Practice reduces imperfection

I don't expect to be perfect, hence the title of this post.

A few weeks ago I announced my full presence. I've shared my attempt to live aloud and it was met with a meager amount of praise. I've tried to speak my mind both vocally and written(ly?).

The results are in. It's working.

I wrote a story about my childhood that I'd always been nervous to share.
Today I reviewed a product and was brutally honest that it wasn't the greatest thing I ever received.

Sometimes, it's not always about deception. Silence is not deception, per se. Neither is it honesty. It's that place of imperfection that exists wherever we dare not.

But today, I dared. The other day, I dared. I dare myself to speak up with my face, my name, and my soul attached. I dared to live authentically.

I'm breathing in the oxygen of truth.
My lungs are full.