Explaining myself as I step forward

I have a habit of explaining myself without being asked.

I’ve been trying to quit this nasty habit for years. It’s really slow going.

Progress only looks like becoming more aware this tendency. Progress has been catching myself when I’m about to explain myself— and then very often doing it anyway.

Here I go again.

I am about to explain myself, dear reader. I can always find a good reason to do so, and filtering those thoughts is challenging. I’m telling myself that I want to explain myself to you because it’s only fair. I want to be clear and re-state my intentions. For me and for you. So you know what you’ve signed up for. So you can get out before it’s too late. :)

Perhaps this is more like an intro to a book. Maybe this sort of explaining is useful. See, this is why it’s such a hard habit to break!

Well, for better or worse, here are my explanations.

a) I am giving daily blogging a go again. I’ve discovered it’s something that gets me blogging more, and I’m having trouble finding a middle way.

b) I want to be more vulnerable and more personal. Get more real.

c) I’m doing this for me. That means you may be bored or confused or something else that makes you want to stop following me or reading these blogs. Please do whatever YOU want to! Just like I’m doing this for me, reading this should only be done if it’s good for YOU. Thank you for looking out for you most of all.

d) The reasons I want to blog more frequently are many. Here are some: to figure out how to make the practice of blogging something I can count on myself doing… because it feels good, because writing is nourishment I need and want, because I have so much to say and only by writing more will I gain the courage to keep going… and to speak louder!

I want to blog more frequently because I can. Because I was blessed with parents and an education that nurtured my love of words and language… Because I was born when and where I was… Academic opportunities were endless. Feminists and brave women were all around me.

The only gatekeeper left is in my head. Fear is this gatekeeper’s power.

Fear I’ll be called a witch for speaking my mind. Better lay low. Keep quiet.

Fear I’ll be chased home from school by the scary boy. Better take a different route. Armor up. Hide away. Don’t be seen.

But I’m not nine anymore. It’s the 21st century, not the 16th.

We, as individuals, as women… have already survived most of what we’re afraid will happen.

If fear is the only thing left to keep me silent… If the danger is now only imagined… it means I am privileged.

It means I am more powerful than I realize.

It’s time we stepped into the power that generations before us fought for us to have.

It’s time to make my grandmother proud.