Today’s post is a work of fiction. But it’s one I’m sure people can relate to. If it speaks to you, leave a comment.
As always, this is my original work. You can reblog or share but don’t steal. THANKS!
Tanya took a deep breath and hit the submit button with a mixture of relief and excitement. This one could be different. This post could be the one that drew attention to the site, the one people saw. Sure, it was scary, opening up about something so personal right on a public platform. But if it brought people to her page, opened their eyes to her battle, wasn’t that the point?
She opened up a new page, clicked around on social media for a minute. Then she clicked right back to the blog, refreshing the page. No new likes, no new views. Of course, it had only been one minute. She needed to give it time to breath. Copying the link, she shared it on social media.
On a dramatic exhale, she closes all the windows and forces herself to stand up and walk away from the desk. Forces herself to pour a fresh cup of coffee, even while her brain is imagining people reading the post. Forces herself to grab the copy of the book she’s reading, even as she’s thinking about a young woman just like she was when she was forced to make that decision connecting with her story.
She opens the paperback, intending to read it. She reads one sentence before closing the book again and reaching for her cell phone. It’s been a few minutes, she’ll just check again.
There’s a comment. Just one comment.
She closes her phone again, tears welling up in her eyes. That’s the moment when she remembers that not everyone is supportive. Not every comment is positive. Not every view is a good thing.
She wipes at the unshed tears and picks up her book again. She will not take down the post, but she will also not check again today. It was time to tell this story.No regrets.
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