Let’s Make This A Thing

I was inspired by reading my dead aunt’s journal and not recognizing the woman behind the words. It was written in her hand, and used her tone of voice, but her version of events threw me for a loop. So many of her entries were imbued with pain; I swore I knew a happier woman.

Thumbing through my latest journal, I found myself guilty of the same sin. The uplifting entries were few and far between, and most of  what I wrote would probably be seen, to any eye but my own, as a cry for help. We the writers– we the humans– get so caught up in documenting our devastation that we forget the other half of the story. If you read ten pages of my current journal, you’d know how many times I questioned 2016’s intent to ruin me. You’d know about my uncertainty regarding whether or not I know how to be a friend. You’d witness the mental slop storm that ensues when I feel forgotten in plain sight. But you’d see no indication of the inner glow I feel when I catch a glimpse of my summertime skin. You’d have no knowledge of the delightful day I had with my mother and sister at the Vintage Virginia wine festival. You’d be unaware of just how lit the Price family is when we throw back-to-back block parties in Brooklyn.

My fear is this: that somewhere down the line, someone will find my journal(s) and only see the sad things. I can’t have that. I can’t have someone reading my story and thinking that heartache was all I ever knew. If one day my writing will be all that’s left of me, then I’d better start writing the good things.

I’ve added this to my journaling philosophy, prompting myself every few pages: If one day my writing will be all that’s left of me, then I’d better start writing the good things.

Writing the good things was hard at first. I’d write maybe one or two things and fill the remaining lines with question marks. Clearly self-positivity is a muscle that must be flexed…often. So today, in my flexing, I’m sharing my latest and longest list yet.

The Good Things, Juneteenth 2016:

• I am one of the 4% of women in the world who believes she is beautiful. Truly.
• I’m sinfully good at Scrabble
• I’m thoughtful and give the best gifts.
• I am an exceptional writer.
• I’m an amazing entertainer. I feel like I’ve won a little lottery every time I make someone laugh.
• I have a huge heart of service.
• Children (super-seers of the soul) love me.
• I make really good mac & cheese (ask about me).

If one day my writing will be all that’s left of me, I want to ensure that anyone who happens upon my chronicles happens upon the truest representation of me, the whole woman. A woman who was happy and sad and scared and jealous and loving and secretive and open and spiteful and nurturing. They’ll undoubtedly see the bumps in my road, but I need more to be said for me than a bunch of sad stuff. So, if one day my writing is all that’s left of me, I’d better start writing the good things.

I wish you recognition of all your good things.

I want to know your good things!

Using the hashtag #TheGoodThings (or, you know, just commenting them) to declare some of the good things about yourself will tell me two things:

1. That you read this (or at least scrolled) all the way to the bottom.
2. Exactly what kind of amazing person I’m dealing with.

Let’s make this a thing! Happy Today!