When I started this blog, I didn’t exactly know in which direction I was going to go but I felt instinctively that whatever I decided to write would be written with 95% honesty and 5% embellishment. It wasn’t long before I knew that I’d be writing primarily about my own life. I’ve always said that you should write what you know and, well, I know me.
It also wasn’t long before I knew I’d be writing with transparency and by that, I don’t mean that I decided against conjuring up some fake online persona who was living the single life in New York City and scheduling her next in vitro session but rather, I decided that I wouldn’t use fake names or refer to my husband as The Big Kahuna or my kids as Little Kahuna #1 and Little Kahuna #2. While I applaud bloggers who do just that to protect their privacy, I know my limits and simply thinking about how I would keep track of my online persona and keep it separate and apart from my real life is exhausting. Better to just keep it simple and have my blog reflect my real life and then I wouldn’t have to worry that in one post I referred to Little Kahuna #1 as Helena and in another, as Zoe. Or that I once referred to Little Kahuna #2 as my four year old son and then three months later, I blogged about how Little Kahuna #2 couldn’t wait to get a padded bra and a Sephora gift card for Christmas and then immediately had to blog the very next day for continuity sake about how I just discovered that Little Kahuna #2 was gay.
That being said, I have set some blogging boundaries. Among a slew of things I don’t blog about, I don’t blog about my husband’s job. Nor do I sneeze intimate details of my children’s personal lives and relationships all over my blog, although dirty underwear strewn on the living room floor is free game. And while many of my posts dance under a billboard with WARNING: TMI BELOW emblazoned on it in strobe lights, you’d be surprised at how much of my personal life I don’t blog about. Happy stuff, no problem. Stuff that makes me cry long into the night, not so much, unless I can find some humor in it because finding the funny and letting it guide me to a safe place has always been my survival tactic. So while I blog with a certain degree of transparency, I also blog with a certain degree of privacy as well.
Sometimes, the price I pay for choosing to maintain this balance is a high one, especially when I can’t find the funny, even with binoculars. It means that when I’m filled with anger or disappointment, I cannot come here and vent until my fingers bleed from typing so much screaming. Nor can I cry and drip snot all over this blog because I’m feeling overwhelmed with sadness. Because my blog is based on my real life which means real people and real relationships are at stake and words, even those written on a blog in the heat of the moment or after a year and a half of emotional turmoil, can affect them all and sometimes hurt far more than a well placed kick to the gut. So while my blog is my creative outlet, my therapy, my joy and often times my solace, it is only to a certain extent and on occasions like tonight, when I need it to be more, it fails me. The fact that I knowingly chose it to fail only amps up the frustration level and makes me occasionally wish that I had chosen to blog anonymously instead because then, I’d only have my own feelings to worry about and I could let my soul weep without caring if anyone else’s soul was crushed in the process, or I could let the proverbial shit hit the fan and not care a whit about who gets sprayed with poop.
But that’s not me. And I can only blog about what I know which is, well, me. Funny how things come full circle, isn’t it? Which means I’ll more than likely be paying a $40 co-pay to some therapist so that she can pick up the slack where my blog left off.
I wrote this post because tonight I realized, yet again, that the life I once envisioned for myself is not going to be and while that doesn’t make me any different than 99% of the rest of the world, it still stings. And while the rational part of me knows that it’s not the end of the world, the emotional part of me turned to my blog, hoping to find some solace within its tight parameters.