I constantly censor what I write on my blog. I guess I was always taught (by being shown) to care what others thought. I was taught to behave and be respectable and respectful. I worked at a Christian school where I was taught to be a role model, how to dress and act, and how to speak. Despite all of this, I was also taught to think for myself and make my own decisions. My parents’ number one goal in raising me, I believe, was to teach me how to think for myself. I believe they succeeded.
I had left her a brief comment, but expanding upon that comment has been bubbling through my brain for hours.
Being considerate of who is reading your blog is not necessarily a BAD thing, per se. When I write entries, I have a general idea of who I’m writing to, and why. That consideration is what gives me focus when I’m writing; without it, this blog would quickly denigrate into a whining “why me” fest of epic proportions. Nobody wants to listen to me whine, I don’t particularly enjoy BEING whiny, and getting un-slumped is not easily done. It really is best for me to just not.go.there. CARING about what you’ve written is not a bad thing when you remember that Google Is Forever.
In my comment on her blog, I mentioned that I take advantage of the “save as draft” option constantly. It is an opportunity for me to get it all out, then sit back and consider what I wrote. The Letter to my Teenaged Daughter would read VERY differently had I posted the original “temper tantrum”. To say that I was incredibly pissed when I wrote that would be an understatement, but spewing profanities would not only detract from the actual message, it would probably have a close friend or two concerned enough to warrant a visit, a phone call, what-have-you.
She also says:
Why is it so unbearably hard for me to be myself all of the time? Especially with my blog posts.
With the above thoughts in mind, I’d like to make the argument that you ARE being yourself, Courtney. As am I. Adjusting your message to fit the audience in mind is not a bad thing. You wouldn’t talk to me the same way you would a toddler, nor is it the same way you’d address your husband, or my Teenaged Daughter.