Last week Stacey wrote a post about why she blogs (read it here). After reading it, it really got me thinking about why I’m here. Why do I sit down a few times a month to write about the things I think about? I’ve never really considered myself a writer and I’m usually not eager (like at all) to tell my story. I’d rather listen to someone else’s story or read someone else’s post than hear the sound of my own voice or read my own words. If you’ve ever met me in person you’ll probably know that I most likely won’t tell you anything about myself unless you ask me directly. I’m pretty young so I haven’t had the life experience that many of the bloggers on Willowjak do. Which oftentimes makes me wonder even more why I’m here. But, I’m still here. And after some thought, I think I know why. 

I won’t get into it too much because if you’ve been reading my posts you already know that Shy Liza is pretty shy. I’ve been shy since day one but more recently because of my school program and Willowjak I have started to unpack my shyness a little bit more and how it impacts how I experience the world. That’s the one unique thing about me that has kind of been a theme of my past posts, hence the name Shy Liza. 

When Stacey asked me to write for Willowjak I was shocked that she thought I could muster up good enough content to put on her site. After hearing about all the other people she asked I was even more shocked because I am definitely not as cool, educated or wise as all the other Willowjak writers. Why would anyone want to read about a young girl who doesn’t have kids? Who doesn’t even have a full time job? Who has had a pretty privileged life? Who doesn’t really have life figured out? Who doesn’t really have anything important to say? 

Besides loving the Haley family and everything they’re about, I think I’m here because this is the only way I’ll ever tell my story. Written word is such a safe place for Shy Liza to write what she will probably never say. 

I’m never going to walk into a room and brag about any of my accomplishments. Because that means that I’ll get attention. No thanks. I’m never going to volunteer facts about me if you don’t ask. This isn’t because I’ve got anything to hide but it’s because I find it impossible to interject a conversation unless I’m asked something. I don’t like my voice to be too loud so I don’t really ever speak up and say what I think. I’ll just think it, and that’s usually fine by me. Along with this, I cannot think on the spot. So, when put under pressure, I’ll come up with a quick answer so the attention can be taken off me. I’m never going to give you a long-winded answer because who in their right mind wants to hear about me?! Not me. 

It freaks me out writing blogs almost every time because it means I’ve got to give a part of me to readers that otherwise, they would probably never know. It means that I’m telling people information about me that I can never get back. Which means I have to be vulnerable when I’d rather be private. Because when I’m private I’m safe and avoid any disagreements or questions. But, blogging is helping me open up a little bit. Even though it feels scary sometimes, it still feels less scary than saying it out loud. 

Blogging gives me the opportunity to carefully craft what I want to say before I say it. It lets me plan and delete. I don’t have to raise my voice and I don’t have to see the people reading it. I’m not being put on the spot. I don’t have to interject into a conversation. I don’t have to hear my voice. I don’t have to think quickly and I don’t have to worry about saying the wrong thing or what people will think about me. I don’t have to worry about how I look when I’m talking or if I’m taking too long. 

It’s terrifying but I’m coming to realize that if all the Shy Liza’s out there never tell their stories the world will be worse for it. As much as shy people hate telling their story, we experience the world in such a confusing and quiet way and that’s something we’ve got to talk (or type) about. 

I’m not writing to overcome my shyness. I’m writing because I still feel like I don’t have a story to tell. But I still write blogs every week, so maybe I do. Maybe I do have a story to tell. Perhaps I do have thoughts worth listening to.  Maybe, I’ve just convinced myself that people like me don’t have anything important to say.

I’m writing my story because I’m never going to say it and I’ll just keep writing until I believe it’s important.