From Me to We

I didn’t start this blog to point out the failings in the everyday workings of the world. I didn’t start it hoping for others to even read it. I didn’t start it trying to change anything but how I feel about my own situation.

I just wanted to write about my struggles, physical, emotional, and social, with infertility. I hoped to better understand why I feel the way I feel, and so improve my quality of life. I wanted to get out some of this garbage I carry around in my head every day, and if someone wanted to encourage me, why, that’d be a bonus. I wanted a real safe place, where I can say anything that comes into my head and follow it through to its logical conclusion (I know my logic is seldom conventional, but it works for me.).

I thought that there couldn’t possibly be a place where I could talk about what hurts and why and not be vituperated. I thought if I dared to presume that people could just be nice to each other I would only be disappointed. I know, I know, that’s my innate negativity talking. I managed in food service for years. It’s hard to watch so many people be jerks every day and not get a little cynical.

BUT. I’m proud to be able to freely admit when I’m wrong. I was wrong. There are many people who are suffering like I am and still capable of offering support. The world is not full of meanness and spite. I am not alone. I have found a safe place.

And that is why all my initial intentions have been thrown out the window. There are good people who have been through bad things, and nobody seems to care, and if I can raise my voice about it, I feel obligated to do so. Because for every one person who says, ‘hey, look at me, it hurts when you do that,’ there are dozens who suffer in silence.

I don’t want to be silent anymore. I want to be someone brave enough to say, ‘hey, you! Stop that! It’s not nice!’

I always laughed at the saying ‘one person can make a difference.’ I was wrong about that, too. If one person makes a difference to one person, then they are two. One person can make all the difference, but I am glad I don’t have to be that first person.

I do feel better since I’ve been writing, but I felt even better when more people started reading. And I feel better still knowing that what I or someone like-minded can say could help at least one person stop and really think about what they’re doing, before it’s too late. More would be better, but one’s a start, right?