I used to blush. A lot. Like my face would turn purple and people would ask if I was ok.

It was embarrassing. The blushing was embarrassing, I mean. I couldn’t stand that my body would overreact and turn red all over, simply because a bit of attention was on me.

And it could be something as simple as the teacher calling on my name. Or the class singing happy birthday to me. Or maybe I sneezed. Who knows. I hated it.

True Confession: I used to hope my red hair would hide my red face. It didn’t.

I didn’t know it, but my blushing was probably the result of my social anxiety disorder. I couldn’t do much in the company of others without feeling uncomfortable. I couldn’t sign my name. I couldn’t talk on the phone. I couldn’t speak up for myself or make friends or simply be in public without feeling anxious.

I was constantly exhausted. I would sweat. I had indigestion. I was miserable.

With treatment, therapy, and a whole lot of love coming my way, I found healing. Especially the medication. For the first time I felt like I was myself again. I went off to college and made friends. I was outgoing. I could speak up in class and began to enjoy public speaking.

But every so often, the blushing would come back on and I felt like I could fall through the floor.

I’ve felt like falling through the metaphorical floor of the internet a few times over the past year or two.

I feel like such a tiny fish in a huge pond – and I have made mistakes. I let my old website expire – something I didn’t mention to anyone because I was mortified that I let it happen. Someone in Asia bought it before I realized my mistake. I cried. I blushed in my chair in my office all alone, horrified that I had done something so amateur.

I stopped writing, because I didn’t think I was valuable. I thought my words were silly and stupid. I didn’t want anyone watching me write over my shoulder, like when I used to sign checks in public, I was certain folks were scrutinizing every word. So I stopped all together.

I pulled myself away from others. From my writing community. From social media. I put on a mask to hide my pain, because I thought if they saw who I believed I was (a fake, a phony, a screw up) I would be rejected.

I was alone and I believed the worst about myself.

But you know what? God invited me to reach out and stop isolating myself. He helped me see the safe people in my life and encouraged me to ask them for help. I was terrified to reach out for help. To say I failed. Again.

But I did. And something amazing happened.

No one made fun of me. No one asked me how I could do such a thing.

Instead I was met with empathy, some practical advice, and encouragement to keep going.

I’m still feeling the blood draining from my face. I am still finding the courage to put myself out there again. I am still scared.

But like I always told my son, being brave is being scared but doing it anyways.

So here I am. Telling you I am back. I am putting myself out there in the social world of the internet. Not because I have something to prove, not even because I have fixed all of the problems (don’t look too hard, but they are there), but because God is inviting me to live with the truth that I matter. My words matter.

And I’m here to tell you that you matter, too. Maybe your face doesn’t betray you when you feel awkward or out of place. Maybe it isn’t obvious when you are insecure or afraid. Maybe you have been hiding and pretending all is ok when inside you feel it must be falling apart.

Whatever your circumstance, feelings, or pain, you have a voice and we need you to keep showing up.

We need your unique perspective, beauty, and joy in this world. We need your laughter and tears. We need your stories and insights. We need your encouragement. We need you.

You are not a mistake. You matter.