To blog or not to blog, that is the question

I wrote this on January 9, 2015, before I signed up for this top-secret blog:

I really appreciate the feedback from people who have suggested I write a blog.  Here are some of my thoughts about it:

  • Often I get the suggestion that I write a blog after I’ve written something humorous. I do enjoy writing humor, but the thought that I must regularly be humorous in a blog would surely rob me of the little sense of humor I have left.  I just don’t think I could be funny on demand.  Also, I don’t always want to be funny, and I don’t want to feel the pressure to be.  That would take all the “fun” out of “funny” for me.
  • The kind of things I enjoy writing tend to be… hmm, what’s the word I’m looking for? Irreverent?  Sarcastic? Morbid?  Provocative?  Inappropriate?  (Pick one.  Actually pick them all.)  To post publicly using my real name would identify my family and friends (who frequently provide grist for my mill, particularly my family).  I don’t know if I could generate enough material that I’d actually enjoy writing without eventually, inadvertently, offending or hurting the feelings of someone I care about.  For example, I try not to write things about my kids that they may not appreciate, now or down the road.  I really hope they grow up to be people who can laugh at themselves, but I only account for 50% of their genetics. Unfortunately, that makes a lot of good material off limits.  While I don’t know anything about blogs, I’m guessing there may be ways around this, such as making certain blog posts visible only to people with a password, but that sounds too much like excluding people, and I have issues with that. (Yes, I have a lot of issues.  Keep reading.)
  • Then there’s the issue that I least want to discuss: The V-word.  NO, not THAT V-word.  VULNERABILITY.  (Gasp!  Deep breath.)  I’m like a flasher.  I want to expose myself when I want to, to the extent I want to, and on my terms.  I don’t want to walk around naked all the time with my cellulite and saggy breasts hanging out.  Weirdly, when I post something, I don’t really think about it when I’m not at my computer at home.  If I committed more to writing, such as by having a blog, I might feel less like a flasher and more like a stripper or a nude model or something.  (I need to work a little more on this analogy.)
  • A related thought is that I write for me, and occasionally share. I don’t want to enjoy it less by feeling like I have too many demands on the frequency or content, and I don’t want to write it for others.  It really needs to be enjoyable for me.  A very nice byproduct of that can be others’ enjoyment, but whether they do or do not enjoy it really can’t get in the way of my enjoyment.  (If you understood that, you are probably just as neurotic as I am.)
  • I certainly don’t want to be influenced by how well what I wrote was received (ugh) or be subject to judgment (e.g., “If my breasts sagged as much as hers, there’s no way I’d show myself naked…”).
  • Although I can’t think of anything I’ve posted that I made up completely, I do exaggerate sometimes. I actually have a little trouble with that, stickler as I am for the truth and for not misleading people.  I’m going to try to be OK with this.  You try, too.
  • My kids might one day like this window into me. I might like them to have it, and I might not like them to have it.
  • There are a very few people I really don’t want reading this, but I’ve got that issue about excluding people, which is a dilemma.
  • On the upside, I enjoy writing and if I had a blog, it might motivate me to write more. That could be a good thing.  And cheaper than therapy.

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