Some Days
Some days I simply can’t take the crap. That damn Chronicle blog has been both the greatest and worst thing that’s ever happened to me. It’s lead me to some amazing opportunities, opened doors to experiences I never thought possible, and introduced me to some incredible people.
It also leaves me wide open to the world.
This blog has been my private little corner of the Internet since 2005. Here I rant and rave about my percieved injustices, profess my love for my daughter, pour out my insecurities and share the conversations that make me laugh. Here I remain anonymous, like so many others who choose to put their life out there for the world to see. A few people care, billions do not… and I’m perfectly happy with that.
But the Chronicle… well, that’s a different story. Occasionally a reader will blast me… brave behind their keyboards, they spew hateful epitaphs for no reason other than to try to belittle me and make me feel like a bad mother. It often makes me step back and read my own post again, to try to understand what would make someone react that way. It is here where I come to a simple reality that I do not want to accept.
Some people are just hateful.
It’s a lesson BFD has been trying to drill in my head since we met; I don’t want to believe that some people are just evil. I try to look for the good in everyone, believing that everyone must possess some form of it. If I can just reach that wounded part, that child within who strikes out with venom and pain… then I feel like my writing has purpose. It’s actually worked with a couple of readers; I would reach out behind the scenes and have a private conversation… I am genuinely interested in their lives.
But this one… she’s just a bitch. Cold and hateful, condescending and sarcastic…. and I think I know who she is.
I sent her a private message, but she will not acknowledge it. She only stalks my blog, leaving snide and nasty comments. I checked to see if she posted anywhere else, and she had not until today… which makes me think she knows me. And she really, really, REALLY does not like me.
That fact does not bother me. There’s a laundry list of people out there who hate me… many for legitimate reasons and many for gross misunderstandings. What bothers me is the cowardice of hiding behind the keyboard. My name, my life, and my feelings are laid bare for the world to see… if you’re going to blast me, grow a pair and tell me who you are.
But then, that’s the consequence of choosing to live your life publicly. You paint the target on your back, so I guess I can’t really complain about it when someone decides to take a cheap shot.