There was a time when blog posts were random, journal-like sharings we shared with strangers on the Internet. Some of us used our real names, some hid behind a "pen-name." It was freeing.

I had always loved writing, but as I went through school and then started working, I would get stuck on the idea of "perfection" if it was shared. I still kept a private journal. Writing was a great release, even if it wasn't connecting with others.

When MySpace and Facebook entered the scene, I again found the freedom to share —after all, I was connecting with people I KNEW. These were friends, family, classmates... (Ignorance is not as blissful as naivete.)

Like so many others, I shared my worldviews along with my dinner pics. And suddenly, everything I said or thought was suddenly up for debate. Not everybody felt the way I did: I felt unsafe. My nervous system shifted and tried to help-- which meant I wanted to fight, flee, or fawn.

• People I hadn't talked to in decades dropped into my DMs to shame me for my political stance, belittling me with remarks like: "I thought you were smarter than this." I fled from the conversation.

• Sticking up for something I thought shouldn't be controversial, like Black Lives Matter, meant I was acting like I was better than everyone else. Little did I know that our entire political climate would be shifting to erase any diversity from our conversations and history books. I fought, feeling like I was having conversations with a wall...and I would assume sticking to my guns also meant the people I was fighting with felt the same way.

And then, I was out in the workplace... I no longer had a space that was just mine. Social media became representative of "Me", the professional. So, maybe I don't talk about X. I'm here to hold space for yoga. To write about your neighborhood. To plan your trip.

And somewhere along the way, I kept my real feelings about almost everything close. So much so that I started to feel like I couldn't be myself. And sometimes, I was disconnected from myself, only a bundle of nerves reacting to almost everything with frantic anxiety.

Thankfully, I found the right combination of therapy and friendship that is helping me through. And it is all part of the process. Things are constantly changing, and I am continuing to work through these changes. And I am actively curious about becoming a less fearful woman overall.

What others think of me is really none of my business. If they want to attack me-- is it REALLY an attack? I need to bring my curiosity to those tough conversations.

And, as I shift into this new season of my life (which was what this blog post was going to be about initially), I need to see my strength and my vulnerability for what they are: Parts of the whole. Of me.