If you’ve been reading this blog for a while now, you’d know I’m quite an open person here. I wouldn’t even say in person more than half the things I’d say or have said here, but I’m ever ready to share here. Actually, there are some things which I’ve said here that I’m not proud to say, especially personal posts which I disallow comments. However, I felt that:
1. this is my space and so I have the right to say what I want to here (come what consequences may);
2. I need to get the negative emotions out of my chest;
3. it feels as if I’ve let it out to someone by writing, even if it’s only for myself – but I have indeed let them out to people who read my blog and those who felt compelled enough to respond wrote to me about it, an effort I really appreciate; and
4. I’ve never felt there was someone I could go to about issues of the heart.
Why don’t I have someone like that to go to?
In person, it takes me a long time to open up. To me, my personal issues are extremely private (hence the reason I don’t share my blog with most people in my life) and if I choose to divulge such information with you, it’s because:
1. I trust you; and
2. you’ve shown interest in knowing me better.
The blog is obviously an exception, since I can’t determine who exactly reads my blog. I always kid myself that only the people who comment regularly here are the only ones who are actually interested in the goings-on of my life. The truth is that my family could be reading it and I’d have no idea. Not Dee or M, who are not computer savvy, but other family members. Or even friends who know me in real life and somehow stumbled upon my blog. I don’t know.
Now, I can’t say trust issues are the reason for being so private in person. I generally trust people to the point of naivete. Of course I have a sceptic bone, but most of the time I give people the benefit of the doubt because I’d like to be treated the same way by others. It’s the interest shown by people, or rather the lack thereof, that makes me clam up.
It’s easy to bare all in my blog because this is my space. It’s like being naked in your room. Well, not quite like that, but you get what I mean. In my blog, I do what I want and it’s only for me. I derive pleasure and happiness in comments, but only because I allow them. Ultimately, I blog for myself.
Opening up to people is a different ballgame altogether. When I reveal my personal side, I don’t do it just for emotional release. I do it for bonding purposes. I expect curiosity, concern, reaction, sympathy, empathy, advice, encouragement, the whole nine yards. I don’t expect my problem to be solved, but I like knowing that the person I choose to confide to is thinking about me and hoping for the best for me.
I like it even better when the person asks about an update of that issue in my life. My rule of thumb when it comes to revealing personal information is that if you don’t show interest, it’s simply because you are not interested. So, I have no personal information for people who are not interested in me. I’m not saying I expect strangers to ask me personal questions from the get go; I suppose you’d know if it’s an appropriate question to ask if you feel a connection with me.
That’s why I’m so open here in my blog. Not everybody who reads about my life shows interest, but the ones that do encourage me. They make me want to be better, happier. They help me find the path I stray from. They show me a different perspective in a kind and supportive manner.
So, what do I think of readers who read about my innermost thoughts, my deepest secrets, my random navel-gazing twitter without so much of a peep? Do they care about me? Do they not care about me?
I don’t know. I can’t say they don’t on the basis that I don’t know, and yet I can’t say they do ‘cos I really don’t know. All I know is, I only realise that you care when you show it.