word vomit

So what’s this all about any way? Naked on paper. I don’t get it.

Hey people, naked on paper is a place where you’re welcome to share a story. Maybe yours, or one you know how to tell really well.

It’s about being vulnerable and safe to be raw. To be real.

I know I’ve eluded to this in some fashion and others have come to their own conclusion that I’m just “finding myself” and I hate that term. I know exactly who I am and where I am in life. Finding oneself implies that I have no idea where I’m headed or what to do in my life.

Believe me when I say I’m well on the road to living the life I was meant to. Interpret that at your will. I’m not here to draw lines in the sand for you.

I’m a Christian. And I’m scared to tell you about it, write about it or talk about it any way because I’ve been made to feel incredibly stupid for believing in God. I have kept faith, in many forms, out of my writing and websites on purpose because I’m afraid of the conclusions that will be drawn on my behalf.

I swear and get angry and do all kinds of things that stereo typical “religious” people are supposed to be “above” doing. Well I’m not above it and I’d like to take issue with you for perpetuating such a ridiculous thought. I poop, too, people. I have a black heart, I’m unforgiving and surprise of all surprises, I am not perfect. I’m human.

Being vulnerable for me is easy when I have a keyboard at my finger tips. I can write my feelings out and be done with it. I can explain, in words and phrases and pictures through letters, how I’m feeling. How I work. What I think. But I stumble to make a coherent thought come out of my mouth when you’re asking me to have a conversation face to face.

It’s not easy for me to be open, to let people in. But for some reason I can let you in. And thats what this is. This site. This idea.

This thing I’m doing. Taking photos with paint all over my body. Being vulnerable in one of the worst ways, in my book, taking off the cloak of “should” and “will get to tomorrow” and showing you the real deal. Maybe that’s my shoulder. Or my neck. Maybe it even looks like I’m completely naked and who cares.

I’m not here to fight your demons for you. To win your battle with whatever it is your insecure about. Whatever it is that keeps you from letting people in. Or keeping people out. Whatever your moment is that you try desperately to hide but can’t seem to shut up about. Thats your moment, and you’re welcome to it.

This is mine.

(Written by: Jodimichelle)