Blog #259: More Vulnerability, More Self Reflection

As I was driving home from Chipotle today— yes, I got Chipotle two days in a row and I don't even feel bad about it— I was thinking about the evolution of my blog.

Back when I was in India, I feel like so many of my blog posts were riddled with inner conflicts, emotions, self-doubts, revelations, etc. They were... strikingly personal. I opened myself up to "the world" (mostly just Ally, Sarah, and my mom who were reading them all daily at that point), but I had no qualms with writing what was truly on my mind and soul at the time.

Presently, I feel as though every one of my blog posts is essentially "Today I did...".

That's so... unentertaining, disingenuous, impersonal.

With the windows down, the fair fall weather drifting through my hair and mind, and "Saw You In A Dream" by Japanese House playing through my car speakers, I wondered why this was.

Could it be as simple as the physical distance that separated me from most people I cared about while I was in India, which provided me the adequate space to feel comfortable being that open? Or, alternatively, was it the fact that I'm so unsatisfyingly busy here that I'm just too exhausted to write decent posts, let alone take the time to do the self reflection that I regularly did in India?

The drive home from Chipotle was short, and my train of thought cut short by my desire to dig into my burrito bowl, but I came to the conclusion that it's likely both.

First of all, it's way easier to be vulnerable when the people who know you best are literally thousands of miles away. In India, I could pour my heart into a blog post, and feel comfortable that few people would read it.

If Sarah and Mary Alice read it, so be it. They are absolutely beautiful people, and I felt comfortable sharing my innermost thoughts and feelings with them. Most of what I went through in India, they went through as well, which was comforting. What I wrote on the blog, I felt comfortable sharing with them in "real life".

If Ally and/or my mom read it (which they always did, at some point), it was also fine. They're both some of my closest confidants, but even if I wasn't sure exactly how they would digest something I posted on the blog, I could brush it off as a "semester in India" thing. Even though that's kind of dumb, I realized that was the truth of what I was feeling and thinking. Their never being in India allowed me a sense of secrecy, a sense of security upon which I could fall back on if they questioned what I was saying. They "wouldn't get it" anyway.

Now that I'm in such close proximity to most of the people I care about, I can't just avoid conversations about touchy topics. Even when I'm not the most proud of it, I'm not a particularly open person, so opening up is hard for me. Being vulnerable in my blog posts opens up the door to vulnerability in real life, which is something I tend to avoid. So, seeing as I now live with my most avid blog reader, and I'm just a five hour drive from my second-most avid reader, I maybe avoid diving deep into myself for my blog posts for fear of them being brought up in "real life". (Again, I put real life in quotes, not because my blog isn't real, but because the facade of security a screen provides often makes it feel unreal.)

Secondly, I also think I'm failing to be as reflective now because I'm so outrageously busy I seriously don't have the time to ponder what I'm feeling/thinking.

This is an error of my own doing, but an unfortunate error nonetheless.

By the time I start writing a blog post most nights, I'm so exhausted I can barely keep my eyes open.

Between class, two jobs, lacrosse, and other clubs and organizations on campus, you'd think I'd have plenty to write about. Yet, at the end of the day, I'm so exhausted my brain comes up with nothing. I draw absolute blanks, and end up writing "today I took a nap..."

Seriously?! That's horrid.

Still, I enjoy all of the things that are making me so busy, and so it's difficult to find fault in this habitual busyness. But, at the end of the day, what's the point in doing so much that I can't even think, learn, and grow from it at the end of the day?

It's pointless.

I don't have a solution. To any of this. All I know is that I miss the vulnerability I embraced in India, and also that I've listened to "Saw You In A Dream" approximately 11 times in a row while writing this blog post. I also took a dance break to dance to it, but that doesn't change the fact that I've had the song on repeat for half an hour now...

Part of me wants to just be as vulnerable as possible, being incredibly honest with everyone around me. The other part, the core part of me, clings to the idea of hiding my innermost self from others. That's just my natural inclination.

I also know that the "answer" to this predicament depends on who I'm asking. Sarah would tell me to be vulnerable no matter what, to live my most honest life. I admire her for that. It's just hard.

Most of the time I have a nice conclusion for my blog posts. Tonight, I don't have one, and I don't want to make up a "I can't wait to be more vulnerable" conclusion for the sake of a good post. I don't know how I'm going to move forward once classes and practice start again. I'd like to say I'm going to embrace vulnerability more, but I also know that will be difficult and it won't always be the case.

And, when it comes down to it, I guess that's the conclusion... of all of my blog posts. I'm still just trying to figure everything out, and I have very few answers, if any. I will try to be more vulnerable, to take more time to self reflect, but I can't promise that will be an everyday occurrence either. Even though I don't like the sound of it, that's the honest truth, and I guess that's where being more vulnerable starts. Vulnerability starts with honesty, even when it's not pretty. So, here's to more vulnerability, more honesty, and more self reflection. I think we could all use a little bit of that.

This is me crying literal tears into my aforementioned Chipotle burrito bowl whilst watching the finale of Broad City. It was devastating.