So I did something last year that I am ashamed of. I did something that breaks my heart when I
think about it. Yes, I, MJ made a
mistake. I reluctantly did something I am still regretting to this day. I deleted my work. My writing, that is. For this very blog. I made a decision based on love and a warped sense of loyalty to someone other than myself. I thought I was okay with the choice that was (reluctantly) made at the time, until I was recently re-telling the story and started bawling my eyes out.
I posted a lamentation about the pains of double dating. I expressed how in most double dates, two
friends want to get together and expect the “dates” to instantly fall in
love. Sometimes it happens, in the
particular case I was referring to, it did not.
The post was dated and the incident itself happened in 2012. My boyfriend at the time was uncomfortable
with what I wrote and how it might affect his friend’s feelings or their
friendship. He felt that although I was
speaking the truth (the girl was socially awkward and a complete bore!) it may reflect badly on
him. I offered to delete the post
because I wanted to avoid hurting or upsetting him. I later talked to my best friend, who provided
similar advice. He felt that if I want
to write something that could possibly upset others, I might consider just
journaling my thoughts privately. I took this
into account as well. I felt shaky about
deleting the post, but felt that it was the "right thing" to do. But it felt so wrong. I am pissed off because I have no record of
the post. I completely deleted it from
my life.
Here is my issue: I have done something for the sake of others
and their feelings, when all the while, my feelings were not being
considered. And for what?! Neither of the couples are even still
together! I have decided to train myself
in being more direct and authentic in my feelings and beliefs. This includes being true to my craft. It may not fit everyone’s fancy, but in the
words of Erykah Badu (who celebrates a birthday today), “keep in mind that I’m
an artist, and I’m sensitive about my shit”!
One of my main goals this year is to continue to discover and in essence
heal myself. What I have learned thus far
is I am a natural nurturer. I am a
caretaker. I try to please and not rock
the boat. In the process, however, I have found
my boat sometimes has water seeping in.
I have been secretly and subconsciously harboring my true feelings about deleting the
post, until last Saturday when I retold the story to a virtual stranger. I was so very upset. I write because I enjoy it, because it is a
necessity- because I have a lot to say.
I deleted my work to pacify someone I am not even with today. I did it so he would not upset someone
else. All along, no one worried or cared
about my feelings.
This blog has
alienated me from “friends”. I have been
talked about because of it. I am pretty
sure that a certain someone who is no longer my friend, still reads and keeps up with it. What the what!!?? I think it’s good, but not good enough to
read if you do not like the person who creates it.
I have been subtle and concerned. I have hemmed and hawed about clicking the “publish”
button. I have a whole shitload of
content I want to release that’s floating in my head. All I keep thinking is, what if this person reads it?
Or what is so-and-so going to think? There are thousands of blogs available. There are blogs about style, decorating,
comedy, hell, I know of one solely dedicated to Bloody Mary drinks. There is enough to write about. There is enough to read. Find one that suits you best. My blog is mine. I created it. I create
the majority of it’s content. It is my
baby. My love. My outlet.
One of my 2014 goals is to be my most authentic self. My initial fear was, in being this person, in
being me, I might offend others. That’s
no longer my problem. It’s yours.
