Freedom...

Veteran's Day just passed and it got me thinking a lot about freedom. Freedom is a pretty precarious thing. Most wars are fought over freedom. People, every day, sign their lives away for an (almost) thankless job of protecting freedom. They fight for the freedoms of other people that don't even live in our country. They kill other people all for the sake of freedom.

To stop and think about it, it is a crazy, what one will do for freedom. What a nation or a society of people will do for freedom. For the freedom of others. It's amazing and terrifying.

I started this blog for freedom. I wanted, needed to have an outlet. Now, I am only marginally creative. I've never been one to paint or create or build. I've always been a reader and a writer. I started this blog for the creative expression. To write. To document. To vent. It was supposed to be a representation of me, my life, and my thoughts.

In starting a blog, there has to be a modicum of discretion. I've had to be careful in how I explain my thoughts, as to not upset anyone. I've had to ask permission to post things. I've posted in anger, in frustration, and sometimes I left it up. Other times I took them down.

At work, my boss always says, "Megan, put it in writing. Then there will be a record and there is no disputing it." She told me to be careful of what I write because its documented. It's locked in. You have a little wiggle room with tones - but the words are there forever. And how someone perceives those words is important. There are times when I have written and re-written an email because I felt it sounded snarky, or rude. Which is appropriate and right. At work you need to be professional, you need to keep emotions at bay and do your job.

While a margin of professionalism needs to bleed into this blog, since a large portion of my life takes place at work, I had every intention of being myself. I wanted to have an accurate representation of my life. Not for anyone else, but for myself. To have a place to be me, as unfiltered as possible. I wanted a space for my creativity to be unleashed.

Recently, I went back and read some posts and they don't sound like me. Most of the people that read this click on the link from facebook, or are family members or old school mates. And maybe a few of them could tell that I wasn't being me, that I wasn't writing how I would speak or interact with other people. Mainly, that was because I was so worried. I was worried about hurting feelings, of being taken out of context, of not being accepted, of not being understood.

How did my "space for my creativity to be unleashed" become about OTHER people?

I didn't want to step on toes, or let that fact that I'm a Christian and I say "shit" pretty regularly be called being hypocritical. Or if I wrote about how I'm a conservative republican being manipulated into being close-minded and hateful towards others.

Many of you reading this know me, but don't KNOW me. I don't let a whole lot of people in. Some take that as being rude or stuck up. Some think I am shy. Honestly, I AM shy. I am really, horrible insecure when it comes to making friends. I am awkward to the nth degree. But, if you are pushy enough (like most of my friends are), once I get comfortable, the Portuguese in me takes over and I am loud. And sometimes hilarious, and often quiet. But when I feel safe, I let myself be me.

So, since I am writing for myself, why am I not being ME? Why am I letting myself by caged in when this is MY outlet? How does that make any sense whatsoever?

The answer is it doesn't. It does make sense to not post in angry, or be flippant with words. Words have meaning and everyone should tread carefully. But on the flip side of that, people need to be true to themselves. I need to remember that I can state how I feel, by being respectful, but not compromising who I am.

Freedom of any kind is worth fighting for... and I intend to go down swinging.