I want to be seen.
I want to be understood.
I want them, I want you, to see the weight of what’s been.
I want you to know what I’ve done—can you accept what I’ve been and what I’ve done?
It’s an impulse. Self flagellation at its absolute worstest…
I’m leading with my mistakes and not my humanity.
What if they find out? What if they learn about the not-great things that I’ve done and they leave?
Then they leave. They get to do that. They’re not for you—they’re not in your corner. And that’s okay. It doesn’t feel great, sure, but people get to decide who they let in.
The point is that you and I are the sum of our choices and experiences. There is that part of us that has made the mistake, the bad choice, but that’s not the whole part; it’s not the entire story.
I am good; I am decent, but… Why the fuck can’t I let myself believe it? Why the urge to lead with the bad stuff and heavy stuff? Goddamnit. I know I am decent and flawed. It’s okay to be these things, it’s human… It’s every fucker I know
I guess the trick of it is to believe what you are, what you do, how you move about. Be honest about the lessons you learned. What were they? What am I carrying with me for the next time.
I’ve worked so hard to be here, folks. Really.