. On Self Doubt .

On a piece of paper, tucked in between notepads, near my desk - scrawled hurriedly across yellow lines - 

And even if you have to crawl.

Sometimes people tell me I have pretty handwriting, but this is anything but. These letters, pushed together look so much like my brother's handwriting that when I saw them the other day, I actually did a double take.

Did I actually write that?

Yes. I did. 

It was a passing thought written in a margin and just like always - if it doesn't come out at that second, then the words will clang around in my head. 

And I write to feel the quiet. 

...

"I feel like I'm a fraud," I whispered to Craig one night not long ago. 

His arm, heavy with assurance and faith, pulled me closer. 

Sometimes, my confidence slips down through my toes and before I reach down to gather the remnants, 

I have to take a second. 

...

I need a pep talk, I called out to my friends last night. 
You can do this. 
Baby steps are still steps. 
Tell me something good.

And they showed up for me. And sometimes, their words don't even matter. Sometimes, all that matters is the gentle nudge. A hand reached out, a hand that answers. 

A second to catch my breath.

....

When Craig and I first started dating, I told him that sometimes I feel like a banging piano during a refrain. It was the first letter I'd ever mailed him, and I wanted him to know - 

Sometimes I have bad days. 
...

And I just think that even on the bad days. 

Even on the days that I doubt every single thing about myself. 
Even when I feel like I'm not a good writer or teacher.
A good mom.
A good girlfriend.
A good daughter.

Even when I think that I cannot do one thing right - 
Even when I don't feel brave or courageous or progressive - 
Even when my breaths are shallow and the tears are plenty -
Even when I go to bed early just to stay awake all night - 

Even if I have to crawl -

an exhale is coming. 

​xoxo, B.