Risky Business
I have an almost impossible time writing in public or writing things that others will read. I have literally sat in class with a have-to-write-it-in-the-room assignment and almost burst into tears. Ok, so I did have a few that leaked out.
This all started in my childhood (doesn't it with everyone?) My Mother taught at the same school I attended and would have a conniption fit if anything personal seeped into my English assignments. We had a lot of secrets at our house and there was a strict code of silence that was not to be breeched for any reason. A sentence like "Daddy works a lot." was enough to be in the doghouse for at least a week. I would be told I had humiliated her in front of her coworkers.
So why am I doing something this risky? Or is that why? Truth is, no matter how much I mask, change names and particulars, don't tell anyone about this thing, tell myself there are gazillions of blogs, what are the odds of someone I know running across mine and recognizing it as me, it could happen. They eventually found Joe Klein. And how difficult would it really be? How many southern women know who Joe Klein is, commonly use the word 'gazillion', and are overly fond of the words like 'semi', 'literally', and 'overly'? So, what do I do about it?
I could have never started this -- which would have been a continuation of the silence that has been crushing me since childhood. I could have continued writing my life on scraps of paper and immediatly destroying them -- also a continuation and allows no perspective. I could go through everything before I post and make it unrecognizable -- but then I would be unrecognizable to me, it would defeat the purpose of this thing, and it would be a continuation. So, it's either this or back to weekly therapy and after a couple of decades my insurance provider has lost patience with that method.
So I take the risk. Hope Brick and the kids don't look too close. Hope if anyone I know connects my dots they're kind enough to keep it to themselves and everytime I see one of those Blogger destroys their life and career stories, put my hands over my eyes and holler 'I'm not listening...I'm not listening!'
posted by Maggie @ 1:53 PM
1 comments
1 Comments:
I read your blog. I don't even remember how I stumbled upon it, but I found it interesting, bookmarked it, and return frequently. It's kind of weird how you can have a glimpse into somone else's life, and at the same time have no clue who they are. (Don't make the fact that you have some dedicated readers change anything that you would write, though.) There is something about the fact that one's blog is more or less available to all the world that makes it exciting, almost risky, to write there. At least, that is how it is for me. And any time I delve into great detail, it starts to worry me a little. Although thinking about it, my own little corner of the web probably presents a very one-dimensional picture of me. If it wasn't mine, I might not even be too impressed with it. And I highly doubt I would connect it with myself. Anyhow, the point of this comment is that I totally understand what you mean in your post.
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