Open Book

Tonight I was talking with someone who recently found my blog and he commented on how open I am about my life and all that I am going through.  My mother brought up how such things embarrassed her and in her opinion some things were meant to be kept private.  This actually really got me thinking as I did not always used to be open.  Very much the opposite actually.  I felt I never knew who I was, and the things that were me, for some reason I felt needed to be hidden.  I was frequently depressed, reserved, and alone.  This all changed for me when I met my freshman roommate and best friend.  She was a bundle of bubbly personality and complete, frank, openness.  It amazed me as she so easily and willingly shared the most intimate parts of her life with me, down to her hopes, fear, and even regrets.  I loved how I always knew where she was or what she thought and little did she know, but she was slowly pushing me from the tight little bubble I held myself within.  Then there was the car accident.  I know I have mentioned time and time again the difficulty I had that year as I dealt with all that I lost as well as the difficult recovery, but after having survived I felt I had something worth sharing.  Slowly I opened myself up and began refining who I was and sharing myself and my story with others.  However, what completely opened the doors for me was my education; specifically one teacher and mentor. 
The more I read classics, and great works of literature the more I fell in love with the written word.  Although I never deemed myself a writer, I learned through the love I had for literature, a release and comprehension of my experience and emotions when communicated through the written word.  I shared the first chapter of my memoir (which at that point was just an explanation of the accident) to this teacher and she commented on how it was the strongest, and most honest writing she had seen from me.  Her praise of it's truth and the power it held spoke to me and stayed in my heart as I decided to continue with it in hopes or sharing the most intimate parts of my life through my writing.
Over the years as I have worked on my memoir there have been several parts I have really struggled with as I debated, what I should share, and expose myself completely to the judgments of others.  Over and over again, I personally felt this: If I was ashamed, I had reason to be ashamed and maybe sharing this will help someone else in a similar situation and hold me accountable for the choices I made, allowing me to commit to uphold the changes I have made. I do feel there are some things that are sacred and should be held onto for oneself and those closest, but for me, I feel I have nothing to hide.  I know the devil hides things in obscurity and secrets and it has taken time, but have come to the point where I lay it all out there.  Sure I probably offend people at times, and I apologize if that is EVER the case and I have been hurt from time to time as people have chosen to judge me for what I share, but in the end I have no shame as I feel through my writing of my experience and everything else, I am only sharing who I am and I want people to see me for what I have become.