This is MY Story

WARNING: This is MY SPACE on the Internet. As I write this an email notification has popped up reminding me that my domain is set to expire at the end of the month and I will be charged accordingly. This is not Facebook or Twitter; I pay for this with not just my time and experiences but in cash money as well.

This is my space to write what I feel in my heart. I created this space to mostly write about the books I am reading but every once and while (or more frequently than not) I use this page to express myself. I don’t draw or paint; I express myself and my frustrations through the written word. This is not a page where I air my dirty laundry, or talk about people in cryptic tones – that is what people use Facebook for and why I am no longer a part of that culture.

This is a place to share myself and feelings without all the extra noise of life. I can center my thoughts here in a somewhat coherent flow. I don’t have to justify my thoughts or feelings here. This is a place where I hope other mothers, daughters, sisters, wives, women of color, working women, will stumble across and feel like they are a little less alone in their thoughts and feelings. I am well aware that anyone can find this page and read my words. I do not hide my page. I have it linked everywhere. I want people to find it if for no other reason than to maybe understand me a little better.

Blogging acts like a canvass where you synthesize, remix and interpret in your words.

Wells Baum

When I do write about the people in my life, I don’t write anything I have not actually already told them. This is not my diary. If I want to call you out on your “bullshit”, I’ll do that in my journal (for my eyes only) so that in a few years I can look back and laugh at my nonsense. But there is a good chance unless you’re someone close to me you don’t take up that much head space in my brain- sorry.

But I am allowed to write and feel. And you are 100% allowed to feel and have an opinion different than mine. I will not argue with you over it.

How I normally work this site (not that I need to explain it but feel it may be necessary for the people in the back): I will have feelings about a thing. I will write a post. I will let it sit there and after a day or two I will schedule it to post at a later date and time – sometimes a month out; someones a day or two. So if you read something, know that I was feeling that way in the past and I have moved on from it but felt what I said needed to be said. Sometimes, after I reflect on what I wrote I feel like it is too much. Someone’s feelings will get hurt. After a day or two I no longer feel that strongly about whatever it was or find it inappropriate to write… and I will delete the unpublished post entirely. (It’s probably something I should have just put in my journal) I have actually written about this, here.

I am physically incapable of keeping my emotions and frustrations to myself. Most times I will say something to whoever is causing me stress; if I am unable to do that I will vent those frustrations to my husband or my journal. I refuse to let something eat at me from the inside. I need to get it out in one form or another and I would rather let the person who is upsetting me know they are upsetting me (DIRECTLY) for my own well-being than theirs. I am too old for all that passive aggressive stuff.

I welcome conversations about anything that I write. If I hurt your feelings I will apologize and explain myself (even though you may not be willing to listen) but what I won’t do is apologize for how I feel or take my post down. I would never post anything to hurt anyone on purpose. And if you actually know me IRL and think I would do something so heartless, then you don’t really know me at all.

The stories I tell in this space while they may include other people, they are about me. It may sound selfish, but this is space is all about me, me, me, me, me. Despite some belief though I can not tell my story without including others. I can not tell you what I have learned, or how I feel without saying what happened to me to make me feel this way. I have no authority to say anything in a public forum unless I can say what gives me the right to say these things.

When it comes to blogging effectively, you have to be a little vulnerable. Don’t tell all but don’t hide everything either, especially if your advice will benefit the lives of other people.

Wells Baum

I am 35 years old. I am too old for this. I don’t know why at this point in my life I have to explain myself until I am nauseous with a headache.

Write a cryptic Facebook post about me. Tell all of your family, co-workers, kids, friends, sister’s brother’s girlfriend’s cousin’s Aunt how awful you think I think you are. Life is too short for all of this. I have most likely explained myself to you. I can agree we will disagree. I can move on. I can meet you for dinner or drinks; I can work with you, I can laugh with you. I can move on and not hold it against you. I refuse to play the games I see my teen aged kids play with their friends. I will not let small moments like these dictate our relationship; I will not beat it into the ground either. If I tell you I have let it go – trust me, I have let it go.

Regardless of what happens going forward, there is nothing else I can do but I am truly sorry. But I will continue to share my story with or without your approval.


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