I was told: no one wants to hear about your problems. No one is interested in them. They’re not problems, I wanted to explain, they’re reflections, ruminations, story-telling. Is anyone bothered by the tales I share? I’m sharing hoping for relatablity. For the ability to connect, to cause a feeling, or emotion, within the person who’s reading. I don’t mean to perturb, though sometimes my shares will shock. That’s not my main intent. I am concerned by their statements. Because, if it is true that people don’t want to read, why do I have readers return to read my words, the numbers may have fallen but of my release, I am still hanging on. I am grateful for each single word you read, which you digest. If you can’t make it all the way through, I understand, some topics may not be for you. But I appreciate that you are here as part of a type of therapy, the sharing allows an offloading feeling, the heaviness of a topic shared between others lightens the load. I’m not a woman constantly filled with turmoil, a walking accident, a travelling mistake. I suffer and thrive from many things that you do, too. We could be one and the same, for all I know. We may not be so different after all. Thank you for your comments and encouragement on my posts, also. They really do mean a lot, and make me feel as though I’m on the right path with my writing.
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