Does anyone else remember the old tv show called “You Can’t Do That on Television”? It was a sketch comedy show that ran on Nickelodeon when we were growing up. It was funny, but the big draw was always when certain words were uttered, suddenly a big bucket of green slime was dumped on the person’s head.
I haven’t watched the show in years, but I was reminded of it tonight when it was pointed out to me, not even remotely close to the first time, how I tend to say things on my blog that a lot of people don’t. I don’t sugarcoat, and I say things that a lot of people feel are too personal to talk about in public.
What sort of things? I have talked about my sex life on my blog. I have talked, in detail, about my depression, and being on medication for that when it got bad. I admitted that being a mother can be rediculously hard at times. I talked about my affair. I talked about my divorce. I even talked about my suicide attempt.
All great big no-no’s. Bad Sara! Bad! And I have been chastized for it, sometimes rather harshly.
That level of honesty, that disclosure of ‘personal’ things, the “airing of dirty laundry” I was told, is just not acceptable. (Getting those comments are like the bucket of green slime to the head. No warning, no shielding yourself.)
To them I say, “Why the fuck not?”
Why is it so bad to not hide what goes on in my life? What is so terrible about being honest?
I don’t think people who come to my site are under any illusions about me. They generally know me already, either through the blogosphere, or through Twitter or Facebook or some other social medium. I’m no different there than I am here. A bit lighter, and obviously easier on the details, but overall, still the same omg-did-she-really-just-say-that chick who loves a good laugh and hates the pretentious bullshit that accompanies the whole ‘politically correct’ attitude so many carry.
I can always be counted on to be that person who says what everyone else is thinking, but no one has the guts to actually say. And I have been told that. Often.
No one’s lives are perfect. One of my biggest critics has a far from happy homelife. I’m not going into details, but lets just say in that house, more than a couple of the seven deadly sins have been covered, and leave it at that. But they work hard to make sure no one knows anything ever goes wrong there. It wouldn’t be right, people shouldn’t air their dirty laundry in public.
Maybe that works for them. Who am I to judge? Actually as often as I’ve heard that in the last three years, it clearly works for a lot of people.
Unfortunately, I’m not ‘a lot of people’, and it doesn’t work for me.
I’ve said before and I’ll say again, blogging is therapy for me. Being able to vent what I am feeling, and getting the return feedback that people understand..it’s priceless. Even more gratifying is the chance to help others who are feeling the same way, but are glad to find out they are not the only ones going through it. So often people don’t get that, because no one wants to talk about it.
If the price for making those connections and being true to myself is the proverbial bucket of slime to the head from time to time, I’m ok with that. I’ve dealt with far worse shit in my life than an occasional bit of criticism, and I’m still here, and still kicking ass along the way.