Voice, Validation and Doubts

There are times when I see something that will keep me going, photographs that move me or a book that reminds me why I write. Like Dina Goldstein's "Fallen Princess" series or Gregory Maquire's Wicked, they stand as something to strive toward. Not so much a goal but to speak my own mind with clarity and share my thoughts with the same eloquence.
We forget in the mass of information, as we exist in herds and that we are a Google search from finding like minds one small truth. Despite what Chuck P. drives home in Fight Club, we are unique.
I remember having dinner with a photographer and his girlfriend and saying how I'd like to do a wedding shoot in a grocery store at 3am. Of course he laughed and asked why. I responded with why not. In retrospect, I was on to something and had not found the reason behind my vision: after the drama of the wedding comes the mundane world. The illusion is brought to the foreground instead of hidden behind a poofy dress and expensive cake.
I have long doubted my own voice. It's hard to write here in such a public place. I have thousands of photographs sleeping on my harddrive, five books that I've not touched since their first draft. I doubt the validity of my own point of view.
I wonder how many other poly people are sitting on plays, movies, music and art because of the same doubts.
The world needs your voice. Yours is a valid viewpoint and, for the love of all things with a cord, how can we achieve normalization without bringing our images to light? Maquire hints at a triad in Wicked and I've heard rumors of Adam Sandler in a movie about a traid. Then there's the awesome film "Bandits" that shows you the evolution of a triad that was so similar to what our group has gone through (minus the bank robbery bit) that we're going to watch it again and this time pause to discuss. For me, I was sitting there thinking that she was speaking my heart and mind things I couldn't say. Polyamory and polygamy get mixed up in the media. Maybe we should set the record to rights.
B told me something one day while we were on our way to garage sale in a warehouse. "Your photography made me see details that I hadn't noticed before. I would look for faces but now I look for odd shapes, things out of place." J once told me I'm his favorite writer. We have no clue who we will touch or how until we step up and just... be ourselves.
When I was a sign language interpreter, there was a coworker who would sign the concept of laying everything out on the table by touching her chest with both hands then moving them out, palm up and spreading them out like she was pulling out her heart and leaving it there for all to see. It moved me then and still moves me today. It's the sign I do when I'm talking and can't quite get it out. I do that and it's like something unlocks and I can speak again.
She influenced me without knowing it, helped me to share myself with others. Granted, I'm still working on that but I am grateful for the help. We never know who's looking, listening or reading and we've no idea what we can inspire in others until we take the time, make the effort and move through the doubts to show another the world through our eyes.