Some readers of my blog might think that I am
It’s true that I have described myself as “an intelligent… talented… successful young woman” who is “ridiculously attractive” and “a speed dating rock star”.
It’s also true that most of my posts involve some sort of explanation about why one guy or another isn’t a good fit for me. Some are socially awkward. Others have poor grammar. Still others hide the fact that they have children. No biggie.
I can understand why some folks might get the impression that I have a victim mentality and that I either believe I have already attained perfection or that I am completely absorbed with my own brokenness. I readily admit that I have walls up and have become cynical about love. But I also openly acknowledge that I am in a season of refinement, and I wholeheartedly believe that God is in the process of taking away my heart of stone and giving me a tender, responsive heart of flesh.
I don’t write because I think that the world revolves around me or that everyone else should be enamored with the daily dramas of my life. In fact, I barely have any followers – less than 50 – and most of them don’t even know my real identity.
I write because it’s therapeutic. I write because it helps my mind process events and observations. And I write publicly, even if no one is reading, because it keeps my journal entries from veering into the realm of the depressed and the truly “woe is me.”
Writing publicly forces me to change my mindset to see the humor in life situations and to try to learn from the experiences God allows to come into my life. And if someone gets a laugh out of my adventures in the process, all the better.