Method to the Madness: What I have to say.
It seems these days that everyone has a blog. People my age, I refuse to adopt the title of Millennial, are often shirking what I grew up calling a "Real Job" to become full time You Tubers, and Instagram Influences and what not. This is not why I am writing this blog. Let me explain.
A few years ago, I was a college sophomore. OK, maybe not a few years, it was over a decade ago. But it was the Sunday before I was scheduled to go back to campus and I had just been prayed over at church. I was raised Catholic and every new school year the congregation prays over all the students. I happened to be the only one in college. One of the older ladies, Mrs. Eiland, pulls be to the side on our way to Hospitality, and makes a request.
"I want you to talk to the young girls in the congregation. I have watched you grow from a little girl to beautiful young woman. I believe you have a lot of advice that you could give them."
I scoffed at the idea. After all I had in my 19 years, gone through depression, I had given up on a dream, and I didn't feel like I had the right to tell them anything. I was a loner. I didn't make brave decisions. I shirked what everyone else wanted me to do. I was overweight and unconventionally beautifully, so it wasn't as if boys were knocking down my door. I was convinced that I had fooled her they way I was convinced I had fooled everyone else into believing that I had my life together while I was left trying to make sure I had all the pieces.
When I went back to school, I was talking to my campus mom about something a paper that I had written. I don't remember what the prompt for the paper was but I had interpreted in my own way and wrote a satirical piece on how to survive your Freshman Year of College, living with nudist and an exhibitionist.
"You know, you should write a column. Giving girls advice on different things. You are a very secure young woman, I think you could really do some good."
Again I scoffed and told her about what Mrs. Eiland had said and as I'm sure you have expected, she agreed. "I'm not as together as you all think. I honestly believe that I am Manic Depressive half the time. I'm just secure in my insecurities and have learned how to hide everything else."
"And that is the advice that you should give. Just tell your story. You are more put together than you think you are."
So that is what I'm doing. I'm sharing my story. The good parts, the bad parts, the shitty parts, and the unbelievable parts. I have reached an age where I can honestly see that I am blessed. Sure I still have bad days and really bad days, and I have some good days. I have had triumphs and failures and will continue to have them until the day I make my final transition. I think I do have something to say; and I'm willing to share it with anyone who wants to listen.