I have done myself an incredible disservice in thinking that I am too unimportant and also too important to keep an online journal—unimportant in comparison to unheard voices and game changers, and too important next to spectacles, exhibitionists, and pretty people with shiny things.
And at the end of the day, what do I really have to say?
After months, we—the many different parts of me—have come to the realization that content is less important than practice. In the beginning, anyway. Hell, if I worried about the quality of my content all the time, you would never read a thing.
Also, I don't think I could ever forgive myself for keeping quiet my everyday thoughts as well as my thoughts on larger matters, like love and family and femininity, when I have the tools and the platform to share them. In fact, one might argue that I have too many tools. I would not be the person I believe myself to be if I continued to live in the not-so-comfortable comfort of my own quiet smugness while listening to the same voices repeat their unrelatable stories.
As a queer woman, a Filipino American, a true introvert (extrovert by duty, influence, and circumstance), and a writer, I should have a little more faith in my own thoughts and experiences, right? I should record my thoughts just as they are, outside of paid work and beyond playful banter. If not me, then who?
Anyway, I should add that there will be limits to what I post here. Due to my background in education and leadership, there are some things I cannot say so plainly. Despite this, I will do my best to write as honestly as possible.
Before I nod off, here's a thought that's been on my mind: There is a paunchy bug going around, its belly fat with self-righteousness and a sense of entitlement. I have contemplated squashing it dead, but I do not want to dirty my hands. I will ignore it to the very end. Have you ever been in a situation like that?
I understand that that was annoyingly cryptic, especially after my grand spiel, but I know what it means, and well, that is enough for me.