Writing has always felt like a warm bed in a cold night. I was never amazing at it. My grammar was always off, never knew when to use the commas, periods or change a paragraph yet it always felt like the right thing to do. So I did. I wrote with a pen pal, I wrote on a journal, to a lover, on a kind of secret blog.
Always very cautious of who reads what I write. As social media started to expand, I started to contract. All this people I know and all I could think is what would they think of who I’ve become and what I have to say.
The more I work on myself, the more I have been able to understand that this fear, that this judgement, is not about what other people think about me. It’s about my inner bully showing up and saying all the mean things at the right time.
The only way to “fight” our inner bully is to stand by its side and give him the hug he never got. To say “I see you and you no longer have to protect me”
So Goodnight Bully we are going to bed.