(Wo)Man in the Mirror

For the past three years, in one way or another, my life has been chronicled here for all to see.  Sometimes it’s been a raw candid.  Other times, a polished portrait only showing what I think is okay to put forth.  But for better or for worse, I’ve turned my psyche inside out on the internet, and there’s no going back now.

In so many ways, this little digital illustration of ME is cathartic and wonderful (for me).  But in so many other ways, it’s confusing and damaging.  Like, first of all — when you’re so lost you don’t know your ass from your elbow, maybe looking at the numbers on your website or your twitter feed or whatever other measurable forms of friendship you’ve entrenched yourself in in an effort to figure out who the hell you are isn’t the best way to do that. Blogland is a place of metrics and it’s easy to get lost trying to figure out if people like you, and why they like you, and how come that post got all those comments and this one didn’t, and wait, do they like her better than me? …and who’s reading and why, and from where, and WHAT DO THEY WANT FROM ME!?  (The answer, fellow bloggers, is of course nothing. If you build it, they will come.)

If you’ve been reading for a while, then you know that these questions cause me personally to have a breakdown on a quarterly basis.

But in it’s best moments – blogging is about creating a history for me and my family.  Creating a journal, a field guide, that my daughter can look back on when she’s ready to dive head first into her own adulthood.  And perhaps the greatest part of blogging?  Bloggers.  Those people who love to share and are always willing to share just a little more if you ask them to.  They’re friends and teachers and co-conspirators, and I’m honored to be able to call myself a part of this community that succeeds based on the simple idea that all boats rise together.  And they do.

Do you have a blog?  I want to read it.

Feed Me Seymour