How I Conquered My Fear Of Sharing My Soul With The World
By: Ashley Sosebee
Tags: Beyourself, Self Improvement, Creativity, Health, Life Lessons

How I Conquered My Fear Of Sharing My Soul With The World

Photo by Fred Kearney on Unsplash

Have you ever had someone read your diary? A book you keep with you that has all of you? A journal? Every tear and emotion. Raw and real. You at your best and worst.

Until this year, it was my absolute worst fear.

I stated writing at the age of 9 almost every day. I always had a notebook hidden away somewhere. I never called it a diary because it wasn’t a daily record of anything. I poured out my feelings, my deepest darkest fears, ugly secrets. All in to a small notebook.

The thought of anyone else having a look into my soul terrified me. I am not kidding you when I say I would keep these books hidden. Under everything in a dresser drawer or in a different bedroom. It wasn’t because I didn’t trust anyone around to not to read it. I trusted them. I couldn’t fathom anyone else knowing my mistakes, fears, or feelings in their truest form.

When I finished with my first book at the age of 9, I knew right then I had to get rid of it. I don’t exactly know why I had the urge to burn it. I burned it though. It gave me a sense of relief. Like, nothing in the book could ever come back to haunt me. Everything in that book, I let go. The feelings, mistakes, and fears. It was freeing. Almost like starting fresh, a new notebook clean pages.

Yes, I was 22 in my bathroom drinking and sobbing while my husband was at work. Making sure to not burn the house down while I burned a small book. Waiting for him to get home and say, “what’s burning?”.

I did this until I got pregnant with my daughter. At this point in my life, I had stopped writing so much. I was much happier, so I felt like I didn’t have much to get off my chest. My daughter is 3, and this year I have written more than I have in my whole life.

Watching my baby grow makes me wished I had kept all my books. I wished that one day she might be able to read my soul. Would it would keep her from feeling so alone and misunderstood like I did? Would she would feel as if she knew me before I was a mother and wife?

When I started writing again this year, I knew I had to keep everything.

After I decided to keep my writings I started to think about blogging. I joined Medium and wrote so many blogs. Stories, mistakes, everyday happenings. I couldn’t bring myself to hit publish. My long-held fear, of exposing my whole self for everyone to see, sat back in with force.

I thought about deleting my account.

I read through every single story I had written again and again. Contemplating on pressing that button. When I reread “If He Loved You More Than Drugs, He Would Quit”, I thought about the children of addicts. I thought about how they must feel so alone like I did. I wondered if they could read my story, would they feel less alone too? Would they feel understood?

I PUSHED THE BUTTON.

I cried. Not because of fear. Because the overwhelming feeling of relief and being free were back. How was I feeling as if I had burned one of my books? It felt so good. I didn’t even care if anyone read it. It was out there, I put myself out there.

Over the next few days, I received so many messages and text. People I knew, and people I didn’t. Telling me how they are going through the same thing. How they needed to read that. How it helped them. I sobbed reading every single message. Not only did I feel understood, but they did also. I felt as if my story mattered, and the truth is it does.

Every single person has a story, and it’s IMPORTANT.

Choosing to share mine, wasn’t easy. Letting the whole world and most importantly my daughter see the whole me. It was the best decision I have ever made. The fear I had held onto for so long, is no longer present.

So, if you’re hesitating or afraid, let it go. In life, love, and art. Sharing YOU, is your only obligation to this world.

-Ash