It has been about a year since I posted to my blog. Ironically, my last post was about writer’s block. I promised myself that I would post more, but the words just didn’t follow.

The words used to always flow out of me, but now I feel like I am constantly looking for something that either makes me feel passionate enough to write about or something that I feel I deserve to write about.

And, while this past year certainly has had its lows, I realized it is because I am happy. I am so content with my life right now. Through the stress and through the tears, I know at the end of the day I am the happiest I have ever been.

The only problem with this, however, is that I do not know how to separate the happiness I am feeling in my personal life from the anger I am feeling towards the state of our country. Or rather, the guilt that I feel for even being happy in the first place.

I never wanted my blog to have a political focus, or any focus for that matter, because I wanted it to be whatever was on my mind that day. I still do want that for myself. But at a certain point, it felt wrong for me to gush about my job or my boyfriend or my new apartment without first addressing the world around me.

So, that is my intention now, before I jump into the more frivolous things in life.

The events that occurred in DC this past week affected me deeply, hit uncomfortably close to home, and truly made me reflect on what it means to use my voice. I have seen others speak up over the course of the last week and watched the imminent debate in the comments unfold in real time. My first instinct is to jump in and take a stance, but I always refrain. It is, without a doubt, one of my least favorite qualities about myself.

Politics have seeped into just about everything. There is enough to be mad about, it is hard not to layer that anger onto more and more aspects of your life. And my inclination is to say that we all have every right to do so. After all, you never know how you may get through to someone.

And then I remember that if we politicize everything, we have nothing left to ourselves. Even my rainy, lazy Sundays in bed will have a twinge of acrimony. That is when the guilt comes creeping back and I get frustrated all over again because there can always be something to be unhappy about if you let it in.

Writing has always meant so much to me as an outlet, as a vehicle to say how I feel, and as a way to connect with those that I may not typically otherwise. It has always been difficult to bite the bullet and publish something. Now I feel even more vulnerable than before because my love for writing deeply clashes with my need to please.

I want to be outspoken at the same time that I want you to like me, and I think it is about time that I choose between the two. And I have finally decided to say that it is more important to my core values that I say what I want to say instead of saying what people want to hear.

It isn’t so much that I don’t have anything to lose as much as I have everything to gain. I have already been called all of the bad names. I have already been told to shut up. I have already woken up feeling bitter enough to last me the whole day.

At this point, speaking my mind is only going to help me sort through my frustrations, sort out the guilt, and find the good. And I hope you all figure out the best way to find the good, too.