Why not?

Many years ago - probably about 25, give or take - I went on holiday to Devon.  We stayed at a glorious little bed and breakfast place, which had its own organic farm.  It only had three guest rooms and everybody that was staying met for dinner at the same time, around a single, large wooden table.  We stayed for three or four nights and met some very interesting people - one of whom I still remember, even now.

I don't remember his name and I have only a vague recollection of what he looked like but I do remember that he was about the age that I am now and, like I did at the time, he worked in financial services.  We got to talking and - god knows how the conversation took this turn - I confessed to him that I wanted to wear a three piece suit to work but I was afraid of what people would say.*

I've forgotten his advice but the conversation stays with me, even now, because of what it says about me, rather than about him or his advice.  There I was, an apparently functional adult, outwardly mature enough to get married (although, as it turned out, not quite mature enough to stay married) but inwardly too scared even to wear what I wanted. Because I was afraid of what people might say.

Someone once told me that my biggest problem was I wanted the world to love me.  I disputed that at the time and I still do - I think I have way bigger problems than that - but the sentiment is true: I do want the world to love me.  It bothers me when people don't like me.  I don't think that's particularly unique.  I'm willing to bet that a lot of people feel the same, to a greater or lesser extent.

A week ago, I posted a piece wondering why I was continuing with this blog, because I said it didn't feel "safe" anymore.  I guess that, when I parse that statement, what I meant was I had a strong suspicion that people who didn't like me were reading it.  In fact, I began to suspect that people didn't like me because of what I was writing. And that left me not feeling safe.

Since writing that piece, some of you have been kind enough to contact me and offer words of encouragement and I'd like to thank you for that.  The question I asked in that piece was "why?"  After giving it some thought, the answer that I've come up with is, "why not?"  Brilliant, eh?

Why continue with this blog? Because, quite honestly, I enjoy writing it and some people enjoy reading it.  So, some people might not like what they read here.  Some people might believe that I'm being selective or dishonest.  I know I'm not and to them I say, with the greatest of respect, "screw you; go and read something else if you don't like what you see here." I'm not forcing you to waste your time here.  I'll continue to burble on for as long as I want to and for as long as people stop by and read the stuff I write.  And, despite what other people might think, for once that's enough of a reason for me.

*By the way, many years later, I finally bought that three piece suit and I wore it.  Lots of people really liked it.  And I looked good... ;)