Some days, I don’t quite know who I am. I’m having one of those days today.

Last night, I put up a post saying that I had nothing to say. While it is in fact true that those were all posts that I enjoyed reading, and I would love for anyone who’s out there reading to enjoy as well, I decided that it just wasn’t really me.

In those moments when I’m not sure who I am, I sometimes try to be other people. That doesn’t work for me, and one faithful reader and dear friend took me to task for it. And he was right.

The thing is, I’ve been going through some things lately that for one reason or another are inappropriate to post in this forum. (It’s true, readers. I don’t share everything. Some things are just too personal…that’s what good old pen-and-paper journals are for.) But then I get stuck. I’m at a loss. I have nothing to say here, and I hate that…for, as I’ve mentioned before, it’s the fact that people are reading, the fact that people come here and come back, that makes me want to keep going.

And so I’m afraid…I’m afraid that if I post nothing, the people won’t come back. Call it a funk, call it bloggers block, call it whatever.

I deal in words…in my private life, in my (ahem) professional life, in my hopeful career(s). It’s scary to be a writer without any words. Because if I don’t have any words, I don’t have any idea who I am.

Today is one month until my birthday. I look at it with a mixture of anticipation and dread. On the one hand, I’m ready to leave my twenties behind. On the other, what lies ahead for me? Will I find that great job? Get published? Fall in love and have babies? Will I be the best me that I can possibly be?

I need to pick up, take charge, stop being driven by insecurity and fully embrace ME.

I am: twenty-nine and counting.

I am a teacher. A writer. A journalist. A daughter. A sister. A friend.

I am highly emotional. Empathetic. Insecure. Underemployed. Shy. Fiercely loyal to those I care about.

I hate to lose. I hate hurting people. I can’t stand having people angry with me.

I am terrified of bees.

I hope for the best, but often expect the worst.

I’ve had my heart broken twice, and my spirit broken once.

I love to dance. I can’t sing, but I wish I could.

I can’t wait to have a classroom of my own.

I am emotionally high maintenance.

I still believe in true love.