As my head is slowly recovering from the previous night’s alcohol consumption, random thoughts are gradually sweeping into one pile. At last making sense.
Yesterday’s Blogopolis panel discussion about finding your own voice and staying relevant is still ringing loudly in my mind.
I sat through it, in awe of how these women spoke with great flair and confidence about how important it is for us bloggers to embrace our quirky uniqueness.
I get that.
But for myself, there is a conscious block holding me back from revealing it all.
My personality isn’t any weaker for it. My blog and the words I write are still authentic.
Sometimes, the wiser choice is to quietly sit with it.
Despite the pseudonyms and anonymity, mindlessly spewing it out on the internet leaves nothing but a permanent stain against a real person.
Thanks to my own scarring past experiences, there’s now a lingering reservation from opening up too much. A little scared that the consequences will lead to having words stolen from me again.
I’m not up for the scrutiny.
And while trolls and haters are inevitable, there’s also the option to try and avoid being their bait.
To draw the right card at the appropriate time; to decide when to hold it close to my chest.
It doesn’t make me stand out any less.
There are certain times when silence is gold.
Giving the deserved reverence to delicate, highly-personal issues.
Ultimately asking myself, “Do I really need to hit that publish button ?”
Maybe I hover over it too much and need to press it a little more.
Whether I do or not, I know my feelings are still valid.
My voice still counts.