I keep hearing that lately. "Your story is important."
Every time I hear it, I picture me pointing at myself, with a look of disbelief. "Me?"
The truth is, as much a fan as I am of my story (I love writing and it's always been my way to process my emotions), I doubt that anyone else can be inspired by it.
I mean, there are far more inspirational stories out there. Mine's kinda boring by comparison.
Being a mom of youngins adds to these feelings. No one really cares how many dirty diapers I changed today... and as a mom, I sometimes feel less important than the people with REAL meaning to their lives. The people working for charities, heading up support groups, starting businesses and thriving. Who wants to hear about a lady who thinks she's probably at least a little certifiable, and does a bunch of random crap for fun? Where is the great inspiration behind that?
In fact, that's probably why, if you'll notice, I took a break from blogging on here for a while. I got so driven by the numbers and started to use them to gauge my value. Even when there were a lot of numbers, I felt stupid when there weren't any comments. And then I realized that my story probably just doesn't matter.
What's one story when there are millions of stories to look for, right? And millions of perspectives to read. So many people are better at wording their stories than I am.
Well... I don't know what one story is against millions. But I'm not even sure that's what it's about. I think it's about the ONE person who my story MIGHT touch. The ONE person who may identify with it. The ONE person who could gain strength from knowing my weaknesses.
That's who I want to share my story with.
The other day, I took a chance and shared a snippet of my story. I started writing a document called "The Hard Parts" about the difficult parts of my journey. I shared a piece about my schizophrenic uncle, thinking no one would find it significant... but someone did. Someone happened to read it, who had dealt with the same sort of thing with her brother. She said that what I wrote had brought her to tears, and she thanked me for writing it.
That's the kind of person I want to write for.
Not the masses.
Just the one lonely soul, who, like myself, is just trying to figure out their way.
I may not be the one to show them the way... but I will travel alongside them.