I’ve been blogging, through one medium or another, since I was nineteen. That’s a solid 1/3 of my life sharing my thoughts. Prior to that, I wrote in a journal. I think I started writing about the inane goings-on of my warped brain as soon as I was old enough to grasp a pen, so that’s another twelve or so years of writing. What I’ve seen lately as I’ve read different blogs from different people is that certain topics are off-limits. Whether it be politics or religion, abortion or marriage, I’ve come across more than a handful that almost proudly state that they will never talk about those topics on their blogs because it’s a drama-free zone, or some similar statement.
While I can respect the idea that people just don’t wish to share their opinions (although I’m not even sure about that theory, because a blog is all about sharing opinions), and that it’s ultimately up to every one of us to decide what we want to share with the world, that’s not something I’ve ever subscribed to, whether on this blog or any of the previous ones. Perhaps it’s the lawyer in me, the opinionated narcissist that has a view on everything. Maybe it’s the crusader in me that seems to think I can shed light on injustice (don’t worry, I laughed at that too). Whatever it may be, the fact remains that, in my mind, the ickiest things are the things that need the most dialogue, and it’s the ickiest things that have the least commentary, at least as far as lifestyle blogs are concerned.
I mentioned being a narcissist above. I’m only halfway kidding, and that pains me a little to admit. That said, though, I’m not narcissistic enough to believe that anything I write about would change anyone’s heartfelt opinions on a certain topic, nor do I believe my writing would ever be far-reaching enough to make a legitimate difference. I can recognize what has become my niche: I write about my dreams of finding Sasquatch on a four-wheeler and that one time I got my tongue stuck in a bottle. 95% of the time, I write about fluffy things, because a great deal of the nature of my personality is, reluctantly said, shown through fluff and humor. I’m self-aware enough to recognize that.
The other side to me, though, is fiercely passionate about issues I hold dear, and I’d hate to think I’d shy away from sharing my thoughts on a particular topic because of some arbitrary, self-made rule that scares me into something less. I’m largely vocal in my personal life about marriage equality and women’s rights and problems with the compartmentalization of religion and politics, so it stands to reason that I’d talk about it from time to time here as well.I think I’m just rambling at this point. Or maybe I’m lubricating y’all for the posts that I have written that I just haven’t published. Let me be clear: I certainly don’t want to imply that everyone needs to write sweeping essays about the ongoing impact of the Rwandan genocide or how religion is failing American youth. I’m not saying that at all. Each and every one of us is different, and there is nothing wrong with not wanting to address topics that you aren’t comfortable with. I’m simply saying that if something has been put on your heart to share, maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to share it, in spite of it being light years away from your usual content. I’m speaking to those who want to talk about the icky things that don’t. I know that’s where I’m coming from, and what led me to write this entirely-too-long manifesto about it.
For me, I know that I have a drafts folder full of things that are the exact opposite of bar carts and peonies*, and it’s about damn time I woman up and publish them.
(*not that there is anything wrong with bar carts and peonies. I adore these things. I also love icky topics, though, and that is the point I’m attempting to make.)