Viral Laundry
Recently a newer friend marvelled at my ability to put all my thoughts and feelings out on the web for all to see. To her, 'blogging', especially a personal blog, meant airing one's dirty laundry and running the risk of that laundry going viral. I explained to her that I've been doing this awhile and, as such, I'm used to it. I further explained that I write about my personal experience with universal topics. Sure, it might be MY reactions, MY thoughts, MY feelings, but I'm no different than anyone. I rationalize that MY words just might help someone cope and know that they aren't alone.
I accept that it may largely be a rationalization, but I do occasionally hear from readers who tell me that my latest blog said exactly what they were thinking. This in turn makes me feel less alone. In that way, it's a win-win. I gain understanding and so do my readers. I'll never call my blog a 'public service' (ok, maybe there was that one time), but I think it does serve a purpose every so often.
Over the years, writing has become my therapy and, as such, a key to my sanity. Very often when I write about something, it helps me 'get over it' and close a proverbial chapter. Things tend to haunt me. The Words haunt me. Writing it out, putting it down on paper (so to speak) usually makes it better. If what I write seems intensely personal, it's because it is. I write from my heart and my soul. I don't know how to do it any other way. I always say 'if you want to know who I am, read me'. My Words hold my most honest and open truth. They are Me.
Don't I worry about hanging so much of myself out for everyone to see? I've been doing it for more than six years and I assuaged my fears years ago. My readers love me and read me and my detractors do the opposite.
I've long said that if someone doesn't want to know my inner most thought, feelings, and ideas, they don't have to read my blog. It's that easy. My words aren't forced on anyone. In fact, more people don't read me than read me. I'm good with this. Of course, I'd love to have a vast international readership who clamor for my books and wait with breath held for my daily posts. That may happen one day, however, for right now I'll settle for my thirty or so dedicated readers.
Occasionally people take exception to what I write. It happens. Keep in mind, I write exclusively my thoughts and feelings. I own them and I'm allowed to have them. I never slander anyone; I simply speak my truth as I see it. Even though, I never name names (unless I'm given specific permission), my 'characters' often recognize themselves. When I paint them in a good light, they are the first to raise their hands and jump up and down shouting 'That's me! That's me!'. When I'm critical of them and their actions, they call me an asshole, demand that I retract what I've written, and require an apology if our friendship is to continue.
In the early days, I did just that. I'd take the high-road, delete the blog and fall over myself apologizing. I was worried about hurting feelings and losing friends. I pondered the strength of my words and considered quitting writing all together. In each case, however, time would pass and wounds would heal. They'd tell me I was right, we'd laugh about it, they'd apologize, and I'd be pissed that I deleted a good piece of writing.
That's when I decided to let my readers suck it. I may apologize for hurting feelings all the while acknowledging that it wasn't my intention, but I will never, ever, ever again delete anything I've written. My thoughts are mine. My feelings are mine. My reactions are mine. MINE.
My blog in it's six-plus year entirety tells the story of my life during that time frame. Sanity has come and gone. Friends ('characters') have come and gone. Places have come and gone. Thoughts, feelings, and ideas have come and gone. The laundry, both clean and dirty, has been mine and mine alone. The very bottom of the bottom line - I write for my readers, but mostly I write for me. If my laundry goes viral, it's just a hazard of the job. I'll never cry about it. And God knows I won't apologize for it or delete it. And really, what hurts one may help another. That, for me, makes it all worth it.
I accept that it may largely be a rationalization, but I do occasionally hear from readers who tell me that my latest blog said exactly what they were thinking. This in turn makes me feel less alone. In that way, it's a win-win. I gain understanding and so do my readers. I'll never call my blog a 'public service' (ok, maybe there was that one time), but I think it does serve a purpose every so often.
Over the years, writing has become my therapy and, as such, a key to my sanity. Very often when I write about something, it helps me 'get over it' and close a proverbial chapter. Things tend to haunt me. The Words haunt me. Writing it out, putting it down on paper (so to speak) usually makes it better. If what I write seems intensely personal, it's because it is. I write from my heart and my soul. I don't know how to do it any other way. I always say 'if you want to know who I am, read me'. My Words hold my most honest and open truth. They are Me.
Don't I worry about hanging so much of myself out for everyone to see? I've been doing it for more than six years and I assuaged my fears years ago. My readers love me and read me and my detractors do the opposite.
I've long said that if someone doesn't want to know my inner most thought, feelings, and ideas, they don't have to read my blog. It's that easy. My words aren't forced on anyone. In fact, more people don't read me than read me. I'm good with this. Of course, I'd love to have a vast international readership who clamor for my books and wait with breath held for my daily posts. That may happen one day, however, for right now I'll settle for my thirty or so dedicated readers.
Occasionally people take exception to what I write. It happens. Keep in mind, I write exclusively my thoughts and feelings. I own them and I'm allowed to have them. I never slander anyone; I simply speak my truth as I see it. Even though, I never name names (unless I'm given specific permission), my 'characters' often recognize themselves. When I paint them in a good light, they are the first to raise their hands and jump up and down shouting 'That's me! That's me!'. When I'm critical of them and their actions, they call me an asshole, demand that I retract what I've written, and require an apology if our friendship is to continue.
In the early days, I did just that. I'd take the high-road, delete the blog and fall over myself apologizing. I was worried about hurting feelings and losing friends. I pondered the strength of my words and considered quitting writing all together. In each case, however, time would pass and wounds would heal. They'd tell me I was right, we'd laugh about it, they'd apologize, and I'd be pissed that I deleted a good piece of writing.
That's when I decided to let my readers suck it. I may apologize for hurting feelings all the while acknowledging that it wasn't my intention, but I will never, ever, ever again delete anything I've written. My thoughts are mine. My feelings are mine. My reactions are mine. MINE.
My blog in it's six-plus year entirety tells the story of my life during that time frame. Sanity has come and gone. Friends ('characters') have come and gone. Places have come and gone. Thoughts, feelings, and ideas have come and gone. The laundry, both clean and dirty, has been mine and mine alone. The very bottom of the bottom line - I write for my readers, but mostly I write for me. If my laundry goes viral, it's just a hazard of the job. I'll never cry about it. And God knows I won't apologize for it or delete it. And really, what hurts one may help another. That, for me, makes it all worth it.
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