I have always been someone who others could come to with problems. Even as an adolescent, my friends called me “Mom” although I was often the smallest of the group. They also said that when I became an adult, I’d be married with 10 kids and president of the PTA.
I have one child. I was married for all of 3 years. I’m an educator for 16 years now. I’ve NEVER been a part of a PTA.
The point of this post is the fact that I find reading other’s posts do more for me than anything. I find myself crying about the happy and sad posts. There are posts I “like” and there are those I “like” and “comment.” There are times when I feel I’m here more for others than I am for myself.
I love the field of psychology. I would often bring my “psychologist” hat inside the classroom with me when dealing with students. The thing is…they tell me their stories and I cry. My heart breaks. Or they tell me their stories and I cry and laugh. My heart leaps with joy. Either way, I’m filled up.
There’s a part of me that wishes I could study psychology. I wish I could be a child psychologist. But I can’t keep my own emotions in check. I’d be crying more than my patients. I used to pray and ask God why did I always cry about things. Why did I feel so deeply about the good and the bad? He hasn’t officially answered me yet. I don’t focus on that so much anymore. It’s just who I am.
So yeah, I’m still here blogging as if I have something important to say, but I honestly believe that although me being able to blog is more like journaling for me and allows me to get it out and leave it here, my main purpose for being here is not for me.
And I’m totally fine with that.
justanilltowngirl 