, mothers, family, husbands, children, volunteers, restaurant workers. At wooden tables with macaroni. In scooters. In theaters.
In people doing what the world told them they couldn’t. What they, themselves be believed was impossible for Themselves. Maybe they surprised themselves. But I honestly think some people just need someone or something to tell them that they “can”. When they don’t believe in themselves.
Maybe people need to feel heard. Worthy. And maybe they’re not remotely loud. That’s absolutely ok! They are no less worthy than someone who is.
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