An Invitation Without Remorse

You’re under no obligation to read this essay, or any other essay I have written in the past, or I may write in the future. Each essay is at once my own, and yours; it’s how I process, express myself and how I connect with the world around me. It’s my art, my heart, the act of baring my soul, and it belongs to no one but myself, until you connect with some part of my experience because it too has been yours.

This is my third official vessel to hold the contents of my mind, heart and soul. Some would call it a blog, though I feel the word is crass for something intended to caress the sacred meanderings of the mind as they drip out through the fingertips one tap at a time, tap-tap-tap. The keyboard and the computer screen, the stalwart confidant of my dreams, ever steady, loyal and as validating as my own heart on the days when nary a dark thought of self-loathing exists.

The first vessel outlined the days of young Motherhood, as a Mormon, closeted lesbian, married to a man, documenting the ups and downs to my days, depression and the demise of a marriage. Raw with vulnerability, the backlash wasn’t clearly seen on the pages that were published, but that’s rarely the case. A family of origin that was unhappy with the discussion of abuse, the outing of family secrets for the benefit of others who may have been in the same situation. And yet, it was this vessel that taught me the value of vulnerability and the power that comes with connecting with readers. Vulnerability breeds community, and community connects humanity.

The second vessel was raw and filled with pain as the blinders had been ripped off and the innocence of youth had been stripped from my tender heart and mind. Standing atop a mountain and wielding my words as a sword I spewed them as loudly as I could for all the world to hear; I had lost everything for doing just that and holding back, there was no holding back now. All of the lessons learned had become mine to share. This vessel taught me that dedication and unabashed declarations of truth reach straight to the hearts of those most in need of light and hope. They were living in darkness, hidden in somber lives of abuse. Reaching thousands of readers and viewers in pages, profiles and groups. This is where the power was found; raw vulnerability spoken with power reached more than holding back.

Here I find myself again, embarking upon a new chapter of life, after heartbreak, fresh trauma, a new chapter with determination to heal, learn and manifest success once more. I find myself holding back, worried of offending or hurting. I find myself deign to check numbers or stats, follow the follower counts….even writing that sentence makes my stomach turn. In truth, the numbers don’t matter, but the people do. The term in the social media world “chase followers” reminds me of the worst cocktail I ever tried. It’s the opposite of who I am: authentic, genuine, what you see is what you get. And after a lifetime of begging for the attention of my parents and my partners, I won’t be begging for your attention. I won’t be begging for you to follow my “blog” or my social media accounts. Why?

This vessel, or blog, like the two before, are here primarily for myself as a way to express my humanity – as flawed as it is. And it’s here to connect with humanity, you. If you’re here and you’re reading, you’re invited to follow along my journey, with all of the ups and downs. Introduce yourself and allow me to share in your successes and failures, as I share mine, or just read along for a few tips about writing or travel or business or life. Or don’t. Because in the end this life really isn’t about anyone other than one person, and the most important thing any of us can do is listen to our own voice. It’s literally all that matters.

Just because I won’t chase you doesn’t mean you’re not welcome. Please feel free to follow using one of the buttons below, and introduce yourself! How does this post resonate with you?

• An Invitation Without Remorse
  Within these essays I bare my heart, mind and soul, as such, they belong to no one but myself until you recognize some part of my experience to be yours as well. Vulnerability breeds community and community connects humanity. – Nikki Jensen
• Words Flow and Dam in the Heart
  When the rate of communication is imbalanced, both parties need to look within and determine what is driving their action or inaction.
This is healthy. This is love. This is mindful intent within a relationship.
• White Lies, Protection or Gaslighting
  The line is so fine it stinks of Pinot Noir. A rich, dark, delicious Pinot Noir one could get drunk off without paying very close attention to. When looking at the three terms in the title of this essay one can see that there are actually lines all over the place. Who draws the line, who gets to decide what constitutes a white lie (which, let’s admit, we’ve all told), a lie told to protect someone we love, and systematic lies told over a period of time that eventually drive a person mad? Ten years ago when I set out …
• The Choice is Vulnerability or Death
  Words, actions and vulnerability are inextricably connected. We can make ourselves vulnerable by our actions and words, and yet, our inaction and lack of words can do the same. 
Ultimately we must acknowledge the constant cost-benefit analysis at play. Choosing vulnerability will always pay in the long-run. The new Hulu movie, ‘Happiest Holidays’ is an excellent example of these ideas.
• Come Out and Come Around
  In order to see the beauty of this existence we call life, we must find the courage to fully come out of the shadows and live a raw, messy, gorgeous life full of errors and grace.- Nikki Jensen
• Parched and Perturbed
  With a booming population increasing in diversity, Utah is a state that has been touted as an ideal location to start a business venture. But with a myriad of laws established over the last 100 years by lawmakers who, for the most part, belonged to the Mormon church, this population is struggling to feel at home. How can it change?