I was afraid

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Before I started this blog, I talked and talked about it. It was an item on my ‘This-Time-I’ll-do-it’ list. You know that list, right? You must have one too. I don’t know how yours works, but mine just seems to grow numerically. More and more line items. Barely any marked ‘done’ or at the very least ‘attempted’.

But I take comfort in my list. It makes me feel like I’m doing something. Going somewhere. Each line item representing a thumbtack on my map. Oh, you should see my map…it’s a work of beauty.  A colorful maze of strategy. Never you mind if it appears static! I’m simply planning.

As I did with the blog. I planned more seriously than a general leading his troops to war. And then I planned some more. The mission was critical; the gains were unknown; the fails were limitless. And so I scrutinized every angle. Double-checked every voice of ‘reason’.

Once, I asked Steve – you remember Steve, right? He of the ‘Boy meets girl’ swimming coach saga? Yes, him. Turns out, the coaching gig is his night job. Is anyone shocked?

Anyway, I asked Steve if there would be any pressure to post articles once the blog was up and running. He burst out laughing.

“What pressure? It’s your platform. You do whatever you want, whenever you want!”

A whole year after this conversation, I finally plucked up my nerve. OK, this is only half the truth. The other half is that Steve basically issued an ultimatum.

“Look here Missy – it is five days to Christmas, so get your act together and do a Christmas post already!”

So I did. And then my nerves really kicked in. No pressure, indeed!

“Steve, what do you think of my article?”

“I’m traveling right now. I haven’t read it.”


“Lamech, please check out my blog.”


“Maina, please check out my blog.”


Jackie, Lena, Juliex3, Patrick, Shirlyn, Winnie.  My inner circle was silent. And I was going crazy! They hated it and they just didn’t know how to say it without hurting my feelings. I chewed on that, and then I stewed, and then I got really mad. Say something, damn it!

I finally heard back from Jackie in the wee hours of the night. OK. It was only 8pm.

“I’ve had a really long day -”

Oh, don’t bullshit me lady!

“- but I’ll read this before I go to bed, promise.”

Great! I wonder what excuses the rest of the bunch will come up with.

At that moment, I would have given anything to turn the clock back to that morning. I so badly missed the bliss of planning. The silence on the battleground was brutal! Never ending!

In truth, it was barely half an hour since I’d shared the link with anyone. That’s how severe my melt down was!

The inner circle finally came through.  They reached through the vast wilderness and held my digital hand. My nerves relaxed a little bit. Time took care of the rest.

Eventually, it dawned on me that I was still breathing. It might seem ridiculous, that I was that petrified about launching something this small. But to me, it wasn’t just a blog. It was me, bare on the table. It was my dream, fragile and alone on the battle field. It was nothing. It was everything. It was freedom on the mountain top.

I finally stopped planning long enough to draw my sword and slay the giant of fear.

Well, ‘slay’ is an exaggeration. I merely brought the bugger to his knees. He’ll be back soon enough –  casting a shadow over every item on my ‘This-Time-I’ll-do-it’ list. I suppose I’ll just have to keep drawing my sword. Maybe someday I’ll put him down for good. Meantime, this sword-drawing thing is really growing on me!

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  1. You always sound strong… I didn’t know u get those as well… but hey, u always make my Sunday nights in this boring journies. Thank you for beating the bugger it reminds me a lot about ​MISH. Lol

  2. well it’s been almost 2 hrs since you dropped this I hope am safe…🙄.
    we all have weak points but am sure glad you got over yrs. thank you Steve, the swim coach.
    You do write amazingly. I couldn’t write that well and for that matter I couldn’t share my blog. 😐
    Am really proud of your writing especially the poetry.🖒

  3. That aspect of the blog laying you bare is so true especially with the way you have included personal stories. Some people don’t have the cojones to do that! It’s well illustrated in Oscar Wilde’s A Picture of Dorian. The artist was afraid to paint Dorian’s portrait because it would reveal, not Dorian’s face but, the artist’s soul.

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