I began blogging over two years ago. A childhood friend of mine (whom I haven't seen since childhood) found me (thank you, internet!) and we rekindled our friendship via email. We found that we still had tons in common. It was during a period in her life when her husband was transferred a lot and so she began a blog as a way to keep her friends and family updated on their life. I loved reading it. I mean, like, REALLY, loved reading it. And then I began to feel like our friendship was one sided...I knew all sorts of things about her and she only knew what I told her in scattered emails, so I began blogging. The majority of my family lives in Chicago and so I thought it would be a great way for them to check in on us. (I failed to take into consideration that my father doesn't really, ever, use the computer.) At first, I blogged infrequently (who doesn't start out that way???) and had 3 readers. At the time, Q was 2 months old, the girls had just started 1st grade, Chris and I were both working full time and we were both in grad school. My blog was mainly a record of my lack of sleep.
When I finished my degree, I vowed to be a more consistent blogger. And then when the new year came, I challenged myself to write everyday for the whole month of January...and then January became February and February became March and so on.
This is what I have noticed about blogging. I censor myself. I do not write about work (except maybe to mention when I am not working - summer - , or when book fair week is). I do not write about my husband without his permission. I do not write about people when they irritate me. I do not write about every aspect of my life. I write about what I want to share. Some days, its very easy for me to ignore the real issues in my life and only write about a dinner conversation, or a song on the radio. But doing so makes me feel like I am ignoring parts of my life...pushing them to the side...telling myself that they aren't blog worthy...not funny enough, too long to write, potentially controversial. (Even though its my blog, I find myself worried about offending people. And I want everyone to like me. I worry about what people think, its true.)
As I write, I often think about binding my posts for my children. All in all, this is a record of their childhoods. But then I worry that they will only be getting half the story. The censored half. But as a blogger, where is the line? The line of safety?
And the funny thing about all of this is that I am anti-censorship. Just in case you were wondering. I also don't eat meat off the bone. Ribs? Absolutely not. Fried Chicken? No, thank you.