How personal should you allow yourself to be via blog?? I'm a person who never wanted to be the type of person who blogs (judgmental, maybe?), but I succumbed about 2 years ago, citing the excuse that it's an easy way to update friends and family, all at once, while living abroad. Easy enough justification. Yet no matter how surface-level I try to keep things when I'm writing a new post, some part of me wants to slide into introspection - perhaps due to the cathartic nature of the writing process itself, but I'm afraid it's also because the only time I find to blog is when I'm B-O-R-E-D, (a.k.a. - a little bit depressed).
So, disclaimer: this one is going to be a bit personal, a bit of a purge of self doubts and insecurities and unneccessary worries, although to be point-blank honest about the current state of my life in all sectors (professional, romantic, physical/health), most people have the right to kick me for complaining.
But first, I want to give thanks (to keep things in balance, of course):
Since moving to Spain, I've come into myself. It no longer seems weird to call myself a "woman," and though I don't even know what the world's definition of that is anymore, I'm proud to say I've got my own and I fit it to a T. I'm not afraid of the future anymore, and I'm not sure if that's just a milestone that comes for everyone at a certain point in life or if it's something to feel good about that I've reached it at all, and especially so young. Whatever the reason, I feel secure in myself and my place in the world - and I'm humbled daily by what a big, big world it is, and what a small, small place I hold. This is not to say that I'm naiive, that I think because life is going so well for me now that nothing bad could ever change it all, but just to say I'm thankful to have what I do, and to be open enough to recognize and appreciate it.
That being said, despite all the positive self-development that's happened since moving abroad, I'm shockingly aware as the months drift by of my inequities, namely my glaring lack of a social life. There are things that I want for myself (hello - friends!!!) and that, though I know what I want and how to get it, for the life of me, I can't bring myself to just go out there and get. And I wonder, if I'm so sure that I'm sure about who I am at this point in my life, what's stopping me from making my life not just what I'm comfortable with but what I wholeheartedly want it to be? Some possible culprits come to mind:
1) Laziness
I love my father and that side of my family to a ridiculous degree, but of course love comes with seeing and accepting the faults of the ones you care about. I'm not blind to my father's family's lazy streak - which is so acknowledged amongst the Knox's as to be joked about as if it were an inherited trait. Making light of our faults is fine and all, but I've secretly always been terrified of being lazy. This logically has more to do with my mother and stepfather constantly telling me and my older brother we were lazy-ass good-for-nothings who didn't appreciate what we had. I grew up with my mother and didn't have contact with my father or his family thoughout my formative years, and so never knew their laziness until I was adult enough to see it for what it was, which is fortunate I guess. But in the back of my mind, as scary as it is to admit, I'd be remiss to ignore my inner sloth that, when the heat is on, wants to just retreat under the covers and sleep til 4:00pm, or until someone just happens to come along or call me and I have a reason to get out of bed. It's fine to joke about a behavior as an inherited trait, but I think my laziness is genetic - otherwise, how do you explain my being lazy if I never had the "nurture" side from my father's influence? My mother might be a nut-bag, but she's anything but lazy; my father's Achilles heel is undoubtedly his laziness. So, admission is the first step. Now what??
2) Fear
I think I've always been afraid, deep down to my core, of other people. I'm afraid of what they think, afraid of creating conflict, afraid of disappointing others and missing out on opportunties. Lately, my laziness and my fear have been having fireside get-togethers, collaborating and having a fine old time getting to know one another, so now when one has a 'great idea,' the other's always there to back him up for support. When fear sets out to prevent me from putting myself out there, from strolling down to the neighborhood bar where my friend works just because I have nothing better to do than buy a beer so I can chat with her for an hour, my laziness kicks in and says, "Eh, you'd rather not go down there anyway - the conversation is always mediocre." I justify my own chicken-shitness (fear of looking like a retard in front of my friend because I go in there all the time by myself, so eventually she'll notice I'm probably just lonely or bored - both true) by convincing myself I'm happier to spend almost my entire weekend at home, alone in my room playing guitar or wasting time on the internet. Trouble is, though I'm completely aware of this and I know exactly what I want (to make new friends that I can count on, and to have "social outing options" at least 4 nights a week) and what I need to do to make it happen (go out more, call the few friends that I have more, make myself more available, etc.), something always stops me from it because I feel vulnerable and I hate feeling like that. Fear, like everything in life, is cyclical.
I hate that every time I write about insecurities it sounds like I need to read a self-help book. I guess the point of all this is to chronicle the fact that this stuff is in my head, too, despite the many good things which I write about in my blog, which are in no way diminished by the presence of negativity from time to time. I'm still generally happy, but there's always room for improvement, right? Hopefully, my improvement at this stage will come in the way I want it to, and like everything in life, I'll have to get around to putting some effort into it. Otherwise, it won't be worth a euro-cent.
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