I was having a conversation with a fellow blogger, and even though we have never met, I do consider this person a friend, and we were talking about just how much to reveal, or do we reveal on our blogs. This is a dilemma I’m sure all bloggers face; especially ones that don’t hide behind a nickname or fake profile. Nothing wrong with doing that if it ensures your writing is what you want it to be. Nothing wrong with using a different screen name if you want to keep your writing secret from prying eyes either. But if you’re using a screen name just so you can poke fun at people and leave nasty comments behind your anonymity, well then, there’s a problem. But I’m not here to talk about the few people who do that.
So, how much do you reveal? Some people have no problems naming and shaming with their writing. Some people have no problems talking about how many orgasms they’ve had during the past week. To each his/her own. I will never put a limit on what people should write (although if you’re spouting hate speech you should probably just shut the fuck up now)! And if you limit what you write, why do you put limitations on it?
My blog is very much like me. Seriously, in every sense of the word. Usually off topic, no discernable direction, never really focused on one specific thing for an extended period of time either. I don’t believe in this “you only live once” mantra that people are spouting. You live a new life everyday if you so choose to. Get out, explore, try something new. Or possibly look at old things through different eyes. So use your many lives within one mortal one to expand. There, preachy part of the blog over. My blog is also like me in that it is unscripted, unfiltered, and unedited. I don’t edit my blog. I don’t care if there are mistakes here and there. When the mood takes me to write I do it. If I spent time editing it I would never publish anything. I live that way too. I’m very reactionary. I don’t plan too many things too far in advance. Big vacations, yes. Impromptu getaways, no. I go with the flow and do things that move me at the time.
And like my current residence in Dubai, my blog is also controlled. There are certain things I can’t do in Dubai that I could do at home. Or you can, you just have to be very careful about doing them so as not to offend anyone (or principally offend the wrong person who can then call the police and things could get messy). Because I know that friends and, more specifically, family read my blog, I am cognizant of what I want them to read or know. I use my name on this blog frequently. If you try and contact an email address from this blog it goes to my personal one. Nothing here is made up to hide my identity. And in case you were wondering … there aren’t a lot of people named Geraint Isitt out there. It’s not that difficult to find me, is what I’m saying.
While I fully believe we are all shaped by our past and the people we have encountered, I also fully believe that without their permission, I shouldn’t be revealing details about them that they might not want people to know. I’m reluctant to give names of exes or people I have dated. If I do talk about past events, dates, etc., I leave out names. Not because I don’t remember the names (although there may be a couple of occasions where the full details are blurry), it’s because I think people involved in my tales deserve some anonymity and respect. And I don’t see this as being counter-intuitive to the blogging or writing process.
I was undecided about whether or not I wanted my family to know about this blog. They had read other blogs of mine, from as far back as 2006; but this was a new venture for me to help me transition into a new phase of my life. I was also very reluctant to post links to my blog on Facebook. In fact, I’ve only done so once in all my time blogging here on WordPress. If I decide the blog is my medium to get me writing gigs in the future that will change. But as I currently just use the blog to get thoughts down, meet wonderful people from around the world (in a virtual way), and of course to get some much needed writing practice, I do not need to advertise my work. I’m not sure why I don’t. Maybe I will. It’s all very strange to me.
I am fortunate that my family is very understanding and has accepted my eccentricities and penchant for monumentally stupid decisions since day one. I am hard pressed to think of anything I could write about life growing up that would offend them or have them removing me from Christmas card lists. But I’m also sure I could try and probably succeed. But those stories aren’t about me. I don’t think they’d have a problem with me telling you about a potential threesome that I can’t remember. I don’t think they’d mind me telling you about how much I cried the day we had to put our dog down. My little sister cried that day too but she’ll admit it so I could mention her as well. But if I’m not centre stage in the story, I will not tell it.
So I will continue to write as normal and not advertise it as normal. My mum is now reading this blog because of the one-time promotion on Facebook. I’m sure she’ll love my recaps of past and future vacations … unless I do one of those sex tours in Thailand an old neighbor used to tell me about. Mum does not need to hear that.