Mean every word

Every word on here is or once was a piece of me. I mean what I say. I write what I mean. Some stories get twisted in the mix. But I always come back to me. It always comes back to me.

One of the hardest parts of wearing your heart on your sleeve is you expect honesty from everyone you meet. You assume that vulnerability will be mirrored, that speaking your truth will invite truth tellers; that someone will handle your unvarnished feelings with the same care. Well, it doesn’t always happen that way. Sometimes people take your openness as an invitation, and sometimes they take it as an opportunity. And let me just say: it is really disappointing when it is the latter.

But even then, I’d still rather show up as myself than hide behind a curtain. With all my flaws. With all the pain it brings — I’d rather show up in my flesh. Acting tough and intense against the world may sound noble in theory, but it numbs the very parts of you that make life vivid. So I stay soft. I stay curious. I keep my heart hanging out in the cold, and stitched on, for anyone to see — even if it means it gets tugged at or misunderstood.

Writing all about these growing pains has become the place where that softness doesn’t need to apologize. Here, in my writing space, I don’t have to dilute the truth to make it palatable. I can contradict myself, rethink myself, or expose a version of myself I haven’t fully figured out yet. It’s all right. Somehow, the readers that resonate with me always find me. Not always with perfect understanding, though, but with a kind of recognition that reminds me I’m not just speaking into a void. I am not alone.

Maybe that’s one of the goals of self-expression; for you to liberate yourself from burdens and prejudice; to not be universally understood but for others to see what makes you you; to see pieces of yourself echoed back in strangers; to leave evidence that you felt things deeply and didn’t shy away. In a world that rewards being a copy of the top four — rather than rewarding uniqueness at all cost — meaning what you say, meaning to be yourself, is an act of rebellion. So, say what you mean with your chest; mean what you say, and the right crowd will follow.