I’ve been writing on this blog for almost three years. It has always been a personal blog – more personal than most, I’ve been told. But it wasn’t until recently that I understood why so many people were baffled by my openness here.
Tuesday night, Adam and I arranged to have dinner with a blogger who was in Orlando for a conference.
That in and of itself is nothing remarkable. When you live in a tourist destination there are endless opportunities to meet with people who are coming into town for one reason or another. I also travel fairly frequently so I have had the chance to meet dozens of bloggers from all over. Meeting people from the Internet has never been strange to me.
Meeting Mike (or Father Muskrat, as he’s known online) was something I was looking forward to. He comments here and I’ve been reading his blog for a few months now. We’re friends on facebook and occassionally exchange messages there and via twitter. I was interested to see what this Nascar loving, snuggly wearing lawyer was like in real life.
We met at a mexican cantina over by the amusement parks. We always have to meet out of town guests over by the amusement parks. My first thought upon bursting through the restaurant’s front door was “thank God it’s not raining in here!” My second thought was, “wow, that guy over there waving at us is cuter than I thought he’d be.”
He was remarkably charming. And interesting. It was hard not to swoon as he talked about his “incredibly smart and talented” wife. I spent the first 45 minutes grilling him about his personal life as each new detail was even more interesting than the last. Plus, it was adorable hearing him talk about law and finance and war and Civil War history in that delectable southern accent.
Our food arrived and I began the process of making myself look like a slob as I shoved mahi tacos in my mouth and dripped sour cream all over myself. I think I was wadding up my tenth napkin when he finally got around to asking the inevitable question.
“So… how are you feeling?”
He shifted in the booth a little and the reflexive “fine” caught in my throat.
I realized I couldn’t tell this man I was fine. This man, who I’d layed eyes on for the very first time only an hour earlier, already knew I wasn’t fine.
In that instant I was painfully aware of exactly how much he knew. He knew I had a son and a daughter and that their names were Devin and Emma. He knew I was married to Jared and that I worked with my best friend. He knew I had grown up in Iowa and moved to Florida, although it wasn’t until tonight that he’d heard the entire story behind why I chose Orlando.
And he knew I’d gone two months without getting my period.
He knew about the weekend that I didn’t get out of bed. He knew about the fatigue and how it crushed me sometimes. He knew about the search for a doctor and the vials of blood that were being spun in a machine somewhere in a desperate attempt to find out what the hell was wrong with me. He knew about the drugs I was taking to keep myself sane.
As I stared at him across a table littered with the remains of nachos and salsa, I suddenly felt extremely naked and vulnerable. I understood, in that moment, why people thought the way I blogged was weird. I understood why people said “I could never do that”.
For the first time since I started this blog, I wondered what the hell I was doing talking about all of this crap on the Internet.
And then, as I looked into the eyes behind the glasses, I noticed the way his head was tilted ever so slightly to the side. I sensed that it made him a little uncomfortable to ask how I was doing, but also that he was sincerely interested in the answer. I saw that this man, this person whose wife’s name I had just learned, wasn’t judging me or sizing me up or waiting to hear some juicy Internet gossip. He was asking me how I was doing because he knew, and because he cared.
I exhaled and told him that I was doing better. I told him about the changes in my diet and my efforts with exercise and stress management. The conversation carried on and I doubt anyone else at the table was even aware of the revelations that had just spun through my head.
We continued to talk late into the night, until I realized that I was still over an hour from home and suggested we say our goodbyes. We drove our new friend back to his hotel, Adam took me back to my car, and I drove home. Another successful blogger meetup was over.
But that moment has stuck with me this week.
I’ve relived that feeling of nakedness over and over, and I’ve wondered if what I am doing here is a mistake. I’ve mentally reread hundreds of posts in which I have shared the most intimate details of my life with thousands of virtual strangers. I’ve cringed a little at the realization that not only has my brother-in-law had to read about my battles with a lost tampon, but about my failures as a mother and wife. I’ve thought about my sister-in-law reading about my battles with depression. I’ve thought about my friends from high school who have now been witnesses to my breakdowns in mental health.
All of the things that you reserve for those closest to you, that you keep quiet about in polite conversation, they’ve already been said for me. By me. I can’t walk into a class reunion and swap stories of accomplishment in an attempt to show how successful my life has turned out. I can’t go home for Christmas and cherry pick the details of my new life in an effort to prove how great we’re all doing.
And I can’t walk into a mexican cantina in Orlando and pretend to be fine in front of someone I’ve just met.
It’s startling to realize you don’t have any secrets from the world. Any masks I would attempt to wear have already been ripped away as fraudulent, and by my own hand. There’s very little barrier, very little protection, between the outside world and the most delicate parts of who I am.
And yet, there is some relief in that. In talking to Mike I realized that there was no need to pretend I was anything other than myself in front of him. Regardless of how he might have felt about who I was, there was simply no point in going through the motions of trying to be anyone else.
Having people look at you and see you – the good, the bad, the ugly and the shameful – is terrifying. But it’s also freeing. It’s kind of nice to know that I don’t have to worry about what kind of impression I’ll make or which facade I have to hold up.
And I don’t even know how to tell you how healing it is to know that you are seen
and accepted exactly how you are.
Muskrat, Britt and Adam
Good for you. It takes real courage to be honest on the internet. It is your honesty and openness that keeps me coming back. Two quotes:
To thine own self be true.
Shaksepeare
That’s how you become great. You hang your balls out in the air.
The copy guy in Jerry Maguire
@daniel, I’ve heard that bit about courage and honesty before and always thought “nah, I’m not courageous. Just naive, maybe.” LOL
Now that I’m more aware of it, I guess I’ll see how much courage I really have.
I prefer to hide behind a mask of mystery and deceit, thankyouverymuch.
@avitable, I’m aware.
I loved this.
@texasholly @ june cleaver nirvana, ah, that’s nice to hear.
I love you. Thanks for sharing, even when it hurts. I’m so glad you are part of my life.
@Shash, me too. I don’t know that I’ve ever known anyone who embraces people as easily as you do.
I really appreciate that.
I admire your openness and honesty here. ((hugs))
@Heather @Domestic Extraordinaire, thank you. Really. I used to say thanks to that because it was the polite thing to do, but I think I have a better understanding of it now so… really.. thank you.
It’s that openness that makes you you and why we all love you.
@Angie [A Whole Lot of Nothing], oddly enough, it’s also the thing that makes some people not love me much at all. LOL
This is exactly the reason why I feel that “blogger friends” know me far better than my family and friends. It’s why we don’t feel like strangers when we meet face to face. I think it’s nice to know that we don’t have to waste time on “back story” and explanations when our ‘facetime’ together happens to very short and precious.
@metalmom, yep, absolutely. That is one of the coolest things about meeting people you know from blogging.
That was totally a big part of the awkwardness and semi-silence that I had when I was with you and Hilly. I found that it was probably inappropriate to ask the questions that I wanted to about how both of you were doing.
I’ve thought about our meeting a lot over the past month and all the questions that I DIDN’T ask and wonder if I should have.
(Let’s not make this all about me)
I think you are so totally brave to put it all out there – so much better than bottling it up. I don’t think anyone has ever made the argument that “keeping it all inside” is the way to go…
There are so many caring and supportive people out there in the world, and it’s phenomenal how often I’ve found that sharing some of my crap both resonates with people and results in other people letting me know that I’m not alone in it.
xo
@Princess of the Universe, that makes sense. I can imagine it would be weird to sit across the table from a naked person.
….This is why I totally love you. To me, even though we live a plane ride away, I still feel like you’re more than a friend in my head. Don’t stop sharing.
@Robin, and when we got to have those days in NYC, it was so awesome to already have someone so close to me to share it with.
When I’m talking to friends, I wonder sometimes if they say what they did because they’ve read my blog. And actually, a co-worker asked me question yesterday and I wondered if she had found my blog. Maybe, maybe not.
It’s hard to know how to refer to a blog post during a conversation, “You said on your blog…. So, how’s that going?”
@Rachel, I used to wonder the SAME thing before I knew for sure that my SIL read my blog. LOL
I think this is why I was so comfortable at BlogHer last year. I am never comfortable in a sea of new people, with no one I know – but there? I felt at home. After all, those people know more about me than my family members who do not read my blog.
Still, I’ve also struggled with how open to be there. I sometimes wonder if I should regret a post after it’s been published. More and more people from my real, everyday life are reading now and that… that can get a bit more uncomfortable.
@Diana, both of my parents read this blog, so I get that. But I think it’s also made me closer to them.
You are awesome, and you amaze me every day with the strength you have. Thank you for blogging your experiences, it makes people feel less alone…even if it sometimes makes others uncomfortable. Thank you again, you have inspired me.
@Becca, man, I think that is one of the best compliments someone can give another person. Thank you.
That, for me, is the entire point.
@Finn, me too.
It’s the one thing I want to tell you so many times when you worry about having to be guarded.
Wow, Britter, excellent post.
You know, back in the day of airy-fairiness, there was a big deal about getting to the point where you could get rid of all the masks you wear and just BE who you are. It was supposed to be a sign of growth and self-actualization that you no longer felt you HAD to hide, and that you were comfortable being vulnerable because you realized that ultimately, what other people think is more about THEM than you.
You are an extraordinary woman, my young padawan.
@Britt’s mom,
Wow, I loved this post but I think I loved your comment even more! You’re such a supportive mom and Britt’s a very lucky daughter.
@Britt’s mom, I wonder where I get all of this awesomeness from….
xo
Sometimes answering “fine” doesn’t help you. It may seem the like the polite thing to do, it may seem like the easier thing to do, but opening up and talking about everything helps. Alot.
You are a beautiful person inside and out. Keep doing what you are doing. I think it is great. (and I would be lying if I didn’t envy your ability to be 1,000% honest.)
@themuttprincess, SO true (about the openness helping I mean). It’s the #1 benefit I’ve gotten from writing here.
You’re so frickin’ cute, I could just put you in my pocket. But I’m sure that’s already been said.
@Dory, hahahhahahaha – nope! That’s a first!
This transparency you mention, not only provides the benefits you describe, but what about those archives? Don’t you look back and see how far you’ve come now that it’s been a while? That’s what I think is most valuable about the times when I spilled my guts anyway. I honestly believe it helps you grow… Faster. We’re forced to examine our situation instead of just ignoring things, and make changes when necessary. With the loving support of commenters, no less!
@Atomic Bombshell, yep, that’s true too. Although sometimes I look back and think “damn, I was an asshole!” LOL
First of all, it’s a Snuggie, not a Snuggly!
Second, When Adam and I were exchanging emails about meeting, and he said he wanted to make it an evening in which you could come, too, my first thought was, “Shouldn’t she be in bed, not driving several miles to meet some blogging friend?” but I figured he knew better than I whether you’d be up for it physically or not. In any event, glad you could come, and thanks for the kind words! Hope y’all have a good holiday weekend and that tyrant bastard you work for closes shop Monday (and today for his weekly movie outing).
@father muskrat, dude – it’s a blanket with arms!
And HA! I told Adam you were only interested in meeting him!!
@Miss Britt, it’s not true. His email said, “Dear minion to Miss Britt. Can you set up a meet between me and her? I love her. You can come if you promise not to speak.”
@avitable, That is EXACTLY what I recall writing.
I’ve been blogging for over six years (with my current blog) and even though I rarely blog anything personal, people still manage to get a sense of who I am from the sheer volume of material I’ve produced over the years. In the many times I’ve met with bloggers, they’ve always managed to “get” me, even if they don’t really know many details about my life. This is both good and bad, mostly because people tend to “fill in the blanks” when they don’t know something, which is often worse than if they knew what’s really going on.
@Dave2, I think we’ve talked about this before but the ironic part is – people still fill in the blanks with what they want even if you lay it all out there.
@Miss Britt, Absolutely. You can spill all of your guts everywhere and people will still find a way to create your story for you. It’s just the nature of the beast, I guess.
@Hilly, and sometimes? Those “creative stories” are SO far off base. No matter how hard you try to articulate WHO you are, how you feel .. etc.
I’m a very open person, online and in the real world. I would be even more open and honest online if I didn’t have red tape all over parts of my life. I always wonder how people who meet me see me in relation to the person online. I think I’m much more interesting online.
@Robin, I can’t imagine blogging like you do with all of the things you have to be so careful of. That would be HARD.
Let this post be a constant reminder to you that, all else aside and all else included, you are an awesomely blessed woman.
@mare, amen to that.
You are amazingly open and I admire that a lot. My friends and some family read my blog and I do a lot of censoring because of it.
Oh and your mom? Coolest mom ever!
@floating princess, yeah, she is pretty great.
I think it would be a lot harder for me to write if I couldn’t slip into a temporary amnesia about the people who read this blog. LOL
This reminds me of the times that I have a reunion (of sorts) with someone I haven’t seen or spoken to in a long time (read: years). And when they ask “So, what’s new?” there’s too much to tell (of course), so I inevitably say “Nothing much.”
Blogging solves that problem. In a good way. Maybe I should start a blog. Nah, I’m just kidding about that part. But it does solve a very big problem of people not knowing what’s going on in your life.
@Dawn, solves it – kind of. The other thing is when my friend Erin asks what’s new I’m likely to say “JESUS WHY DON’T YOU READ MY BLOG!!”
You kind of get out of the practice of having to actually make an effort to tell people about yourself.
Great story about meeting another blogger for the first time.
I thought Adam didn’t like to meet other bloggers….
@martymankins, hahhhahahaha – Adam is more likely to schedule a blogger meet up than I am! I think he half expects that one of these times someone will actually show him their boobs at dinner or something.
@Miss Britt, So Adam is all talk and some do. I knew it.
You had me going there for a minute. I thought you were going to say this guy was there to judge you. And I didn’t want to have to send him hate mail.
Very nice.
I’m always so afraid to put my family’s real names out there for similar reasons. Don’t know the crazies from the ones who would actually be compassionate.
I love that about personal blogging. You know me – much more of me than you should – and you can take it or leave it before I even give a damn about you.
I totally get where you’re coming from, Britt. It’s something I struggle with daily: how to post honestly and openly without revealing too much. I think part of what allows me to be as honest as I am is the anonymity my wife and I have chosen. I know I couldn’t write as openly as you do under my own name, and I am always impressed with the ease with which you (appear to) do it.
Revealing all this stuff on your blog makes you more human than anyone I know, and as counter-intuitive as it may sound more intriguing. If only I could ever finish a post about how my baby pissed in his own face while i was changing him and made me feel like the worst mother in the world, or the millions and millions of meds i take on a daily basis, and what led to them, when they get changed, etc.. please, from a stranger in a different country, never stop blogging, because you are an inspiration.. i’m sure to us all, but you definitely are to me.
And plus, i’m sure you still have a few secrets
<-was way too long to reply under ur facebook status
@amanda, that made you feel like a bad mom? When my sons did that, first, I thought it was funny. Second, I assumed that was THEIR problem. Now when they peed in MY face, THAT was another story!
@Britt’s mom, haha, I started crying. Late nights with an infant & postpartum pshychoses’ll crack that..
I felt so awful.. i just lifted his legs to wipe his little butt and then SPLASH right in his face and eyes and everything.. it didn’t seem to phase him.. he just kinda blinked like.. ahh that was warm.. what the fuck, ma?
Last night I was watching 30 Rock (did you see it?) and Tina Fey was talking about how she wanted to meet a man and already be 12 years into the relationship so that the small talk crap was over with and they could sit comfortably on the couch, watch TV together, go to bed and not be hassled for sex. That’s what meeting bloggers is like. We are already PAST the awkward getting to know you stuff. We wouldn’t be hanging out if we didn’t already dig the other person and know their deal. We’re all like couples that have known each other 12 years already, sitting comfortably on the couch. Granted. When I met you, I hadn’t ready your blog yet. We did it the old fashioned way – but I thought you rocked as is so that worked out fine too.
(Now should I add here “at least I didn’t hassle you for sex”? Well. At least I didn’t.)
Very good points. Will keep that in mind, I’ve yet to really meet any bloggers in the flesh. Hope that changes soon.
Everyone in that picture is nauseatingly attractive.
Yes, about your post. We’re all exposed, all the time. I’ve met fellow bloggers who know things about me that people in my real life don’t suspect and it’s a little bit like what the movies tell us coming home feels like. Not the one with Jon Voigt, necessarily. But it feels good. I think.
Well, I know my week’s not complete without a good tampon fishing story.
Britt, you are so loved by so many people, with or without your faults. And may I be honest here? “The Lost Tampon” was the first post I ever read of yours, and without it, I wouldn’t be here today.
See how lucky you are? Though truth and honesty, I found you!
That’s cool. I admire you for “putting it all out there”. You’re an inspiration to those that may feel stuck about blogging. For me it’s been a little way of dealing with what’s going on inside me, and it works for me. People in my “widow school” look at me like I have two heads. But it does me good, so I’m gonna keep at it.
I hope you do too, and I look forward to the day I can meet some fellow bloggers. Maybe Halloween?
Wow, I had almost the same convo with a few people this week, who have told me that it may not be so smart for me to be writing about my nervous breakdown during said breakdown, knowing that my ex husband may be reading, putting so much of myself out there for the world to see.
I don’t have the readership that you do, but still there’s a couple hundred people who read last week that I almost killed myself on Thursday. And that is scary if I think about it too much.
And then I get an email from someone who says that what I’ve written makes her feel not so crazy and not so alone. And then I have a convo with someone at a party last night who said she loves me and she’s there for me, even if I never reach out–that she’s rooting for me.
If I didn’t blog about it, I would feel a hell of a lot more alone in this than I do.
And yes, if future employers found my blog (one reason why my whole name isn’t used) they may pass on hiring me because of my complications. But I’ll take that risk because, as you just wrote, people care even if they don’t know you. And that makes it all worth it.
Keep it up. We’re all rooting for you.
Best,
Lynn
As mentioned above, this is why I love this blog, your honesty is brillant. You are an amazing person and if you ever visit Ireland I would love to take you out for a piss-up.
Slainte.
I haven’t been blogging all that long (about a year), but it’s something that I’ve struggled with. For me though, I’m always 100% honest, I just don’t talk about some things. I’d like to, but I’ve always been afraid of reprucussions. What would my mother say if she knew what I really thought every time I saw her name on my caller id? Will my husband be upset if I wrote about the really important/bad/initimate arguments? The list goes on and on. I think you strike a great balance, and it’s what inspired me to start reading your blog. Hang in there. You’re inspriation for the rest of us!
This is one reason I have such a hard time thinking of my blogger friends as people I “haven’t met” or that my first encounter with them in-person is “meeting” them. When you meet someone, you don’t know anything about them, and they you. But he knew a LOT about you, so regardless of whether or not you’d ever touched him, seen the color of his eyes or heard the sound of his voice, you’ve MET him already.
That’s the strange, scary thing about this internet place. It totally removes boundaries between friend and stranger. Strangers know as much as friends, friends know as much as strangers. And it’s up to each of us to figure out what remains ONLY friends (or family), and what is open to strangers.
I think many people search for ways to be more open and free… inside they wish they could tell the world their pains and be transparent. Why do we care so much about what others think anyway?
I loved your post. My first time reading. I’ll be back.
Britt, I have been rading for quiet some time now and I have to tell you a few things! You are real, you share what real life is all about. That is why I read you! I know that I am not the only one to experience these issues. I am sure I am also not the only one that feels this way! Please continue to be yourself with those of us who love to read your writings. Believe it or not there are many of us out here who care about you!
I love the realness(is that a word?) that I get from you!
I think that’s awesome.
I couldn’t do it. I save my secrets and all my sides for my dearest friends, and I have not yet met a blogger who qualifies as that. Yet.
EVERY SINGLE TIME that I start a new post, I’m all “It’s going to be different this time. I will be less personal dammit!” but then, by the end of my post you know every single thing that I ate that day, what Cory and I are fighting about, how many times I pee’d, you name it.
Thank God I am not the only one!
Definitely seen, definitely accepted.
I appreciate your openness. I am completely not like that. Well, not as much as you, but I admire that about you!
Like everyone else here, I enjoy your blog because you are so open and honest. I used to be more open on my blog, until I met my husband, and now I censor myself like crazy because he’s not a fan of “airing dirty laundry all over the internet.” It bothers me that I can’t be as open as I’d like for the sake of my relationship. Someday I’ll be able to balance that. In the meantime, I’ll continue to be an avid reader of your blog.
Oh Britt, I’m always wondering the same things! Every time I post something, I wonder if it’s going to come back and bite me. It’s hard not to care. But I love that freedom that comes with it. I think I even wrote about how one of my coworkers reads my blog. It’s a little unnerving, but hey. Someone’s gotta do it.
The hardest blog to write is my Scars Can Speak, but I constantly remind myself that someone’s gotta do it. Someone has to tell the truth and be real rather than spouting off complete crap, trying to be funny or witty or cute.
Thank you for always being so honest in your blogs. It’s why I always come back, because I know you won’t bullshit me.
I have struggled with being open in my blog, not because strangers read it, but because my family reads it. My mother and one of my brothers already treat my blog as if it’s their only source of information about me and use it to make small talk, which makes me uncomfortable, because my blog didn’t used to BE small talk. Unfortunately, that’s what it’s become, and I’m trying to figure a way out of my situation. I’m stuck in the land of cute without a map.
So there’s that, and your post is dead-on, and it reminds me that I need to resolve it. But the most dismaying part of your post was that I didn’t know you were anywhere near Orlando, and I just spent a week there last week!! ARRRGGGHHH!!!
I feel you, sister. I’m glad you were able to find and accept the positive in the situation. The alternative is what? Not being you, perhaps? We can’t have that. xo
Hi, nice posts there
thank’s for the interesting information
I love how absolutely honest you are. It’s how I want to blog, but I always end up self editting my life. I never know wht’s too much or not enough or just not interesting at all.
Yeah. It is weird.
Also weird now that regular life people know my blog friends online.
A mom at school asked me about one of my blog friends. One of my real friends just told me that one of my blog friends was pregnant.
But it is nice to sort of have it all out there sometimes. I don’t have to pretend to be perfect when everyone already knows the truth.
you are beautiful naked.
i love that you put it all out here. although if one day you decide to write differently, to hold a bit back, that would be fine, too. we all just want you to be happy.
That’s one of the things I’ve noticed in my blogger meet ups… everyone is so incredibly cool and accepting and caring. You walk in scared and walk out relieved, wishing the meet up wouldn’t end. I’ve never had a single bad experience meeting bloggers.
And I finally get to meet you in June!
I was going to say something brilliant, heartfelt and insightful until I noticed how very much like a well tanned Meg Ryan you look like in that photo. Your. Welcome.
@Britt, OMG. *You’re*. Never comment while on crack.
@Faiqa, damn! You got in here as I was leaving my snarky comment!
@Faiqa, her welcome what?
@avitable, Do you know how good it feels that I can verify that not only are you NOW the obnoxious geek that goes around correcting people in order to feel self-important but that you have been this way for, at least, the past sixteen years?
@Faiqa, I’m just trying to keep the world from getting stupider. And apparently failing!
@avitable, No, last time I checked you don’t have any kids, so we’re good in that department. Ha!!
@Faiqa, ha! Touche.
The thing about the Internet is that you could potentially be anyone you want to be. The fact that you choose to be you says a lot. I think people appreciate honesty and authenticity. I know I do.
@Stacey, I second that. I think it’s a little impressive that anyone is honest anymore. Let alone open up to the world like this, it’s refreshing. And I also think that, as we read, we sometimes relate to your story, and sometimes take lessons from it. So there, thanks for that.
“And I don’t even know how to tell you how healing it is to know that you are seen and accepted exactly how you are.”
I am just in awe of how open and real you are here. I find I always hold something back, but for posts where I do go that extra bit, letting more of the real me poke through, it’s scary, but also so much more rewarding to receive the comments and feedback. Of acceptance, as you have so eloquently written about here.
I am so glad that you had a wonderful blogger meet up. I’ve had a couple and I have yet to be disappointed. Hope I get to meet you in Chicago…
I recently met a blogger whose blog I had been reading for years, and it was like we knew each other, and in some ways she probably knew more about me than anyone I have met who hasn’t read my blog.
I respect that you can be so open and honest on your blog. I tend to get myself involved in unnecessary drama, and once I ended up hurting someone elses feelings so I tend to post about the cute and ordinary in my life, instead of the honest an serious things that go on.
Still, I’m glad that there’s someone out there who is brave enough to do what you’ve done.
Go you!
Oh my goodness. I know what you mean. Granted, mine encounters were less emotional and mre embarrassing. Five and half years ago when I was 19 I started my blog and posted pictures of things such as, various dildos I was purchasing and the odd measurements of my nipples. Then I would see friends in real life who were reading it. Awkward. Yeah…I’ve toned it way down since then.
I’m glad you’ve put it all out there. Because I think you’re a wonderful person and I’m so very happy to have met you and to know you. Without blogging there would be no connection and I think putting it all out there is a good thing.
Yeahyeahwhatever but what did he say about *me*?!?!?
*HUGS* <—This is me loving you for all your health/mental/comedy/family/job/friend/period/vulnerable/TMI/BTDT/BSDM issues. DONE!
Wonderful post and something I hadn’t really thought about because I have never met any bloggers before in real life and have recently changed my blog site to get rid of the readers from real life, precisely so I can find an honest voice inside me. I really truly admire people that are honest all the time, and are the same person with everyone they come into contact with. I wish I could be that way, but I have a million and one personas inside me and depending on who I’m with I’m one person or another and my family doesn’t know who I really am. Actually, maybe only my blogger friends and my husband do.
I LOVE this post! It’s totally how I feel about my own blogging. It’s tiring, trying to be someone you’re not…trying to live up to something you’re not and would rather not be. I’d rather be open and honest and free than restricted and hidden and weighed down by all that I want to say but can’t or won’t.
[...] ya, and after reading Miss Britt’s awesomely written post on the consequences of personal blogging (the only term I don’t mind, might I remind you), I’ve also come to realize that I tend [...]
[...] I stopped talking to a friend. (This drama includes nasty emails and comments on my personal blog. Ah, the joys of personal blogging!) I’m also still feeling the residue of last week’s fiasco that came from my mentioning [...]
There is a reason I blog anonymously.
I get annoyed when my hubby gets too interested in what I’m doing.
NO WAY am I going to meet a perfect stranger in the supermarket who knows more than he does.
Your honesty and vulnerability is really refreshing.
Great post.
I have a private, semi-anonymous blog where I talk about the deeper issues with some folks I’ve met over the years. we get to see each other in person sometimes, and it is GREAT.
cheers!