no longer embarrassed
Happy full moon in Libra tomorrow (Saturday)!
It is freezing and pouring outside as I write this; yet the hairs on my arms are standing up from a surgency in me that I have not felt in years.
The standards and layouts that I had set up for myself in the past do not seem to be passing the test of my mind right now. I’ve been a bit hypocritical, I must admit. Typing words onto my broken laptop (I have to hook it up to a monitor to get it to work) feels like covering up my painful zits with a slob of concealer, a shade too light for me, as if I am pretending to be something else when I write… I suppose when I first started writing back in 2022, I had never deemed myself as able to write anything other than an economic analysis of why comparative advantage is beneficial, so the idea that I could write anything that commits feeling was speculative at best.
As I never wrote creatively when I was young, or even much at all in college, each time I would sit down to write one of these posts, my hands felt like they were getting blisters from the keyboard. Something didn’t fit. My fingers didn’t fit on the keys, and everyone could see that I was exhibiting something too tight for my large hands.
It is embarrassing!
I sit here, and I am embarrassed each time I post, as my words are fuel for people’s opinions of me.
I sit here embarrassed that my writing is sometimes filtered through my conception of other’s minds before it is spat out on the page.
I sit here embarrassed to admit that I did not consider myself a writer until a bit ago. I have written on here about change, ideals of self, and how manifestation is real, yet I soak up the words of the authors I admire most like a dirty mop and then try to clean my own page that I stained red with my own hesitations.
I am embarrassed that there is a cavernous difference between what I dream for myself and what I have limited myself to. If I continue this way of thinking for too long, it will be too late. I hold control over the limits and boundaries I set for myself, and the embarrassment is nothing compared to the risk of letting this opportunity slip through my perfectly keyboard-sized fingers.
I am not embarrassed to admit that on Friday, April 11, 2025, at 11:07 p.m. I think I want to be a writer??? I think I want to take writing classes and write a book. I know that is what I will do.
That's all I got, I think? Hmmm..
Anyways, I hope you have a good day,
-Hope Joy
The brain to the blog <3
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