They say you never know exactly what's going on in anyone else's life. You see only as much as you are allowed to see, and of that, only what you choose to see. I am a prime example of that. I know it. I don't believe the internet is the place for everything, at least not *my* everything. (Or, now that I am permanently part of a "we," *our* everything.) Social media and the blogosphere are often not the places where I choose to bare my soul.
The line of what we share on the internet is hazy. We all have our limits. Some of us use pseudonyms. Some of us won't post photos with faces. And some of us bare all, no topic off limits. I struggle with this, because I want to be authentic. I want what I "put out there" to be a true picture of me. I am genuine, in my "real life," and I am not ok with being less than that digitally. But on the other side, I don't feel every corner of my life is open for inspection and discussion and outside opinion.
The more I ponder this, the more I realize that this *is* the authentic me. Even in my face-to-face interactions, I pick and choose what is revealed. There are some things that aren't meant for work. Others that are meant only for my immediate circle of People. There are some things that I divulge to only one or two individuals, on a case-by-case basis, which I weigh every time I have the opportunity to either tell or stay close-lipped. Some things are fair game and they make it here (or onto Twitter or Facebook or where ever they best lend themselves), but much of it isn't. And it isn't because I am afraid to show my full life. I am not embarrassed nor do I feel I have something to hide. I just don't feel like all of me is available for public consumption.
And so I walk a fine line.
I read a quote, a while back, by the radio host Delilah: "Too many people are afraid of exposure. But the more transparent you are, the more you give others permission to be open right back." That is certainly an environment I was to create for myself. (Well, within reason -- I don't want that, say, at work, or in the company of an over-sharer, and I do firmly believe there is a time and a place for everything.) (I offer no apology; I am a Libra, through and through, and to everything there must be balance.) I am not afraid of exposure. I will open up when it is fitting, whether the conversation or the company lends itself to sharing, or because I feel particularly driven to do so unbidden. I am guardedly transparent though, and I have thought long and hard about why this is.
An even longer while ago, I read another quote, in a magazine interview with Nicole Kidman, who said: "I would never write a memoir. There are things that happen behind closed doors, and that's where they belong. I'm not secretive. I'm protective." This is me. I *am* protective: of my heart and my vulnerability, of the precious moments I share with those most dear to me, of my deepest thoughts and feelings. They are not secrets, they are just *mine*. And many of them deserve the respect of being treasured or revealed only privately or in very limited company.
It's not that my life is perfect -- although, to be fair, it's pretty darn awesome, and that is no sugar-coated fairy tale woven for the eyes of the internet -- or that I need anyone to think that it is. In fact, my life has its challenges and disappointments, just like yours, just like everyone's. It isn't just the hard days or the bad moods or the complaints that don't make it here. There are beautiful, joy-filled, amazing moments that exist solely in my undocumented life as well. Not because they aren't worthy of this place, but because I don't wish to put them here.
In fact, my life looks much like this blog: far more good than not, with a little "reality" sprinkled in. Which is maybe all the barometer I ever need to feel I'm being true to myself in what I share here: Is this place truly a microcosm of the life I lead? Because no life can be fully encapsulated in so many pixels and characters spilling out of a blinking cursor. All you ever get is a little slice.
It's been quiet here the past couple of weeks. I've been a little introspective. I've been pondering and feeling...and living. That doesn't translate well to written form, except in near radio silence. At the risk of being considered one of those people who comes off as teasing with details they don't intend to share -- because there are details and I don't intend to share them, let's just be up front about that right now -- I've learned something about myself over these quieter days. I've learned that I am strong, that my mind and my heart and my marriage are healthy and thriving. I feel still, at peace, unshaken. There were once darker days when I wondered if I would ever be this person, and here I am.
If all of this has you wondering what's going on and if I am ok, the simple truth is: yes, yes I am. Sometimes, that's all there is to say.
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