Writing about yourself is never easy. Opening a door & letting some one else privy to your secrets, your darkest desires, your hidden fears. Revealing your hidden face, letting a stranger peer through the outer façade you have built around yourself. Opening up.
Every other day a celebrity comes up with a memoir or an autobiography often with a boasting title that paints them as heroes & tragedy queens. Maybe such openness comes with being in the public eye so much. After being on public display for years, taking the final step to complete transparency is not so hard.
And how does one know what to write. What could be so interesting in my relatively “un-happening” life that another would be so interested to read about?
Ann perhaps the most philosophical reservation of all—do I know myself well enough to describe my inner world to another person, one who will perhaps judge me & form an opinion of my mistakes and my choices.
It’s not easy.
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