This is Still New.

 

Dearest Internet,

Some of you who read this space are my true, honest-to-goodness friends, and I appreciate you being here to read, and hopefully laugh/cry/think right along with me.

I have no delusions that this space doesn’t see as much traffic as it once did – namely when blogging was much newer than it is now and my life was truly an open book, and also in shambles, due to post-partum depression. This blog has seen me grow from someone who was angry at her lack of a childhood, to a mother who didn’t know why she was angry & sad after having her babies, to someone who has essentially grown up and kept more things close to her chest than written on the walls of this blog, as of late. I used to tell all, and now I tell next to nothing. I have 305 published posts on this blog, and 1127 drafts. 1127! Tell me who’s afraid to blog! Yup, me.

Some people still have an impression of me that is several years old. Some people were only first introduced to me because of this post, which got way more attention than I ever expected. My integrity at that point was the same as it is today: intact and solid. I read that post today, and I am still proud that I spoke out against something that had happened to me and other women – some of whom were more vulnerable than I was. I spoke out for woman who did not feel they had a voice. It’s not different to me, than when I called Children’s Aid on my biological mother. It was the same thing, in my eyes, and yet, as people do online, they tore apart my intentions, they made assumptions, and they made up lies. I stayed away from the words that were written about me, until months later, and then I read them all. I read as friends came to my defense, and as much as the 25 year old me would have been hurt by some of the lies that were posted, what I took away from reading it all was that I have some really great friends.

There are two things that made me upset about the situation: one was that an acquaintance spread rumours, which were quickly squashed by the people that cared about me. I blocked this person on every social media site we were connected on, and called it a day. My general philosophy about people is that if they’re talking about you in such way, there’s no reason to pursue friendship like that. Her loss.

Another thing that ticked me off is that I got a form letter apology from the offender, that several of my friends got as well. Identical, verbatim apologies. I never answered it. I understand that these types of apologies are part of the offender’s healing process, and truly he doesn’t need my forgiveness.  He had it long ago, probably mere weeks after I wrote that post.

I am nobody’s victim.

I never shared my forgiveness with him, because that forgiveness? It’s for me, for my heart, for my preservation and sanity. As for his apology? I can only say that if it was a true apology, it would have been sincerely written. Sending the exact same apology to every person he felt was involved not only proves to me that it isn’t sincere, but that his motives for doing so were based on some sort of step-program for therapy, and possibly to get back in the good graces of our blogging community so he may one day return. Hey – return now. Go for it. There’s room for everybody, and nobody is stopping you. My apathy overflowth.

Enough about that.

The rumblings I have seen of late about another dadblogger have been disturbing. I will not claim to know every detail, but basically Single Dad Laughing has got a bunch of people upset, because he’s embellished his stories, painting himself in a light that isn’t exactly true, according to other bloggers. There are holes in his stories, and I’ve skimmed several blog posts where people are tearing him apart.  So much so, they’ve googled into his past, his jobs, records, and the like, and for what?

I’ve seen several posts (and wrote my own) on Twitter & Facebook just kinda eye-rolling on the constant barrage of posts about SDL.  It’s exhausting. It’s just that I am tired of seeing this SDL guy, whoever he is, ripped apart in our community.  He hasn’t really done anything to harm anyone else.  Sure, his stories are colourful and he seems to be building his brand more aggressively than some of us who are content with writing what we want, when we want.

What’s the harm in that? So what if people are flocking to his blog? Don’t people read several news sources? Don’t people read more than one book? What’s the harm if I want to read 50 Shades of Suck (I don’t), AND Jenny’s awesome book, AND reread something by Wally Lamb?

There’s enough community to go around. Believe me, I consume a lot of blogs in a week – and I’m sure lots of other people do too.

I just don’t understand the motive of people investigating this guy and writing blog post after blog post about how awful you think he is. He is a human being, a father, with children. He has feelings, just like I do.  I just wish people would remember there are actual people behind these blogs. I’m no fan of SDL, in fact, I’d never heard of him a couple of weeks ago, but he’s a person. Maybe I’m a little sensitive about my own prior situation even now, because when it all originally happened, there were some very hurtful things slung my way.

My days now include being kind to truly vulnerable people. There are really solid, passionate reasons why I chose to go back to school for nursing. I have learned so much about myself in the last 2 years, I can’t even begin to tell you. I have never been so happy, felt so alive and been so tingly about waking up at 4 a.m. to follow my dreams.  My priorities in life lie with family and friends. I don’t care about the same things that SDL cares about, as far as I know. What I do care about, and what I believe, is that we all need kindness in the world, and if this guy is following his heart, all the power to him.

This blogging thing?

This is still new.

Relatively speaking, blogging is still quite fresh. The majority of my friends do not blog. The majority of my nursing class have no idea that I do. Blogging is what? 8 years old, at most? Maybe a bit longer for you die hards, but still. Younger than a middle schooler. You know the judgement of a middle schooler? That’s blogging. We’re navigating territory that no one has ever explored before, awkwardly growing, and limbs everywhere, and pimples and braces, and just when you think every blog post has been written, someone comes along and blows your mind – almost weekly.

These spaces we’ve created have granted us the opportunity to share our stories, and oh what stories we’ve told!  We’ve traveled, met celebrities, gotten to work one-on-one with companies that trusted us with giving unbiased opinions on their products. We are essentially, representing our entire community in everything we do. Can we be a bit more professional about it? Please?

We don’t always agree on how it should be done. I don’t expect us to. We all have our ways of making our spaces on the internet our very own. There’s nothing you can truly compare blogging to. It’s not like running a store or writing a book, it’s as unique as our fingerprints on the keyboard.

When someone decides to do things a little differently, we notice. We form opinions, we share them, and sometimes, they aren’t favourable. That’s okay. I will say, it’s pretty scary writing like I did in Dear Internet Boys, and again today. I have hit publish on several posts that made my heart pound while writing them. You don’t think I worry about the ramifications of my biological mother showing up at my door with a shotgun in hand? You don’t think I am concerned that I will get to my dream job one day and an HR person will find this blog and have a sit-down with me? This is uncharted territory, and though I’ve pulled back the reins ohhh 1127 times – this space, this community has brought me more positive than negative over the years.

Give yourself a time out if you need to. There is nothing online that is worth this much animosity and heartache, especially when there’s so many positive things to be had.

You don’t have to agree with me, but I expect you to be kind when you’re in my house. Kapeesh?