I’m trying to get back into blogging after a few weeks of feeling out of things. When I started my blog I thought it would be at least semi-anonymous, and more and more I know it isn’t. I know there are at least some of the people around me reading it and I have moments again of fear about revealing to much about myself. Yet what kind of blogger can I be if unwilling to reveal my thoughts?
I have all along tried to keep the blog relatively impersonal, sharing bits but not too much. I’ve tried to keep from including my children’s names so they aren’t google-able, and while I’ve written about school things they do I think I’ve succeeded, for the most part, in not exploiting all the normal funny stories families accumulate as a way of growing my blog. I’ll admit I get tempted to, but I hold back. Their lives are their lives.
The part of my kid’s lives I feel most comfortable blogging about is school projects, because I’m the active element there. I’m not really writing about them, as much as about things I do with them. Except that makes me uncomfortable too, because education is supposed to be more about them, right? And what point do I have in sharing any of this anyway?
I worry blogging is just about standing out, looking for attention either as measured in pageviews or comments. I think, like some other bloggers I know, I justify it by making blogging a product – bloggers talk like they’re not looking for attention for themselves but to build up this asset, this blog, this social media capability. Or by saying it promotes a good cause, whatever that cause may be. I write about political things partly because I want to, and partly because the sense of helping spread certain ideas makes me feel less silly about the whole blog. If the blog serves some sort of social purpose, then I can try to convince myself I’m helping something rather than just trying to draw attention to myself.
Or maybe I’m practicing my writing skills. Or developing a public persona for some future career in journalism or politics. Maybe I can move to writing books someday. All of those ideas fall flat. I know I won’t have time for any of them for a long way off, and in the meantime, what purpose do I have in this?
I write because I’m shy. I write because I have so little time to talk with other adults and what time I have is fractured by the children’s chaos. I write because there are so many things I’d love to say that I know I’ll never get a chance to otherwise. I want a chance to put the pieces of my thoughts together and to share them somehow even if it is with those I do not know. There are days when the writing makes me feel less alone and many more when it leaves me feeling even more alone.
I’m always a little embarrassed when people talk to me face to face about my blog. I never know what to say. I never know how much of it they’ve read and I’m likely to make a somewhat dismissive comment. What I’d like to say of course is that I’m an open book, they know my thoughts now, would they share some of their own? How can we move into conversation about something, anything? I have a hard time sometimes conversing face to face.