Since I began writing for The Odyssey, people have been immensely supportive. I’ve received a great deal of encouraging feedback on my work.

Many people’s feedback has commented on how “raw” or “real” my writing is. It’s true; I’ve written about the “real” stuff, my vulnerabilities, my personal thoughts and feelings that some may think to be too candid for a public online setting. I’ve written about rape culture, my qualms about today’s dating world, my tattoo with an ex-lover, and I’ve written a letter to a guy I met on vacation who I started to fall for. All of these articles have been emotional and intimate. And this is why I think it’s okay to share this stuff.

Because I’ve found that the “real” stuff is what people relate to most. The dictionary defines art as “the quality, production, expression, or realm, according to aesthetic principles, of what is beautiful, appealing, or of more than ordinary significance.” More than ordinary significance--that’s the part of art that frees the soul, the part that makes us feel understood and not alone. I realized that I am not the only person in this world who has had the experiences that I have. I am not alone in my feelings. I realized that our experiences are meant to be shared. Life experience is what creates our relationships. So, I share my art in order to give people that more than ordinary significance.

I write this way to break barriers on social media. In general, people put their best selves on social media. I don’t blame them. I mostly do the same. We post pictures when our makeup or hair looks the best and we present ourselves the way we want people to perceive us. We wish to appear happy and confident, and as if we don’t experience any hardship. But is this authentic or honest? Portraying ourselves as a real human being who experiences grief and anguish, boredom, stress or depression is not what we think others want to see.

On the contrary, I’ve come to find that it is what people want to see and hear about. People read about other’s problems and obstacles in search of comfort and a sense of community. I once saw this series of photos by Emily Knecht where she took a selfie every time she cried for a period of three years. I have never seen such a profound display of organic, uncensored human emotion. We need more of this. We as humans cry. We endure pain and suffering. This is a huge part of our daily lives, and yet many times we neglect to share it.

Writing about the tough stuff is my attempt at being authentic. As I’ve learned in my Communication courses throughout college, we can never as human beings be truly authentic because we are always performing. However, in my writing, I try to include the parts of the performance that may have been cut. I write about the parts that bring me pain and confusion because I know that maybe someone else needs to hear about it. Someone needs to know that having a tattoo with an ex-boyfriend is not something to be ashamed of. Perhaps someone needs to read that no one has a right to their body and that sex without consent is a crime. Or even that starting to fall in love in just seven days maybe isn’t so crazy.

Tonight I posted a selfie on Instagram of me without makeup or a filter. I decided that me, just the way I am naturally is something worthy of sharing. I want people to read my work and see my social media accounts and think, she is not hiding. My story matters. And I don’t see a need for patching it up and presenting it with a pretty bow because sometimes, most of the time, that’s not how life happens. My writing is me, the bona fide Lindsey. That’s something I’m proud of and something I don’t plan on distorting or covering up in any way.