It's been going on since June, at least. I haven't felt like blogging, and when I do publish something, I don't feel enthusiastic about it. I don't want to proof-read it, and most of the time, I don't even want to tell anyone about it.
Part of it, in the beginning at least, was the weather. I absolutely, positively can't stand the heat -- it turns me into a zombie, complete with moaning and groaning and lurching around. Part of it's stress. But the biggest part of it is that I'm in a huge rut -- one I've painstakingly dug by hand and jumped head first into -- and I can't seem to get out of it.
And you know what? Lately, I've been wondering if I'm meant to be a blogger. Here's why.
Do you have a reservation?
I've heard over and over again that the secret to being a decent blogger is... I guess selective vulnerability is the term. You have to be genuine. To be willing to expose yourself (not like that, perv!). To let readers get to know the real you. And the real you has to come in this neat little package. Quirky, maybe a little chaotic, but still contained.
It's like the blogosphere is this this big party, and everyone's wearing fancy clothing. Finely tailored outfits, matched with the perfect shoes and bags and jewelry, to create a cohesive, but distinctive, look. And here I am in the corner, in this beige trench coat. And maybe a sleeve or the hem of a skirt shows, or maybe a crazy and colorful necklace peeks out, but that's it.
These limitations sure are comfy.
And I don't want to take that coat off. Because it has been my protection for decades. And even though I can't move in it, and sometimes I can't breathe in it, it's safe, damn it. And I don't want anyone to know that underneath, I'm wearing zebra print leggings, a plaid skirt, a baggy old sweatshirt that may or may not have lentil soup stains all over it, and mismatched socks with holes in the bottom.
And maybe they're right -- there are plenty of times when I think they are. And maybe I'll never meet the standards that professional, big name bloggers have set -- I'm just not sure I have the ability to connect with people on a deep level, no matter how much I care. Because even though I want to reach people, inspire people, help people? I want that trench coat just as much.
Or maybe I can change. Shed that coat, button by button. Starting with Truthful Tuesday, and working my way from there. That sounds kind of great, and kind of (very) scary. If only I can learn to cope with the fact that not everyone at the party is going to approve of what I'm wearing... and some of them will suggest I put on that nice beige coat again. It's happened enough in real life that I know just how likely that is.
Here's what I'm wondering...
Usually I can come up with some kind of conclusion, some neat way of wrapping things up. But this is a situation where I just don't have enough experience, enough data, to do that. And so I'll ask you:
How much of yourself do you put into blogging, and into your life (online and offline) in general? How often do you feel like you need to pretend? And how do you deal with with people in your life, whether they're strangers or loved ones, who want to stuff you back into the beige coat?
And a bonus question... is there anything keeping you from blogging?
Thanks for your time and comments, and thanks for putting up with my blogging experiment.
Sarah J. Sequins