I have been hiding.

My name is Judith. At least it has been for the last fourteen years. Before that, I was called something else. Looking back, I was probably someone else. But that doesn’t matter now. Well, at least not right now. Maybe it might make a good story someday.

Last night it occurred to me that I have spent most of my life hiding my thoughts. Whether it was scribbling profusely into a journal that no one would ever see or trying to blend into a large classroom so as not to be called on by a teacher, I have spent a large portion of my time trying to be invisible. Well, there was a time when I didn’t have to try. That again, might be a story for another time.

I want to change.

Considering the enormously large amount of time I have spent writing over the course of my life, mostly for class, it seems strange to me that I am nervous about starting this blog. I’ve written throughout my time in high school, college, law school, and now in graduate school. I’ve written fiction and non-fiction. I’ve produced utter nonsense and somewhat coherent thoughts. Yet, the idea of sharing first-hand experiences scares me to no end.

However, I was advised that I should do something (at least once a week, according to my source) that makes me uncomfortable in order to become better. To grow as a person. To change.

I would like to understand.

Subjectively speaking, a lot has happened in my life over the past decade or so. Some of it good. Some of it inexplicable. But for all of it, I am grateful.

I’m not seeking explanations. I refuse to ask the questions, “why?” or “why me?” Frankly, the answers to those questions seem irrelevant at best and useless at worst.

However, I would like to understand how those events changed who I am. I want to tell stories. I would like to know how I came to see the world in a certain way. I want to know what that viewpoint is. I would like to explore the journey and try to understand what it means for the future. I want to stop hiding.