You Can't Take It With You

I realized recently that I've lost a few friends on Facebook. I'm pretty sure this is because of things I've written on my blog. Initially I was excited because I've always heard you haven't "arrived" until you've offended someone via your blog. The other part of me was saddened and worried by it.

My blog is a mixed bag sprinkled with some fiction and non-fiction, but even my fiction is loosely based in some sort of reality. I've blogged about people in my life. Those people may not have appreciated what I had to say, despite it being the truth. While I can certainly understand that, I haven't painted anyone in an unkind light. Yet, these are my memories, my perspectives, and my side of the story. You'll never know the other side. Par for the course.

But you know what? I had to say it. I had to write it. I'm a writer and this is my truth. This blog is my creative space. I'm not here to be Ms. Nicey Nancy and try to make everyone worship me--I'm here to write because I must. It's what I do. It's who I am. As Allison Nazarian says in this post,

Stop trying to be so damn nice. Nice is a bullshit excuse. First of all, you are already nice without trying. Second, trying to be nice all the time becomes a full-time job and a full-time job means you don’t have time for most anything else. People won’t like you sometimes, and that’s ok. The more you speak your truth, the more some people will turn away. Not everyone wants to or is ready to hear it or face theirs. They may not like the changes they perceive in you. And that is not your problem. Meanwhile, the more this happens, the more those who DO resonate with what you have to say will start to show up. And they won’t expect that Splenda-sweet nice chick in your place.

They expect you. The real you.

Last week I told my daughters for the first time, "Mommy is a writer," and they looked at me with furrowed brows. Not sure why I never told them before, but they've always known Daddy is a surgeon. Now they know about the real me, too.

The people I've written about? Names have been changed, characteristics altered....events/ circumstances? Not so much. If I've offended, I have to just let go. Say goodbye. I can't carry that weight with me into the new year, there's too much at stake. If you don't like me, if you don't like what I write? There's a sting, but it's quick and then it's over. I can't carry the heaviness with me, a feeling of fault. I've done nothing wrong by simply speaking my truths.

The lesson here? Not everyone is gonna love me. And I'm learning to be okay with that.