Can I be a truth-teller and a helper?

Some of you know me from years and years back.

Back when I was so vulnerable. When nothing was off-limits. When the hard stuff flowed just as freely as what-I-ate-today posts.


But somewhere along the line, I got scared. I want to be a voice of support and encouragement for you. I want you to trust me with your own stuff. I want to be a helper. And, because of that, I have been reluctant to share my own shit. Because will you really trust me to help you if you see what a mess my inner workings are?

I hope so.

I am making a conscious decision. I am making a statement. A few, actually.

I will write more. I will not be afraid of the truth. I will not be afraid of letting you see me messy.


I wish I could say that I am making this statement as a victorious battle cry. That it is a middle finger to those that may think I'm weak or incapable of helping anyone else. But that's not the case. 

I am writing again because I need to write. I need to speak. All of this yoga is knocking all of the cobwebs off. And I am ready. 

I am rusty, my friends. Please stick with me.