a new start to an old something

I've been writing for years. Not as a writer, and certainly nothing good, but I've been writing. From diary days to zine cliques, I've tried to use writing as a way to feel explained. Maybe I was trying to explain myself, to me, or perhaps I really did just want to explain my 8th grade woes to all the other Hanson loving tweens in the AOL zine world. Welp, ain't none of it worked. I'm 22, entering the "twenty something" stage of life, nearing a quarterlife crisis, and damn determined to try this writing thing once again. This time, I'm trying something new.

Honesty.

I've never been honest about anything in my writing. I think even in my diary I would exaggerate, or write from the heart and messed up mind of the girl I wanted to be. I tried to write about a distorted body image because I wanted to have one. I wrote about it so much that I convinced myself it was true. That's the scary part about lying to yourself and others - you keep telling yourself something, over and over again, and pretty damn soon you believe it. But I'm really not here to delve into my 8th grade bout with anorexia. Merely anecdotal. If I'm going to try honesty, I don't even know what anecdotal means. One of those words you think you know, because it just comes to mind in the middle of a sentence as the next word you should use, but in reality that could be the completely wrong word. Whatever.

My point is: I'm 22. I'm a brilliantly, beautiful mess. Part of me thinks I'm right where I'm supposed to be, but my god, if that's true, this place sucks. But it doesn't suck. I'm happy. I'm 22, right? Recent graduate. Living in a big city with my best friends. I drink and party and have sex. I watch trashy tv, I try to pick up a reading habit (not going very well). I have a ton of friends. (Some) guys like me. I make minimal amounts of money at a job that I claim to love which provides me with so much free time that I decided to write a blog. Hmm.

Honesty, and truth. That's what I want in this blog. I'm not here to talk my life up or make people think I'm cool or really even to find people to read my blog. I'm here because I realized the other day, when it comes to my feelings, and men, and love, and sex, and hook ups and drunk dials and everything else that comes along with being a desperate twenty something girl in a big city - no one knows everything, no one.. not even my best best best friend knows everything about me. Of course I tell my roommates all the raunchy details in the ever so popular "morning after" recaps. And I have my token emo friends who I can get a good cry in with when I'm feeling like my life is well whatever I may be feeling. But if I can't be honest with my best friends, my roommates or my family, it's time I at least come clean to myself. And naturally, in this day and age, that means by spilling my guts on the internet - to millions of complete strangers who simply know that I'm a girl, somewhere.