I know the best writers tell us stories about themselves. They tell us stories of their successes, failures, hurt and growth. They pour a little bit of themselves into every story they write. With a number of writers, there’s a great deal of personal information. They write about how they’ve been hurt and how they’ve survived. The stories are truly inspirational. But, they make me wonder how much of our personal lives do we need to pour into our stories to make them popular.
I have no qualms sharing stories of mistakes I’ve made or what I’ve learned about managing difficult situations in work life. My career tales are up for everyone to read. For most of the decisions were mine. In time, as I’ve learned from my mistakes I don’t mind sharing them with the hope that maybe they benefit someone.
But, what about my personal life stories? I haven’t exactly had an easy life. I’ve been blessed with a lot of good but, I’ve also struggled through a lot of bad. There are few people who know this and I don’t like to talk about it. I don’t want someone to someday Google me and find my life story poured out on the Internet only to know how many times I’ve been broken. Because I have been. I pick myself up and go on because it’s no one’s trouble to bear but mine.
I’ve written a lot of personal stories but, I’ve never posted them. I don’t think I have the courage, just yet. Sharing life lessons and stories about when I’ve been wrong is fine. I’m quite okay with writing about mistakes I made in my career and admitting how I should’ve reacted. My struggles with life in general and quest for emotional wellbeing is something I love to write about.
I’m open to sharing if it means not discussing deeply personal feelings. I don’t think I’m ready to share how I struggled with all that life has thrown at me. It can be a lonely road at times, and I find ways to cope.
Someday, when it won’t matter anymore, I probably will post all those stories. But, today is not that day, now is not the time.