As of this being typed on my phone, I have started a number of entries already, only to either have given up on them out of disinterest or lack of justification, because after further consideration deemed they were too private, or I somehow found a way to graduate from whatever issue I felt the need to blog about.
It’s strange that we inherently devalue the power of our story the more we feel the need to share it. I firmly believe that many people, transgender or not, have found what appears to most as strength in keeping their stories hidden from the eyes of others. It, or rather they, are safe from scrutiny and lose nothing for making that choice.
Or do we?
On the off chance there is someone that could gain something from our perspective, how ever whiny or unintelligently conveyed, should that not be enough if the space and timing call for it? Most bloggers would give a resounding “yes”, but I am only just starting to agree with this notion. I will always stand by the belief that starting a blog in the first place takes faith and bravery in and of itself. Thus, we should have the freedom to write what we want, how we want, whenever we want.
What changed was my complimentary belief of there being power in keeping my stories to myself. Lately, I have begun to doubt this. Much of my true story has been left untold, and a story only has power through a shared experience. You would think that a memoir blog such as mine would innately be against that line of thinking. Meganekko Memoirs holds many personal secrets, but as my life opens up even further, I feel ever more inclined to challenge myself (and you – whomever you are, how ever you live) to share meaningful perspectives of our life’s reality that can have the chance to gain potential power as a connected experience among wandering denizens of the internets.
After all, your reality – your story – is the only one that can ever be told. And today might be your last chance for someone to listen.