Sharing

I can see how sharing your story can become addicting.

In fact as we talk about ourselves dopamine is released in the brain. So it's a scientifically proven that our brains enjoy this kind of interaction (hello blogging high!) but when you share your most real self, I can only imagine that affect is compounded.

Every time I get a text or an e-mail or a hear of a friend of a friend who just wants a friend, I feel that same urge to hear their story and share mine. I want to share pieces of mine with pieces of theirs and block out the rest of the world as we talk through what is real.

As more people step out in the light this story becomes easier to share and easier to live.

This is what compels me to write. I often feel that my story is less intense (and therefore less important) than so many others I hear. But I want every story to have a voice. In the beginning I longed for someone to treat "this little problem" as a real problem. I wanted someone to validate my heartache. Someone to understand just how big this was to me.

So I share my story in my little corner of the internet and know that it heals me to do so. Nobody's story will ring as true to me as my own.