I have received a significant amount of thank you letters over the past week--more than usual. All from strangers, yet, their remarks of gratitude had something in common: “Thank you for writing. Thank you for sharing your story. Thank you for your presence on this planet. Please keep writing. Please get back into blogging. The world needs more women like you.”
How does one even begin to respond? I want to be able to sit down with my laptop and write more than, “you’re welcome.” To live in 2016's shadow of honesty, that spark of inspiration hasn’t quite been there for me. I am mentally in a place where I want to dedicate a post as a sincere apology as to my absence over the last three months. Instead of reflecting on all of the posts I could've written, or simply brushing it aside, I decided the best thing for me to do now, is to write.
This lapse in posts has happened once before--for a similar duration of time. Although the circumstances were different, the conditions were the same. High stress. I have a lot to be grateful for, and one of my readers reminded me of that. Her note made me realize just how lucky I was to be alive.
She thanked me for sharing my story and positivity. She said that I helped her see her own herpes diagnosis as more of a gift when it came to love, rather than a curse--as I (and most) once saw it. She continued, that the day she told her best friend that she contracted herpes, her friend had something to share, as well--she had liver cancer. This girl relayed that her HSV-2 diagnosis was immediately put into perspective, because all of the sudden, it was no longer the end of the world for her. Unfortunately, for her friend, it was. Suddenly, our burdens no longer carry the same weight.
Thank you for inspiring me, and letting me see myself from the readers' point of view. I tend to read myself quite well, but sometimes, I need that reminder of my purpose and passions to feel alive again..