One of the most difficult things about writing a blog is being transparent.
By virtue of writing a blog, my life is on the internet. Stating the obvious, I know. But seriously, it’s weird and self absorbed. I’m not that important that people actually care what’s going on in my life, yet I write anyway, pretending they do. Ok, according to Google Analytics there are some people who do – the rest are probably my mom and ex-boyfriends.
The part I struggle with the most is exactly how much of my life to put online. Ironically, I share enough on my social media accounts for someone to find out my full name, place of employment, and daily caloric intake. If someone cared enough, they could probably follow me around Boston – but shouldn’t because I carry pepper spray and have a super loud voice while screaming for help and that’s just weird.
When it comes to my blog though, I’m more reserved. I have friends who blog about depression and eating disorders and medical issues and I’m over here writing about choking on hard boiled eggs. This is my space for travel adventures and beer tours and funny stories about my life in Boston. You know, fluff.
While fluff is funny and self deprecation is endearing, it lacks personality. My actual self – my insecurities, my dating life, the fact that I will likely die with law school debt – isn’t on here. Possibly because my ex-husband who loved to censor my writing online. Months after our divorce I received a cease and desist letter from him for referring to him as a douchebag on a quasi-anonymous dating blog I wrote. Not the smartest moment but also not legally actionable since:
- Truth is a defense to defamation, and
- I never used his name.
I’ve been so worried about putting too much information about myself online that I never considered that the person I was showing was just a shell. When asked what I write about, I point to stories that show pieces of my life instead of a person with feelings who embraces you when you enter the site. And I don’t like that.
I don’t like that my personal brand, for lack of a better term, is merely a series of disjointed events pulled together by an affinity for carbohydrates peppered with complaints about the weather and my old career. So I’m changing that, to the best of my ability, while still maintaining a sense of propriety and protecting the privacy of others.
Divorce made me closed off from others. Ironic because I’m a chronic oversharer, but it made me vulnerable and afraid of these things called feelings. It’s been a while since I’ve really shared myself with people. My job as lawyer left me miserable and embarrassed about having stagnated my career for dreams of love and happiness that turned into a cold pile of crap. So I didn’t write about my feelings or deep thoughts or aspirations for the future. Not anymore.
The past year has been an awakening for me. A change of career and perspective has made me happy and motivated. I’ve even turned into a hugger. Ok, Startup Institute is really to blame for that – those team-building, feeling-cultivating, happiness-making, group-hugging people. They totally killed my tough guy street cred.
And so this is where I find myself now. In this awkward place on my blog, trying to figure out what to say to people who probably haven’t even read this far. If you have, thanks for letting me get that out. Come on, bring it in for a hug.