Ordinary

One of the things that have held me back from writing my story is my ordinariness. Many of us, myself included, have bought into the idea that something has to be extraordinary if it’s going to bring us joy or inspiration. "We seem to measure the value of people's contributions by their level of public recognition.  Our culture is quick to dismiss quiet, ordinary, hardworking men and women. In many instances, we equate ordinary with boring, or even more dangerous, ordinary has become synonymous with meaningless." (Brene Brown, Gifts of Imperfection)
The memories I hold most sacred are the ordinary, everyday moments, and I did buy into the idea that what I have to say isn't clever enough or good enough for a broader audience than myself. When I thought about writing my story, the idea of opening up myself to public viewing was terrifying. Thoughts I had were "No one has time to read my words," or "no one cares, it’s too boring" or "People will correct/critique it."  My cousin Rachelle has quintuplets, of course people want to read her blog; my friend Cami is an English major and an editor, she has earned the right to write.  Heather?  I'm just an ordinary 35 year old wife and  mother, psychotherapist on the side, low energy, ordinary person. However, if I'm going to build connection with others and help people with my experience through my writing I must have risk the vulnerability of public scrutiny. I'd rather hide and protect my words, but that only fuels my insecurity and cowardice. So here you are world! Value it or not, I love you either way, and I love me too.
"If the goal is authenticity and they don't like me, I'm okay. If the goal is being liked and they don't like me, I'm in trouble." -- Brene Brown