On Being a Scaredy Cat

I don’t know about you but when I’m exercising, the only way that I know I’m doing it right is when it hurts.

If I’m following a pilates class and not breaking a sweat or shaking from muscle exhaustion, alarm bells start to clang in my head. Rightfully or not, I carry these sentiments over into a lot of other fields.

Wheatgrass smoothie tastes absolutely disgusting? Must be good for me!

Waxing my legs feels like the fiery depths of hell? Must be way better than shaving.

Thinking of a blog post and then really not wanting to write it? That should be the one to crack on with today.

I recently watched a video in which a very wise woman extolled the virtues of letting fear be your compass, and it really struck a chord with me. So since then I’ve been aiming to recognize fear or unwillingness in all of the above scenarios and make myself do the things I would love to avoid. And I’ve been pretty good at it, if I do say so myself.

• Starting a blog – check.
• Opening up about the reality of moving abroad and having no friends – done.
• Pitching articles to real life magazines – nailed it.
• Promoting my blog to existing friends and family – … Hey, one thing at a time guys.

 

So here I am, pouring my heart and soul into these words and yet I genuinely couldn’t think of anything worse than people I know coming across it. I don’t know if it’s the stigma of being one of those “bloggers” or just the honesty of these pages, but I really don’t want to share this with my loved ones. I’m embarrassed.

Initially I toyed with the idea of writing anonymously, but it just seemed like way too much effort! So I used my real name, accepting a life of near-constant fear that with every post posted, a colleague or family member will drop me a note;

“Wow. Never had you down as the ‘blogging type’.”

“Pretty self involved, dontcha think?”

“So you’re a BBLLOOOOGGEERRR now, are you?”

Nobody has ever said these words to me, they come entirely from inside my head. Sadly, this is a truth easier typed than believed.

This morning, however, my worst fears were confirmed. Not one, but two of my dear friends found my dirty little secret.

I had foolishly posted on Twitter, banking on the fact that I have a mortifyingly low number of followers and that most of my friends haven’t used the platform in years. But these two, these sneaky little tweeters, had decided that yesterday was the day to reignite their passion for the 140 character statement. Brilliant.

“Speaking of [irrelevant conversation topic we were discussing], I found your blog last night.”

“Oh. You did?”

“How do you find time to write so well every single day!? I read all your posts in bed, it’s so good! Will there be more tomorrow?”

In a shocking and unexpected turn of events, my friends were supportive and nice to me. Plot twist or what?

 

So am I shouting about this thing from the rooftops and printing banners to hang outside of my apartment? Not quite.

But do I feel slightly closer to fanning the flames of this candle I’ve gone and lit? That’s a strong maybe.

 

How did you manage sharing your blog with friends and family? Do you have tips to help get me through it? Or should I keep it hidden forever? Let me know in the comments!