I mean, forgive me for stating the obvious. If you've been reading this blog, you know that already.
And sometimes people wonder why.
Sometimes I wonder why. Especially when the things I write about are sad, or painful, or potentially embarrassing.
So why? Why write about these things? Have a little decorum, woman!
There are the unkind explanations as to why I write so openly (slash shamelessly): Lack of discretion. Emotional exhibitionism. Attention-seeking. Or a breathtaking lack of self-awareness.
But that's not it. I'm an INFJ, remember? We are, as a general rule, both painfully self-aware and doggedly interior. In some ways, I know I'm on the right track with a new post when I find myself pausing before I hit "Publish." That's when I know I'm saying something meaningful, taking a little bit of a risk. That's when I know I have some skin in the game.
I'll tell you why I do it: Because all of life is a journey, and the shortest distance between two points is "Me, too."
Think back to any difficult thing you've experienced. I don't care whether it was losing someone you loved or having a terrible illness or being disrespected or just waiting in line for 30 minutes only to have the barista screw up your tall double decaf soy frappa-latte. When you're in the heat of it, feeling sad or angry or hurt or humiliated or frustrated, what's the single most soothing sound? Having someone else say "Me, too."
Knowing there is someone else out there who has felt what you feel--in a world where we are too often lonely despite (or because of) the pressing crush of people all around us? When you're ashamed, when you're hiding something, when you're afraid to tell the truth? When you're bursting with pride? So happy you're afraid to breathe a word of it for fear you might jinx yourself?
Me, too. Two little words that are a bridge, a ladder, a light. Two little words that uplift, unite, validate. Suddenly you are not alone. You can relate. And that's the first step to realizing we are all related.
So I write about all of it--the silly and the embarrassing, the accomplishments and the horrible mistakes, because I am NOT unique. No matter what, someone else out there has done/been/seen the same thing, and wherever that person is, I want them to know: Me, too.
Me, too, baby. ME. TOO. Sometimes all in the same damn day. And that's OK. That's good. It means you're here, and so am I, and we are in this human race together. So lace up. Ready?
Except for the tentacles on the sunglasses. Better to say "Not me."