Daddy’s Little Girl Loves Crisco
Sometime around Christmas (hell, maybe it WAS Christmas, my swiss cheese like brain cannot remember such details), I casually let it slip that I write almost every day to my father. It had come up in some sort of conversation, and as the words flew from my mouth, I immediately began to hope that no one was listening to me (for once. Normally I expect people to hang off of my every word).
Of course, he heard me and asked if he could read some of what I write.
I use the phrase “write” in a completely different manner than he would have expected from me. To me, a writer would sit at an antique typewriter next to a ream of paper and a pack of cigarettes, and sip cold coffee while he/she penned their memoirs. Although I have noticed that some bloggers receive book deals based on their blogs, I am certain that this would never be me. It’s just not where I see myself (plus, I’m pretty sure that this means that you have to sell yourself to someone who might publish you. Interviews make me feel squishy inside, and I’m all too certain that my lackluster ability to spell properly coupled with the fact that my grammar is often wrong would prevent any sort of deal).
And, more importantly, I hate the word “memoir.”
But my conversation with my father would have been the ideal segue to tell my family about my blog. And I choked.
I’ve read other blogs that are read by the blogger’s family, and I’ve always found it strange.
It’s not my *ahem* colorful language that made me shy to tell him, hell, I learned the best of these phrases from my father himself, and it’s not even the subject matter. Although I occasionally refer to my slightly turbulent childhood and my mother’s illness, I don’t say anything THAT BAD about it. Certainly nothing I am ashamed of seeing later.
And honestly, since most of my real life friends read this blog (okay, okay, it’s because I pay them), I know better than to say something on here that I wouldn’t say to someone’s face. The Internet is a small, small, place sometimes, so I try to keep ANYTHING remotely inflammatory off these pages. It seems safer that way. Plus, I hate the idea of inadvertently hurting someone’s feelings. Anyone’s. Unless that was my goal.
That said, being “out” to my father, who I know would faithfully read this (but probably never comment) leaves me with an odd kind of gooshy feeling. Dave suggested that I print out some of my choicer posts and give them to him in hard copy form, but I doubt that they would read like anything OTHER than a blog post, and as an avid blog reader himself, he would know. Or could easily google it.
Am I over-analyzing something simpler than that? Should I just let him know ALL ABOUT his daughter, Aunt Becky and be done with it? I have a feeling that someday he’ll discover me here, whether or not I tell him about it, because The Internet is just that small sometimes.
Peronally I would rather that my dad and most of the people I know IRL (in real life) would not read my blog. I need some place where I can vent and complain and not worry about hurt feelings. My sister, my sis in law, and a few friends read, but I sort of like that I have this little part of myself which people don’t know about.
All that being said, if you don’t mind your dad reading, let him know. You have nothing to be ashamed of.
I never understand how people send their blogs to their families either. Friends are one thing but families… I don’t know. Maybe I just have a weird family but I don’t share anything with them really, certainly nothing emotional. So for me to let my family read would be, for me, like yelling out “Hey I have feelings!” I think they would all die of shock. Of course, my in-laws have found me and read which is why all the entries where I talk about them are password protected (per their request).
I guess it really all comes down to personal preference. Is it going to change the way you write if you do tell him about it?
My MIL reads my blog every day. It feels slightly constraining sometimes, but it also keeps me very honest. I find I want to express the absolute truth to her there, where I cannot hide behind politeness.
Oh, and search under my name. See how quickly my blog comes up. Yeah, the internet is small and a little disconcerting, I must say.
No one IRL knows about my blog but my sis and she doesn’t read it. I’m writing mostly to get to know more people online since my past experience online was mostly on the dating side and that’s verboten (unless he’s rich or Ryan Reynolds). And I’m stuck in the sticks and want interesting people to talk to. I don’t write anything really awful, but I’m sure there are family members who wouldn’t take some of it well (mostly cuz they’re snots).
Emily- OMG! I’d have to get a divorce and move into a nunnery (they still got those?) if my MIL saw my blog! She and I are already in a “try not to show we hate each other” kind of situation.
I cannot imagine much else more horrifying than letting my family read my blog. Umm, and my MIL? I’d be joining the nunnery with honeywine. For sure.
That said, there are people IRL that I wouldn’t mind having read it; if your dad is one of those people for you, then give him the addi. Better to dump the whole motherload then piecemeal it, since (like you said) he’ll probably find it all anyway!
You have probably blogged for long enough to know whether you want someone reading or not, and the type of things you want to write about. I know for me, I reached a place where I no longer wanted my mum / friends / work colleagues to read my blog, though in the beginning I didn’t mind at all. If you get discovered, most likely it’s meant to be, right?
I’m not overly comfortable about people I know reading my blog. I know that they probably do but I’d rather they just not say anything about it. That’s probably weird and unhealthy in it’s own way?!
As for the spelling and grammar thing as my kids like to tell me, “it’s that what editors are for mom?”
can you tell I rock at the homeschooling?!
Hi there..came to you via Emily at Wheels on the Bus. You are so deserving of her award, I must agree! I also know the discomfort that comes with blogging. I used to be very anonymous about it all, myself. And then circumstances led to my being discovered anyway. So, I tore some things down, hastily, and had a long think about it all. I write honestly about only those things that I would be willing to share in my real life with everyone I know anyway. And now, I use my real name as well as a photo, and more than anything, I’m coming to realize that I don’t have to apologize for who I am or what I think…and I don’t have to hide behind some kind of curtain of anonymity either. You know?
I’m fairly sure that even if my family members found my blog that they know so little about me that they would never be able to figure out who the author was.
I kept everything anonymous for a while and then a friend of mine found my blog and I just decided to tell my family about it too. I deleted more than a few posts and now I don’t write anything I wouldn’t want my friends & family to read.