I still had not decided if I would speak. What would I say about the man who gave me up? About the relationship we didn’t have?
My sister handed me a legal pad, and sitting next to each other on the couch, we began writing our speeches at 11pm. In twelve hours, we were to be standing on a stage, fully rested and ready to share.
I was a little panicked, my procrastination being the main culprit. When it was over, all these people I didn’t know applauded my speech; industry professionals, writers, musicians, advertising executives.
He didn’t applaud though, not once. He had never read my words. He had never heard me sing. He had never watched me dance. After that first time, it must have just gotten easier for him to keep letting me go.
But I don’t know how; I was his first-born. I saw the pictures, the love. The struggle must have been real.
I had tried my whole life to get him to see me and the irony of these people praising me was, well, it was something. I was asked to type up my scribble to send to his friends, and so began the first day of Free The Truth.
Today, exactly two months later, I have 160 followers. It really blows my mind. To have people I don’t know, invest their time in me, when people closest to me never could and still won’t. It means more than you could possibly know. Thank you!
If you are just starting to follow, please check out the words from that night, and some of the others from my first week here:
I think these are all pretty worthy of reading, you won’t regret giving them a click. Nor will you regret re-reading Ironic Inspiration; especially with fresh eyes towards its origin.
I can’t express my gratitude in a way that would do my heart justice. You guys mean the world to me!