Finding my voice.

I find myself with a lot of opinions and either no place, or a hesitation, to express them. It wasn’t always like that. I used to dive head first into a battle of wits with anyone who had a view slightly outside of my own. But now…now, I stop to ponder if my opinion has merit, adds value, or really needs to be heard by anyone, but myself.

I wonder how I came to this place in my life. At a crossroads. Afraid to use my voice, vocalize what’s going on in this big ol’ brain of mine. It bothers me. If I’m being brutally honest with myself, it terrifies me. Too often I look around and wonder how this became my life. I have an advanced degree…that I don’t use. I have a serious medical illness…that I’m not doing anything to raise awareness about. I’m no longer in my 20s, yet, I don’t have anymore clarity about where I want to live, what I want to do, etc etc etc.

I’m alive and that’s beautiful.

I live in a country with freedoms that many people fight for.

I have two parents that love me and a sister…well, she tolerates me. It’s a work in progress.

But every night, and every day, there’s this feeling in the depth of my gut, in that dark place where longing and intuition meet up, that continues to tell me that I was meant for more. My life was meant to be something bigger, something bolder, something that makes a mark on the world, and leaves it for the better.

I don’t know what I’m expecting from this blog. Maybe it will provide me clarity. Maybe it will highlight my path. But my true hope, that in the process of it all, I re-find my voice.