Who’s Afraid of the Big Bad Blogger?

July 26, 2011 Douchebaggery

That was a poor wordplay on the big bad wolf, I know.

So recently I was reading my blogging friend’s Facebook page and she eluded to some drama with another blogger.  Somewhere along the way, people were like flies on poop to this woman’s blog and they weren’t very nice about it.  This isn’t the first time this has happened. I have no idea who is right in this particular situation and frankly, I don’t care.

In short, I’m far too uninterested in this senario to go read all the posts and comments – but I’ll tell you one thing: it’s stupid.  Just like every other stupid drama online.  I cannot believe the amount of time some people spend fueling these sorts of debates, and for what?  There is nothing meaningful that ever comes from these things. Nobody wins in the end. In fact, both parties end up feeling dejected and unheard.

First of all, if you are a ‘big time’ blogger (forgive the terminology I’m using here, I’m simply referring to what some perceive as popularity due to traffic, longevity in the community, income, the colour of one’s underwear – WHATEVER it is that you, dear reader, perceive as a big-time blogger – that’s who I’m referring to.), typically you’re known to generate mucho traffic to your blog with your content. Sometimes it’s because you write good (heh), or you’re a talented photographer, or you make hilarious videos that people seem to enjoy. Or all three.

Sometimes it’s because you’re a shit disturber.

Oh I know, that sounds harsh, but once upon a time – and you elderly bloggers can attest to this – I was a shit disturber. I was a depressed woman who spent her whole day online, while raising young children.  I wanted attention, traffic and money. And if I told you any different, I’d being lying my face off.

Now, I’m a more grown up version of myself and don’t care one lick about traffic or money. The attention? Yes please. I love comments & feedback. I won’t lie to you – isn’t that why some of us are motivated to share our lives online? Sure, I love to write. Sure, I love this community. Those are good reasons too but this isn’t about me.

Oh wait, it is for one second:

My worlds collided last night and my friends and family who weren’t already aware – found out about this blog, because of this. So far the response has been positive, but I’ll admit I barely slept last night, worrying about 18 million scenarios that could have gone wrong.  On the other hand, YAY! MORE ATTENTION!

Okay anyway.

This post isn’t really about big time vs. small time – it more of a wake up call for all bloggers, no matter where you think you are in the (horribly named because pecking=typing) pecking order.

Be nice.

That’s it. Be nice to everyone.* And if you can’t be nice to everyone, believe me, some of you really need a lesson in shutting your mouth.  Like, slam that sucker shut and watch what you’re saying to people about others.  People talk a whole lot, yanno. More than they need to, at times.

It’s okay to disagree about everything under the sun, absolutely. But be civil. And for goodness sake, please please please don’t type a horrible comment on someone’s blog, attacking someone you don’t even know just because your favorite blogger had a beef with them.  I liken that to the poor woman who was attacked because she LOOKED like Casey Anthony.  Chances are, you don’t know the whole story, and you end up with egg on your face in the end. Or arrested for assault and battery. And prison isn’t fun.

If you’re not sure, shut the computer for an hour or two. Go DO something. It’s kind of hard to blog about life when you’re merely a hunchbacked spectator to online monkey business.

That’s all. Go be with your loved ones. Go play. It’s nice outside.

* my only exception is when someone is attacking you. it’s 100% acceptable to defend yourself.

Day 4: Something You Have To Forgive Someone For

November 1, 2010 30 Days of Truth,Douchebaggery,Me, Unplugged

This one was a tough one. When I first started this 30 Days of Truth exercise, I thought about my parents and how I’d already forgiven them.  I thought about friends who had come and gone for whatever reasons and how I’d already forgiven them too. I even thought about this guy and how he had violated trust he purposely established for his own manipulation and decided I wasn’t angry enough to really need to forgive him, although I do forgive him.  Clearly he needs professional help and I hope he gets it.

During some of the reaction to yesterday’s post, I received some harsh feedback on how the women in my situation and I should have handled things. To be specific, the feedback included the fact that we all should have handled things sooner.  Further to that, the way I handled things yesterday was wrong.  Did you know that? I handled this entire situation wrong and it was my responsibility to:

a) handle it 3 years ago when I was a horrible mess;

b) handle it publicly by naming the culprit by his first and last name;

c) handle it privately by emailing his wife directly;

d) involve the authorities;

e) post his picture and communication on a public space like my blog;

f) somehow already know there were other women over the last 3 years, using my super powers;

g) get over myself and continue to ignore him because it was only a little harassment and boys will be boys.

The list is growing on just how wrongly I handled this situation. I’m okay with that.

Here we are, at the end of the day and *I* know I did the right thing.

My critics, however, did not show me or any other woman compassion when they judged for themselves, sans details, just how we should have handled ourselves in our various complicated and delicate situations.  It shocked me yesterday how many women woke up yesterday morning with no knowledge of this and yet, quickly became experts on how the whole thing should have gone down.  And the misinformation based on assumption? Amazing!

To them I say: I hope you never find yourself taken advantage of, especially if you are ever in a fragile state.  I hope no one ever gently & delicately helps you up when you’re down, only to get close to you and push you down again.

I forgive you. I forgive your ignorance of the details. I forgive your audacity. I forgive your crass manner in which you joked off the pain of other women. I forgive you for your lack of compassion and your ability to sting with your words.  I forgive your creation of fake Twitter accounts, your nasty emails, and the fact that I cried twice yesterday, not totally for myself, but also for some of the women you were hurting with your antics.

I was told to ignore you.  My friends told me to just ignore you; that you would stop; that you would get bored and move on.  But I couldn’t, because there’s more than just me involved here.  You’re hurting women that came forward when they too were scared or ashamed.

So this is me, completely vulnerable, palms out, standing before you, forgiving you for the role you played today. My hope is that you will find compassion and embrace it.

I forgive you.

Dear Internet Boys,

October 31, 2010 Douchebaggery

Sit down.

We need to have a chat.

We welcome your opinions.  You are sweet to us, have great insight, and help us to understand you and your views on how the world operates.  Most of you are that way and we love the way you love your family, and most especially, your wives.  We love being friends with guys who are good husbands.  We love being friends with guys who are Good People.  We love being friends with guys who respect us.

Some of us (you included) have had growing pains over the years, some of them made public by blogging and Twitter, and you know what?  We ALL make mistakes, and that is OKAY.  We’re human.

I’m really really big on forgiveness.  I think I’ve managed to patch up nearly every situation where I didn’t feel the option of walking away was favourable.  In some cases, I did walk away, and that is only because some people are so malicious, toxic and vile, that there is no choice but to walk away out of pure self-preservation.

In one case, however, I have walked away quietly, but I have a shadow.  This shadow never publicly acknowledges my existence, but privately sends me messages of flirtation and has tried to become my friend despite my chronic ignorance of him.

Anyone who knows me in any capacity, knows that I am 3000% deeply, madly wholeheartedly in love with my husband.  There is no other man in the entire world that could ever top him in any way possible.  I was lucky enough to find the man of my dreams, marry him quick before he got away, only to later find out that he is the most special person in the world and a perfect fit for me.  He is my my rock, my soul mate and my best friend.  He is the one who I turn to in times of joy or sorrow.  He is the one who has held my hand through Hell and back.  He is The One.

That’s pretty clear, right?

So when The One hears from his lovely wife that someone is privately messaging her in such a way that He Who Checks His Email Once a Month is considering a “Fuckin’ Twitter Account,” be wary about messaging The One’s wife again.  EVER.

He trusts me.  He trusts that I do not engage in activity that would make him question me.  He is right to trust me.  He trusts me to be good friends with men who also love their wives the way he loves me. He knows that guys and girls can be friends.  He is not the jealous type, nor does he lose his shit when another guy looks my way or even flirts with me or vice versa.  But there is a line, and since that line was crossed at some point by one or more of the Internet Boys, be warned that he knows who you are, he has access to anything he wants to read in my accounts and while he honestly doesn’t care about who is doing what with anyone else, if you are harrassing me in such a way that makes ME feel uncomfortable, there will be a problem.

So, dear Internet Boy who has preyed upon at least 25+of my friends under the guise of knowing OH SO MUCH about mental illness and depression, I hope you understand that a) us girls talk and we ALL know you’re a total douchebag creeper; b) no, we do not want pictures of your penis and c) CUT IT THE FUCK OUT.

Sincerely,

The Women of The Internet