Setting boundaries.

OK, so my last post was really bitchy. I considered deleting it, but what with the zapping of the post before it and the fact that a whole bunch of people have already read it, I decided to use it instead as a segue into something I've been thinking about a lot.

First of all, I absolutely did not intend to offend any of you fabulous people who bother to read my writing. I love your blogs, and I do want to know 100 things about you. Really, I do -- I wish you would all tell me 100 things about yourselves RIGHT NOW, and then we can go to Starbucks and get lattes together and talk about those incredible powerful coffin photos and then, speaking of coffins, wasn't that buried-alive scene in Kill Bill Vol. 2 just about the most disturbing cinematic moment since Linda Blair's head swivelled around in a complete circle on her puny, possessed shoulders?

Are we still friends?

Anyways, what I really want to write about today is boundaries. Blogging is cathartic and therapeutic and ego-feeding. Particularly with regard to my disabilities, I've been writing about stuff that I've rarely verbalized, and writing about it has helped me express in the "real" world my fears and needs and insecurities. Sometimes I write about my cases, but I can't tell you nearly all that I'd like about my clients and the hell they've been through and how their rights have been chewed up and spit back out at them and how totally fucked up the criminal justices system is, because for all I know, my opponent is reading this, or the judge's law clerk, or the judge him or herself, or maybe my boss. I share with you my views on issues like reproductive freedom, gay marriage, the death penalty, church/state separation, the debacle in Iraq, and the upcoming election, so you know my politics, but even there I try to toe a careful line (frequent digs at Republicans notwithstanding).

I write about my sweet boyfriend, my family, and some of my friends, but I try hard not to put anything out there that might embarrass or upset the subjects of my prose. I keep the intimate details to myself, for the most part, because I'm not at all anonymous here, because I'm just not as funny with that stuff as dooce or Mrs. Kennedy and because my grandmother reads this!

But sometimes, I lose sight of the boundaries, and forget that I'm not scribbling away in some private journal where I'm free to share my innermost thoughts and snarkiest observations. On a similar note, Scheherazade censored herself the other day after realizing that in processing by blog, she'd put a little more out there than felt comfortable. It's not that we don't want to share what we're thinking and feeling and doing. But you know who I am, and you might know the people I'm writing about, and it's really not fair to them for me to hang all the laundry out the window. And though my inner bitch may need to rear her head from time to time, she's better unleashed over a glass of wine with my best girlfriends.

Comments

[Eve]

Well, I like you no matter what. And I too have posted and then wanted to depost (or deblog, is it?). As "private" as a blog may appear to be, a good one works, I think, because it isn't actually so: there's huge chunks of life and relationship and perception and feeling that are left out. Uh, my point? Well here's one: From blogging I'm learning as much about what doesn't need to be said as what does, what makes a good or important story as what does not.

[Julia]

I so. Get it.

I don't have a blog with 100 Things, so you didn't offend me. And really, if I could find even remotely 100 Things To Say About Me, no one would find them that interesting, except maybe my husband, an ex, and my kids (if they could read), and well, maybe my parents.

I like reading your blog. It's a pleasure to read about someone who has challenges and lives life with gusto! My own children are faced with medical challenges...and I like to dream that one day they will be living their own lives like yours - owning it - with spirit and zest!

Thanks for sharing.
Julia

[Kenna]

De rien. Think nothing of it. It's a growing pain that all bloggers go through at one time or another. I think you and I started around the same time, and I've felt those pangs. Even though I (supposedly) blog anonymously, I think twice before making some entries. Did people really need to know that I cheated on my husband (not once, but twice)? Probably not. But perhaps it gives you some insight as to why I've been so obsessed about being in his good graces post-divorce. Am I afraid that people will judge me? Yes and no. They can't possibly judge me any more harshly than I've judged myself. Don't worry about offending anyone.