Everything is open to interpretation. I could read the same thing as another person and have a completely different perspective. As I wrote earlier on the affects of over dramatics and such, I was met with a variety of comments. I was confused. Did I say something to indicate I was less than happy? Was I somehow complaining? Then I forget most people who read my blog don’t really know me in the sense that I am very tongue and cheek sprinkled with sarcasm. I do stand behind my point of my previous blog – our society being overly sensitive among other things – and it was proven by some of the comments. Apparently, my message was merely lost in translation.
I was reminded by one of my favorite writers, Glennon Doyle Melton, that what I put out there in the world for others to read, is no longer mine. It is intertwined by the reader’s interpretation and it is really none of my business what they feel or think about it. Makes sense that in conversing with others, we listen to respond and that reading could be approached in the same way. I no longer take other’s perceptions personally. I own my truth. I don’t need to defend it, I just need to release it. However, I am grateful that my writing can spark a conversation and that people feel comfortable sharing their views with me.
That’s the beauty of being transparent. Nobody has to guess where I am coming from. There are no smoke and mirrors here. The truth no longer takes up space within me because I lay it out there like a buffet. Take what you like and leave the rest seems like a mantra we could all use in a time where we all seem to walk on egg shells.
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