Hello empty page,

I don’t know how I feel about you. You have so much potential, but also have a lot of expectations. You could be my best piece of writing yet. Or you could be a bunch of nonsense that I end up erasing and then trying to get you off my screen so I don’t have to look for your blankness another second. My computer asks me “Do I want to save my changes I made?” Do I want to leave you blank and saved for later as a reminder that I tried to create a masterpiece, but got lost or frustrated and said, “This is not good enough, I’m not good enough”? I let fear get the best of me again and decided that nobody is going to read it and understand how my mind was working at that moment. I gave up before I even tried.

I look at my writing how some people look at their social media or their pictures. If it doesn’t seem pretty enough or funny enough or grammatically correct enough where it stops and takes peoples breath away, it wasn’t meant to be seen by anybody.

Oh, Lily, you know good writing is real writing.

The kind where I get an idea and all I want to do is sit at my computer and write for hours and hours, pouring my thoughts and filling word documents with reality. That sometimes a little thing like my favorite song I was thinking about earlier plays on the radio after a long day will fill me up with safety and faith that someone knew I needed a pick me up. At that moment, it’s not a song, but a story filled with truth. I was driving home one day and I heard P!nK’s new song “What About Us” and thought “This is an anthem for anybody with anxiety and depression. That may not be P!Nk’s intention, but to me, she is asking anxiety “What about us, what about all the time you said the answers. You promised me that I would feel better, but here I am feeling abandoned. Anxiety seemed so nice, but that side won’t stay long and the alternative is filling you up with self-doubt. That who you are right now won’t stop people in their tracks.

That is an empty page to me.

I want what I write to stop people in their tracks. Every piece of writing I submit to the public is a labor of love and a risk for me, because I say, “I’m ready to invite the world to read this and I ready for any criticism or compliments that come my way”. That would be like a girl who never posts a selfie without makeup to post on her Instagram a selfie of what she looks like in the mirror when she first gets up with no caption or attention brought to the fact that she is not the perfect, pretty face that probably normally snaps 50 pictures just to get the right one.

Oh lovely, you don’t need to do that.

The people who you stop in their tracks with your beautiful soul don’t care if you have makeup on or have a pimple on your cheek. Just like the people who want to read what I write will click on it no matter what pretty sunset cover photo or catchy caption screaming “Read me, because the person who wrote me worked really hard on me” is attached to it. So, the empty page, you might be intimidating, but you don’t have to be. Anything I write that I am hesitant to have people to read is honest and REAL and needs to be heard. I’m sure this isn’t the last time I get overwhelmed by you, but this is your warning. I will still write on you and I will not be afraid. I have been afraid to write on you since I sat down, but I am 662 words ahead of you, so don’t tell me you have an advantage

Sincerely,

A Heart Full of Truth