Today I have to much free time and a lot on my mind, so I've got it in my head that I am going to WRITE.
That's why I like blogging. The words. I like when I read something and I think "Oh, I know that girl. She is me." The pretty pictures make me swoon and the clothes and crafts are inspirational. Comparison in the thief of joy somebody said sometime and boy, is it true. But the words are what tie me to blogging. If you ever want to have a laugh, go and dig up my old livejournal. Yeesh. I have been lackluster about my blog lately and I think its because there's just not enough heart here. I am a write. I am a word rambler. I am a story teller. In the new year I would like to change this, and put some real thought into making this blog what I want it to be: A record of me. A depiction of my life and what I'm going through that I can look back on, and hopefully one that others can commiserate with and say "Yes, I know that girl. She is me."
Anyway, this morning I'm thinking about the shame and the inner struggle that comes with WANT. I have been thinking a lot about Pres. Uchdorfs talk, The Good and Grateful Reciever.I often feel overwhelmed when I am gifted things. I do not feel worthy to receive them. My biggest fear is selfishness and self-absorption. What will people think if I make it known that I actually desire this or that? This battle has affected many parts of my life. Should I wear this outfit? What if people think I'm being flashy? Can I wear red lipstick? That's so much attention to my face. Can I tell this boy how I feel? What if it all turns out terribly? Can I write a blog? How vain!
Luckily, I usually push through in every inner struggle and I don't let the fears win out. But the struggle is still there! Confidence is hard won. As I grow older, it gets easier, but also presents a new level of crazy. Even now as I write this, I don't know if it makes sense. If I have touched the core of the issue. Hopefully you can make it out. Right now I want to be a better writer and a better memory keeper, and that scares me, but the desire and the results rule out the fear. Yes, I know this girl, this sheepish girl. She is me.
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