7.10 What I know.

The constant overthinking about not wanting to conform lingers in my mind. Will I be judged for how I write or simply for what I want to discuss? Is it selfish to create a personal blog? God, if you’re reading this, blink twice. Seriously though, for 24 years I’ve lived my life for others—playing sports I didn’t enjoy and loving men who never truly knew me, only the version I presented for them. I don’t know. I. Do. Not. Know. My therapist wouldn’t let me get away with “I don’t know” because I do know. More than ever, I know. I know I wouldn’t be happy with the men I’ve dated. I know I’ve accepted less than I deserve in every aspect of my life. The conflict I feel is like swallowing a pill for the first time—stuck in the back of my throat, painful, with no resolution in sight. For the first time in my life, I am alone. Alone with no social media, no men running around. Alone with Serina. And I’ve never been alone with her before, but she isn’t such bad company anymore. She (in third person) has come a long way, though she still seeks attention and acknowledgment. Why else would she start this blog? For attention? Maybe for connection. Or perhaps because she’s so lost in her mind that the words are dying to come out. A hamster wheel of thoughts with no hamster in sight. Just a girl living, loving (sort of), writing, and barely surviving