Seems like the lives we see reflected via social media come in two flavors: the shiny-happy-flavor or the woe-is-me-flavor.
When you know an online persona for a long time, you may see some movement between those two. Perhaps a person is mostly shiny-happy but occasionally goes all woe-is-me.
And, well, who doesn’t, right?
Facebook is notoriously criticized for these things. Shiny-happy people post “Look! Look at my child! He’s the smartest ever! Look at the smile! Look at his messy face! Look at the poo-poo he made in his diaper! I love my husband! We are so !#@$ing cute someone ought to follow us around with cameras! I cook every meal from scratch, and grow all my own vegetables, and we only eat organic! I weave my own fabric and sew my own clothes! I saved a meelion dollars with coupons last month! My house is never messy! My kid hasn’t even started school yet and he’s already on the honor roll!”
We hate those people, don’t we? Don’t we??
But the other side isn’t much fun either. Woe-is-me people post “Life sucks. My job sucks. People suck. People who think they’re so special suck. People who don’t realize I’m special suck. Why do all the good things only happen to other people? None of my lottery tickets every hit the jackpot. Nobody loves me. Nothing ever goes my way. Feel sorry for me. Wah.”
We don’t care for those people overly much, either.
In reality, we all have more depth of dimension than we show online. (Please tell me we do!) I think sometimes the happy-shiny-people are trying to convince themselves of their happiness as much as they’re selling it to the rest of us. Most of us are trying to keep it real without giving too much of ourselves away, without going somewhere we cannot come back from, without jeopardizing the privacy of our loved ones, without laying bare our own tender spots for all to see.
I share quite a bit of what is personal, and yet I guard the parts that need guarding. Not because I’m trying to pretend to be someone I’m not, but because certain aspects of my life just aren’t up for public scrutiny. I do well enough scrutinizing those myself at 3AM when I should be sleeping, thankyouverymuch.
My blog is my happy spot – a place where I can leave all that other garbage behind.
I have given this a lot of thought, especially since I came out fully. I recognize that my family and friends, people they know, people who work with me, people who I ask to prescribe me medications, my kids’ teachers, people I may someday want to hire me, and people who audit my taxes can read all that I say. That keeps me honest, but more importantly, it keeps me careful.
I’m not trying to be anyone other than who I am, but I’m not going to write a 1,000 word essay on everything I hate about my husband or share the specifics of my crappy day week month at work. I can’t. You wouldn’t respect that, and I would likely regret it. People would get hurt and I never want my writing to be the cause of pain to anyone.
No deceit is intended. I don’t aim to portray life differently than it really is, but remember, we all put our public faces on when we go out and face the world. Blogs are no different. If you want the down and dirty, let’s meet at the bar. I’ll lay it out there until you beg me to stop.
Me? I’m a mostly-happy and very fortunate person. I try to keep a good perspective and succeed at it most of the time. There are things I’d change if I had a magic wand, sure. There are days that my laserbeam-heat-vision melts anyone unfortunate enough to get in its way. There are days where it’s all falling apart around me.
Maybe even today is one of those days.
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When I come here, it’s not to cry on your shoulder or to flaunt a shiny false veneer. It’s so we can laugh at life in spite of the hard parts.
This morning, I was running late, scrambling to get my gym bag packed and leave for work. I was grumbling and tearing open dresser drawers looking for some damn workout pants. HOW CAN I NOT HAVE ANY CLEAN YOGA PANTS? I must have 6 pairs! I hate this house, I hate that laundry is always behind. I hate that I can never find anything. I hate that I have to go to the gym. I hate everything that’s going on at work. HATEHATEHATEHATEHATE.
Why is everything so difficult? I just want to run away.
And then….
I’m not opposed to a pantless society, mind you. I just don’t want to go first.
