When I first started this adventure a few months ago I basically only told my friends about my blog. I suppose because I have had friends traveling with me through different stages of my life I am closest and most vulnerable with them.
I have always had an average, at times rocky, at times peaceful, not especially intimate relationship with my family. I have always been a bit paranoid about appearing on top of everything, successful, poised and together in front of my family. Perhaps to evade questions, perhaps to keep a distance, perhaps because of some childhood desire to do everything perfectly.
I know I’ve taken a different route to do many things in my life and I’m not sure I really care about their opinion, but it’s easier sometimes to not hear the opinion you fear. I know my opinions about many things contradict those of my parents and my family in general. I also feel that our life experiences are very different, and that the opinions of youth are generally discredited because they come from youth. As I have grown up I have sometimes been too outspoken and ended up hurt, so I sometimes try to lay low, stay quiet, even though I hate that feeling. I am not trying to say that I have felt especially put down or that somehow my life experiences have been more worthwhile or more alive and real than anyone else’s, I am just fumbling towards my confused thoughts about family.
All this rambling to say that on some level I didn’t tell my family about my blog because I wasn’t quite sure if it would be acceptable to them. I wasn’t sure how it was going to be, what I would write about, what sort of things I would share, if I would even keep it up. I know my family loves me and supports me, but keeping an online journal makes a person so vulnerable. Now that my little subconsciously kept secret is out in the open, I know I have to strive to write with the same honesty, clarity and reality.
You see, I’m starting to think of myself a little bit as a writer. At work I have become a person people frequently tell their live stories too and I imagine how I would frame them in an article. Whenever I am alone, driving usually or walking somewhere or watching people at a coffee shop or listening to NPR or music, I am thinking about things I could write about. I am thinking about stories of real people, things I might like to research, my own life or friend’s lives, how to capture it with words for others to comprehend. And right now this blog is my outlet. I have no idea if my writing will ever be anything to anybody; for now it’s just something for me, and I guess as many of my friends, family and acquaintances who can stand to read it.