When we sat in my kitchen and talked about doing this blogging thing, we talked a lot about audience, and how having one can be both good and bad. Good is obvious, right: attention and feedback and that little thrill of connection. But bad is something we both experienced. You got frustrated with your commenters, felt boxed in with dread that you'd be nitpicked to death. And I got to feel this pressure when I sat down to write, to be the happy self or the authentic self or the inspiring self, whatever it was I came to believe people expected me to be. (It was sort of silly, when I think about it now.) So, this time, no commenters, at least to start. And, we said, we'll do this together to keep each other honest. If I know I'm writing to you, I'll tell the truth. If I'm writing to the great wide world, I am tempted to edit, omit, redact. But I can tell you all of it without fear or shame. And maybe some interesting things will happen if we do that in public, letting other people sit in on our friendship. Maybe we'll make some more friends.
That was the other thing I remember talking about, when we were talking about why do this at all, why not just communicate on a backchannel like we've been doing. I think you brought it up, but I liked it a lot. It's good for people to see healthy female friendships. There aren't so many models for that, and maybe ours being out there in public will be helpful to someone.
I don't know if comparison or competition is universal between women,
but I think it's pretty common. And it's a hard habit for me to break,
although I'm doing better with each passing year. I don't feel
intimidated by you, sugarplum, and I'm having lots of fun with this
project. You won't scare me away, nor will an audience of people who
are comparing the two of us. But I don't want to fall into the trap of
self-caricature, where I play only to my strengths and leave you to
yours and never learn or try the kind of thinking or writing that I'm
not great at, for fear of falling short or disappointing you, or the readers. And I am duty bound to say, um, you ARE comparing us,
at least a little bit. I don't think it's self-flagellating comparison
that either of us are doing. But at least for me, that can happen
really subtly, and naming it helps me to remember that.
I have some pretty impressive friends, just like you do, and we cheer
one another on. But from time to time I look to my friends' lives and
wonder, hmm, is that the right path to be on? How come I'm not wired
like that person? (These days its a baby explosion -- everyone I know
is holding a bundle and talking about how they can now love in an
unprecedented way, and I look at their happiness and check my own heart and think, if I don't want
to do that myself is there something wrong with me?) I have setbacks where I
don't like how I'm living and the happy, easy success of my friends
makes me feel more alone and stunted. Most of the time they're instead
models of possibility -- people like me can do and be all of these
great things. But sometimes I choose the darker side -- people like me
can do and be all of these great things, and yet here I am, stuck on my
couch eating a bowl of cereal for dinner and surfing the internet.
I'm not in the dark side too often, and it sounds like you go there even less than me. But we're both tall women, standing in the sunshine, and we will cast shadows. And sometimes, no matter how well-intentioned we are, those shadows will fall on one another.