It’s My Blog, and I’ll Write if I Want To

The dangers of making your thoughts public is that they are out there. We all suffer from the human condition, so what was once locked in your head and now available for the peering public eyes becomes peering public scrutiny.

I’ve always worried that I’d piss off a future employer with my liberal lambastes or persnickety opinions on business decorum. Never, never, did I dream that I’d actually piss of the person close to me. So much so that she has now unfriended me on Facebook. This is quite sad.

I feel sorry that her feelings were hurt about my observations. It highlights, for me, a few things. First, given her reaction, it seems to emphasize the depth of shallowness. It’s as if she’s afraid of being confronted by this criticism of not being compassionate enough. So, she has resulted in reactionary tactics without actually trying to talk to me. {ADDENDUM  [1/10] The reaction to unfriending clearly indicated hurt feelings. The existence of feelings negates the shallow interpretation I’ve used. So, what do I mean? Poor reaction? In ability to face and deal with those feelings? Inability to name what those feelings mean? To be fair, I hate being called out when I think I was right about something. What I really don’t understand though, is how she felt justified in that judgment. So, I pontificate still.}

I know it was the wrong forum for all of this. But, we’re miles apart and our relationship has devolved into characters on screens. So, that’s the mode of communication we’ve used for years. And, some things you can let go. Some things you can hold your tongue and not say anything. But, I couldn’t on that. I couldn’t on those two occasions.

I was embarrassed that I knew her. Embarrassed that this level of shallowness was exhibited by someone close to me. I realized, I am no longer proud of her. I used to be. I used to be proud of her triumph, her persistence, and most importantly – her compassion. She used to chide me on my lack of compassion and understanding. It’s ironic the tables have turned.

And, that I couldn’t let go.

So, I used the medium we’ve been using for years. This public forum. Facebook to blog — it’s all out there.

Sure, I anonymized it. I tried to give just enough details to give credibility to her side, but few enough that it wasn’t obvious to the casual observer. To her, though, she knew. She knew it was her that I was talking about, in public, on my blog.

I feel terrible that she’s this pissed off. Harboring all that anger and hurt does no one any good.

But, it’s my blog.

I have to write. I have to write to make sense of it all. And, I really wanted the question of proper etiquette out there. I get a range of 2 – 60 page views a day. I gather most of these views are robots, and about 10 are people in Portland. Occasionally  I can narrow down IP addresses to make estimates on friends or family. But, that’s rare.

So, I thought my blog was private. I figured she never read it.

Then, I made a reference to it in a post. I didn’t know she’d click on it, AND then the subsequent posts that lead her to the One. Am I that naïve?

Maybe when I’m older and wiser I’ll admit that keeping up this forum was childish and churlish. I am actually fearful of the lesson that is waiting to smack me in the face of all of this. The last time we didn’t talk was followed by tragedy so deep, it never let’s go.

But, for now, I’m holding steadfast that this is my blog, and I’ll write if I want to. I will do what is necessary to protect anonymity. But I will write about this human condition. I will write about these relationships we let turn sour. I will write about the mending. I will write. I will write because I have to. And, this is my piece of sanity.