Are you being seen?
This morning I found myself reflecting on the blog: how much I should produce, what kind of content… and, above all, when. That reflection led me to a realization. You see, I’ve noticed that, on several occasions, I’ve published not long after experiencing something particularly impactful. Then today I told myself that perhaps I should avoid doing that, but I quickly wondered, "why should it be that way?" This is my conclusion, or rather, my stream of thought.
Since I was little, I’ve found it especially dishonest to do things driven by emotion. I even remember moments when I felt embarrassed giving gifts at school for Father’s Day, Mother’s Day, and so on. When something is done “from the heart,” from emotion, it feels dishonest to me, at the very least, questionable and invalid. On the other hand, something premeditated, done with composure and thought, already detached from the initial emotion, doesn’t provoke that same feeling of discomfort.
I wonder not only if I’m the only one who feels this way, but also if I’m the only one who notices the contradiction it carries. Because I think that, in common understanding, it’s quite the opposite: visceral emotion is seen as authentic, while conscious expression seems fabricated. So, is what’s premeditated more valuable? More honest? Why? In both cases, prejudice and instinct come into play, and there’s the same kind of blindness: one driven by ideology or values, the other by instinctive needs. It doesn’t seem fair to make one prevail over the other in general, though I do believe that, depending on the purpose of the text, one must choose between them.
Of course, if you’re writing a scientific article, you won’t compose it the same way you would a fan wiki or an opinion piece. I’m not only referring to formal matters, but also to personal blogs, where we supposedly show ourselves as vulnerable before others. To what extent should we distance ourselves? To what extent should we “polish” our text?
Today I felt inspired by my Roman History class, where the professor urged us to abandon the naïve belief that the sources we rely on for our knowledge and understanding are free of ideological intent. In antiquity, people didn’t write with the past or the future in mind; the texts we preserve were tools meant to justify what was happening in the present at the time they were written. The professor gave the example of how Titus Livius was like the CNN or Fox News of his day: narratives with an agenda.
This leads me to another question: what image am I selling? My real self, or a persona? What’s the purpose? What’s my truth? These questions are not only hard to answer, but can even be counterproductive to ask here, because behind them lies a need and that, in my view (and according to what I mentioned at the beginning of this text), is dishonest. Or perhaps simply vulnerable and scary. Considering my supposed shortcomings, I think I’ll go with the latter. I’m afraid of rejection, and worrying about the formal side of things is just an excuse to censor myself and stay in my comfort zone. You can't hurt me if I haven't let you see me.
If you’re creating a personal blog, think carefully about what you share, how you share it, with its most intimate purpose on mind, because in my opinion, that may be the key to achieving success internally and attract the material benefits you may wish.