Censoring Myself

I started this blog so I could write freely, about everything I needed to write about, about all the things that make me feel sad or angry or lost. And while mostly I have been able to do that, after reading Izzy’s post, I know that I haven’t. Especially after reading that post, since that is the subject I censor myself most on, but also because there have been several others in my inbox and reader this week relating in some way to self-censorship, whether it be on a blog or in real life.

I know everything I publish is going straight to Ian’s inbox, and that’s good and bad. Sometimes I post while he’s at work or asleep, and I wait for the response that never comes. Ian, I’m not criticizing, because I know I’m not asking for a response. But I’m asking now. You know when I need to hear what you think about a post. And you know the parts that I need to know your perception of when I ramble. They’re mostly the parts that you never bring up.

Other times, well, nobody gets to read, because I don’t want to upset Ian. I do say some of the things that I know will upset him, and maybe even more now that I know no one’s going to stumble across them, but there’s a lot I still just keep inside.

I know I censored a lot on Where Do We Go From Here? because it wasn’t private. I never publicized to my real life friends that I had a new blog, but if someone had asked I would have told them. I thought I wouldn’t have to worry about it since I don’t seem to associate with too many people who use twitter. Well, I have a whole post written up about my feelings on the whole ‘April has a blog’ concern.

I always had the thought in the back of my mind, ‘would this be okay in court?’ and yeah, if someone wants to read those 203 posts aloud in open court, let them have at it. It’s because of all the things I wanted to say and didn’t that I’d be okay with that.

But I do want to say now. I want to say all the things that I keep to myself until I’m blue in the face. And yet…I don’t. I want to move all those posts here when we’re done and open myself back up to a whole Internet of criticism. And yet…I don’t.

I wouldn’t dare, of course. That would be like eating boogers in public. I’ve started saying more of what I need to get out, but that doesn’t mean that’s the face I want to put on to show the world every day. Maybe it’s more like what Mo said about being a train wreck. This isn’t all there is to me, and I don’t want to be measured as if it were.