When I was young, I would write for hours: historical fiction, young adult fiction (teeny-bopper young adult fiction because my more life changing experiences hadn’t happened yet, and it was all I knew), angst-ridden poems (real angst that now seems somewhat over-dramatized), pages of notes to my friends. I would write because I felt like I had something to say, because I wanted to, and because I loved being able to express myself in a way that would last beyond ephemeral spoken words or thoughts. I wrote to remember, to explore, and to create.

Then, I got sucked into writing what I thought I should write. Should for the sake of achieving. Should for the sake of value. Should for the approval of someone else.

Since then, it’s been harder to write freely.

I’m writing this now because this morning, I thought that I might write a “follow Friday” post on a few awesome organizations I ran across on my Twitter and Facebook feed.  While initially inspired by this idea, I realized that, given all that I have going on right now, this type of blog post was actually not what I wanted to write.

I wanted to write without restriction, structure or guidance.  Given that I’m trying to write what I’m supposed to write in my day job (mostly article manuscripts, e-mails and lecture powerpoints), I need this blog to be a space where I can write whatever is on my mind and what comes freely.  It’s my blog. My space. My choice.  Even if no one else reads, retweets and pays attention.

Because, you know what? My words matter to me and the act of writing what I want sometimes is the first step in my own mental liberation…and that’s pretty cool.