As M. Scott Peck says:
“The truth is that our finest moments are most likely to occur when we are feeling deeply uncomfortable, unhappy, or unfulfilled. For it is only in such moments, propelled by our discomfort, that we are likely to step out of our ruts and start searching for different ways or truer answers.”
I fear offending people. The hesitation I feel is like a pitcher winding up for the pitch but pulling out and balking. The result? An unintentional walk. I hate this about myself—hate how it feels, hate walking on eggshells, and hate how I reprimand myself afterward. It’s this no-win cycle I fall into, creating an underlying animosity I desperately want to let go of.
A couple of weeks ago, I wrote a “Fuck Trump” post. In that moment, my usual goal of not being offensive took a backseat to the raw, vulnerable state I was in. How many times since then have I thought about deleting it? Too many to count. Yet, I haven’t taken it down because I want to support myself—even in my rawer, darker moments. That messy expulsion was cathartic, a release of pressure that had been building for far too long. It wasn’t about Trump. It wasn’t even about you, the reader. It was about me.
For months, I’d been asking myself to tread carefully, to phrase things “just right,” and it had created this mounting insecurity inside me—a growing discomfort with both myself and the world around me. Like a dam with a crack, the pressure had built until it finally blew. That post was the result. It wasn’t pretty, but it was honest.
Now that the dust is settling, I’m realizing the real problem isn’t the vulnerability itself but how I’ve handled it—by pushing people away. My instinct when I feel exposed is to burrow under the comfiest comforter I can find and disappear. But I’m learning that connection is the antidote to vulnerability, not avoidance. It’s counterintuitive, but I know I can’t keep retreating. I need to lean into relationships, into community, even when it feels uncomfortable.
The process isn’t perfect, but it’s progress. I’m slowly learning to give myself grace, even in my darker moments. Because authenticity matters. Because connection matters. And because, in the end, I matter too.
Love, Jaclynn
PS: I’m grateful for another 70-degree day, and soaking in the sun on the back patio. I’m grateful for the time spent with Evelyn and Dave putting together a Lego Christmas tree. I’m grateful for the trip to the Roberta Hardware store to pick up a fly swatter, wood glue, and twine.
Going On 40 