My next two blog posts will be a departure from the norm for me as both will encompass some very personal feelings about two very important people to me—my husband and my daughter. I am a private person by nature; therefore, I also try to be sensitive of the privacy of others, especially my own children. If I offend someone who knows me well, I expect them to reach out to me in private to express their feelings. A public forum is never the place to air your grievances. Unbridled rage and sarcasm only make readers wary. And do not confuse public interest with empathy; at the most, you are mildly entertaining, like scanning a National Enquirer at the grocery store checkout. Nothing more. Those who feed into your e-tantrums and daily rants are not your friends—trust me. They will not be there when the crowd grows bored with you and moves on to the next titillating topic.
I revile bloggers who post scathing rebukes electronically as a way to exact punishment for perceived wrongs. I shake my head in disgust when I read unflattering posts about easily identifiable family members or friends written in what appears to be some form of cheap entertainment. I wonder how these otherwise intelligent people fail to realize that a blog is not a child’s diary that can be kept under lock and key. A blog is a living, breathing document. A scathing post can have deleterious and long-lasting effects. If your relationships are strained to the breaking point or, worse, you can count lost relationships among the collateral damage, you are probably one of the offenders of whom I speak. I admit that this self-ascribed “Code of e-Conduct” is the hope and dream of a fatally flawed individual and, as such, I am sure to fail miserably now and again. No matter, it is enough to strive for excellence; no one will crucify you if you fall short on occasion.
Sadly, my hyper-sensitivity to privacy issues has also worked against me, preventing me from sharing my thoughts and feelings about the people I care about the most. I intend to remedy this situation by writing opuses for two people of whom I’ve never written about publicly—pieces that, in the event of my untimely departure, I would be proud for them to read and share with others. I am not an emotional person by nature; however, I am a human being who, like you, loves her family with all her heart. It seems shameful not to try and capture my feelings for the ones I love in words, if for no other reason than simply to raise them up. To my husband and daughter, thank you for trusting me to write about you. I promise not to embarrass you; well, not intentionally, anyway.
I revile bloggers who post scathing rebukes electronically as a way to exact punishment for perceived wrongs. I shake my head in disgust when I read unflattering posts about easily identifiable family members or friends written in what appears to be some form of cheap entertainment. I wonder how these otherwise intelligent people fail to realize that a blog is not a child’s diary that can be kept under lock and key. A blog is a living, breathing document. A scathing post can have deleterious and long-lasting effects. If your relationships are strained to the breaking point or, worse, you can count lost relationships among the collateral damage, you are probably one of the offenders of whom I speak. I admit that this self-ascribed “Code of e-Conduct” is the hope and dream of a fatally flawed individual and, as such, I am sure to fail miserably now and again. No matter, it is enough to strive for excellence; no one will crucify you if you fall short on occasion.
Sadly, my hyper-sensitivity to privacy issues has also worked against me, preventing me from sharing my thoughts and feelings about the people I care about the most. I intend to remedy this situation by writing opuses for two people of whom I’ve never written about publicly—pieces that, in the event of my untimely departure, I would be proud for them to read and share with others. I am not an emotional person by nature; however, I am a human being who, like you, loves her family with all her heart. It seems shameful not to try and capture my feelings for the ones I love in words, if for no other reason than simply to raise them up. To my husband and daughter, thank you for trusting me to write about you. I promise not to embarrass you; well, not intentionally, anyway.
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