So here's something that's been replaying in my mind as long as I can remember.
I'm boring.
I am the forgettable, quiet, brunette 'girl next door' who is, well...boring. I don't have any hobbies, I don't study fascinating subjects or travel to exotic places, or create something unique or play a musical instrument. I don't do anything that I think should make someone interesting. Yet, I know other people who don't do these things I and I find them so interesting. I tell myself it's because I love people. But do other people who may or may not 'love people' find me interesting? This is an insecurity I have that has always caused me hesitation about writing a blog, even though it's something I've wanted to do for a long time. I created this account years a go and have let it sit there.
Somewhere along the line by the grace of God I discovered that I am not what I thought I was. I'm not boring. Imagine that. I have to say that the people closest to me who invite me to be my most true self have helped me to discover who that is. I appreciate those in my life who were so very comfortable in their own skin and at ease with themselves when I wasn't. It provoked me to just be...come what may from every part of my being...all the good stuff, all the ugly stuff and the stuff in between.
Insightful and sometimes witty and smart, open minded, living with courage and heart, hesitant still but maintains a strong will, adventurous, thirsty for life, dancing - singing - praying - laughing - playing - crying...reality TV pulls at me, I want to read more but I have Bravo and E, caring for the pup has changed my days, kept me from the chronic haze of lazy dayz - yeah with a Z. Hard work on behalf of others, sometimes grateful, sometimes irritated as all get out. Excited about what is to come and wondering if I will ever 'settle down.' Still single, sometimes grateful, sometimes irritated as all get out. Ah the realm of human emotion and experience.
Here's to not being boring.
