Censorship (Do I Cower at Having Readers?)

So I think someone might be reading this. From the minute I posted my blog link on Facebook, it has been an amazing roller coaster in my head. Without thinking much, I decided to have the Guts to share with others. The initial responses were all so supportive. Then I had some people talk about how personally touched they were by it and I panicked. It is funny how I can share in a random text box, but it feels much more scary to actually talk about my struggles in person. For an hour or so, I wondered if I should re-read everything, edit it to death and then apologize to you.
It felt a bit like my Senior Art Show, where I posted personal struggles I had with men in my artist statement, only to go back and put up a more generic statement a few hours later. The funny thing was that the few people who read the original were so moved and able to connect and disappointed by the change.

For my Art Show, I starting making what I thought was a beautiful pregnant woman, only to be told by my mentor that the woman was not pregnant, but holding onto something. The final piece is a woman holding a hollow masculine mask.  In my show as today, when I step out of a "norm" or say something weighty, I feel a bit sick. Instinct dictates that people might not like me, they might be offended and in the end, I will be alone, like Asher Lev. In the book, My Name is Asher Lev, Asher starts with this.

My name is Asher Lev, the Asher Lev, about whom you have read in newspapers and magazines, about whom you talk so much at your dinner affairs and cocktail parties, the notorious and legendary Lev of the Brooklyn Crucifixion.

I am an observant Jew. Yes, of course, observant Jews do not paint crucifixions. As a matter of fact, observant Jews do not paint at all--in the way that I am painting. So strong words are being written and spoken about me, myths are being generated: I am a traitor, an apostate, a self-hater, an inflicter of shame upon my family, my friends, my people; also, I am a mocker of ideas sacred to Christians, a blasphemous manipulator of modes and forms revered by Gentiles for two thousand years.

I took a risk in the Spring when I shared a story about a childhood Spanking and sweat bullets as I read it, thinking people would treat me like I had leprosy. The amazing thing was that every one of my classmates wrote comments back saying that they had had similar experiences. I was shocked at the connection and thankful that I took the risk.

Should I go into hiding and pretend I did not write a blog and retract my invitation to share or should I risk exposure in hopes of having a deeper relationship with myself, with you and with God. My real desire is to dialogue with anyone who wants to talk, either about what I have written or what is on your mind. So I will do my best to speak truthfully, so that real work can be done towards enlightenment, change and deeper engagement about things that matters.