True

There are two reasons to why I started this online diary: I started it after a breakup, as something new to occupy my time. I needed something that did not involve excessive amounts of crying, ice cream or other boys and this was my way to do just that. To put my energy into something creative, something that was just mine, a sort of nod to myself, giving myself permission to be self-centered and creative. I know I can come off narcissistic, especially on this blog because it is after all my blog and it is about my life but sometimes it’s hard for me to talk (write) about myself. I, like other women, have been conditioned to believe that I as a person don’t really matter; that what I have to say is neither necessary nor interesting. This notion is deep seated in me and I don’t wear it on my sleeve but its there. In my Women’s Studies classes in college, we talked a lot about women’s voices. Not their physical voices per se, but their ability to express themselves, their confidence in themselves speak in a way that they would be heard. Until recently, my personal voice was not interesting to me. I know other people may have differed on this, but deep down inside, I wasn’t sure that I had anything worthwhile to say to me. I am slowly beginning to realize that I am worthwhile, and thought what I have to say may sound redundant in my head, it is worth talking about and worth documenting.

This leads me to the second reason why I started this blog…because I am lazy. In college and in the few years following graduation, I kept a paper diary. When I go back and read some of the entries now, it brings back memories of days gone by, it also reminds me of what a long way I’ve come. Some of the entries are sheer amusement and others are plain sad in the simplistic and often skewed way I viewed the world. I stopped keeping a diary right after my dad died, partly because I was afraid of what might come out on paper and partly because I was just too busy dealing with the grief and life change for me and my family. When we were finally okay again (years later…), I found it tedious to actually write stuff down because who writes anymore? We just type. By that time, I also typed faster than I wrote so here we are, in blog world, five years too late.

My decision to make this blog public was at first a natural one. I was tired of keeping things to myself and letting them fester. I need to put these words out there, into the Universe. I thought it would be okay for my thoughts to be public. I wasn’t going to be shy about what I wanted to say but people I know read this blog, everyone from ex-boyfriends to my brother. When I realized what this meant, that my musings and rantings and randomness would be out there for them to see, I stopped writing for ten-ish days, not sure of how to proceed. I felt the need to be constantly entertaining to everyone, to write neat little entries that were witty and tightly bundled and grammatically correct. I was suddenly shy of anything raw or “weak” coming out, splayed all over the Internet for all to see. Not only to see, my biggest fear was: “for all to judge”. Because we all know that we can be judgy (me included). Maybe I was projecting my own jugdy-ness (yes I make up words) onto my loved ones and friends. Should I now censor myself so as not to offend exes and mortify siblings? Is that being fair to the reason I started doing this in the first place? I didn’t want to offend and startle people, though anyone that knows me knows that I have an innate gift for both offending as well as startling. In my day-to-day real life, I can be very inyourface and outspoken. Why then, did the thought of people I know reading this blog scare me senseless and made me want to go hide under the covers? Probably because these words are immortalized on the Internet and there for all to see, to go back and reference. For certain exes, it gives them a leg up on me. They (by they I mean one ex in particular) know exactly what I am thinking while they can remain an enigma to me. But you know what? You’ve always been an enigma and not in a good way. Sure, it was exciting and intriguing in the beginning when I was an innocent young-twenty-something and you were the older, wise-in-the-ways-of-the-world, successful man who swooped in and saved me, or so I thought. Now, seeing as years have passed and I no longer place you on a pedestal and bat my eyes upward at you, it may just be sad that you can’t let anyone in. I don’t mean just romantically, as I’ve seen you shut people out socially, in little ways. You always trail off when talking to people you’ve just met, especially when it’s about yourself. In fact, you will always try to steer the conversation in the other person’s direction and are happiest when the other person is struggling with life or career decisions so you can advise them on the steps they should take to fix themselves. What’s with your need to always keep a huge chunk of you to yourself? I’ve never seen you be open and honest or proud to be you. You’re always quiet, always calculating, always assessing, plotting. Frankly it can be a little creepy. I wonder what you’re hiding but it doesn’t consume me anymore. If anything, it amuses me when I think about it in passing.

Back to the point, my mission (and I chose to accept it) is to write like no one is reading. While I’m at it, I will also dance like no one is watching. Though the “loving like I’ve never been hurt” thing is going to take a lot of work and is at the bottom of my list. That is one line item that I am not ready or willing to tackle for a while yet.