My dear blogger, what are you so afraid of?
Are you afraid of hitting publish? Ask me how I know?
I know, because half of my draft posts are getting real on what it’s like to be a caregiver. An around the clock, with barely any outside help elderly caregiver.
I’m afraid of speaking up and being funny about it. Afraid of the blue-haired lady brigade wagging their finger at me for not sounding very compassionate in the face of dementia.
By the way, my grandma doesn’t have blue hair. In fact, it’s shoe polish black. But she is an expert finger-wagger. She also calls the computer a calculator, so I probably have no worries there. She also has dementia and it sucks a thousand one ways. I can’t wait to tell you all about it. 🙂
Not real sure what my family will think either. Especially since so far they don’t even know I have a blog. At least on my grandma’s side. You know the ones that should be helping. Oh sorry, that’s not why you’re here.
I am still new to blogging, but I’ve been wondering. What if the posts we are so afraid of writing. So afraid of publishing, are the ones that people need the most?
Are we holding ourselves back from helping someone else because we are too scared to push the limits?
You know, those dark little parts of your brain and heart that whisper to you. All your shortcomings and unloveable thoughts. The moments you know spite, fear, and hate. The kind that you bottle up. Pretend you don’t feel because you think if you really are a good person you wouldn’t feel that way.
Those feelings that shame you like regret, guilt, ungratefulness and resentment. The feelings you are afraid if you acknowledge them and let out of the cage won’t go back into hiding.
The feelings might stay on the outside and people will know. People will judge you and won’t believe you are nice. They won’t believe you love your kids when you admit how much you don’t love the everyday struggle of parenting.
They will think you have ulterior motives for keeping on when you are tired of caregiving.
They won’t believe you are dependable when you want to change careers again.
They won’t think you are responsible when you say you are failing at life, that this adulting shit is hard.
Why are we so afraid of rejection, of offending, so afraid to let our pain show, to let our human side show?
If we want to be bloggers. If we want to be writers. If we want to make a difference. We need to allow people to relate to our human experiences. The real ones. Not the ones people see on social media. Not the dramatic whining or the fake winning. If we don’t, how can we begin to offer hope to others or receive it in return?
Let’s think about it. What would happen if we really did write those posts? Did hit publish. What if people didn’t like us? What then?
What if instead, they respected us? Not because they agree with what we said. But because we are real. We are human like them. We feel the same ugly thoughts they do.
My husband is known for being very outspoken. He doesn’t care what people think about him or say about him, (as long as it isn’t a lie, he has a pet peeve about that).
He makes people uncomfortable sometimes. Is he kidding? Is he being sarcastic? Is he a jerk? Maybe. But how about just honest?
Society is so used to people being fake that they don’t know how to handle it when someone is their genuine, authentic self. He should own a shirt with the saying I saw on Pinterest today:
“I am 97% sure you don’t like me, and 100% sure I don’t care.”
I wish I could be that way. My generation, girls especially, were taught to be “nice”. Nice is okay, but it sure is exhausting sometimes.
This blog, Pardon Me My Crown Slipped, is hopefully helping me to become my authentic self. To be able to write the hard “stuff” to say the hard “stuff” not just for me, but for you too.
This is something I wanted to bring to my writing. Not to be afraid to say something just because I am afraid someone won’t like me. Or to imagine I am the only one feeling the way I do.
I recently read this post on The Cheerio Trail
I stumbled onto her post through Pinterest, drawn by the title. Her site was new to me. Christi Gee’s blog is to inspire and encourage others using her experiences in life and through scripture.
Although I grew up Catholic, formal religion wasn’t part of my everyday life. It was for my husband, but we don’t practice formally. We don’t read scripture. We don’t attend church. We don’t believe in creationism. However, we do have faith. Despite all of our differences, Christi’s post inspired this post. She mentions in the comments that she almost trashed it!
When I came across her post, it was 5 o’clock in the morning, house still dark. I had just sent my husband off for another 16 hour day as a steel worker. I sat in the glow of the computer with my coffee, scrolling my Pinterest feed.
Glad to have quiet before my three kids get up, before my 86-year old grandma gets up. Now with older kids and home school these are my only moments alone.
A dessert recipe. A yard project. Yet another mason jar craft. *Yawn.* More repurposed pallets.
Then I see it. 5 Things I wish Another Mom Had Said to Me.
At first I think, I have seen those posts before, take care of yourself, enjoy every moment, nap when the baby naps, yada, yada, yada. (so true, yet gone by) 🙂 🙁
I think, I have no more babies. These posts always seem to be for new moms. It won’t have anything to do with me. Something made me link over anyway.
From the first words, I was hooked. I was nearly gripping my seat. I might even have been holding my breath. I am pretty sure I didn’t blink and by the end I was near tears. You don’t know me yet, but I am not a crier, like almost never.
If I didn’t know better I would think it was written to me personally. It was what I needed to hear right then. It didn’t just speak to me as a mom, but I could apply it to caregiving too. To think she almost trashed the post. She thought no one would relate. It turns out it is her most read post. Her comment section is gushing with praise and thanks.
If you are a blog writer it’s what you are hoping for. Shouldn’t we be hoping for the same as a human being.
So here I sit, one week after I wrote everything you just read. Then this happened. Yesterday. I read another post that again was talking to me!