TMI?

Sometimes after publishing a post, I wonder if I’ve shared too much. You know, given a little “TMI” (too much information). While I don’t say anything disrespectful or controversial or extremist in nature, I openly admit to my character flaws, writing struggles, fears, sugar addiction, loneliness, and carnal desires, among other personal things. I’m not ashamed of myself, I am who I am—a wonderfully imperfect human who examines herself critically and honestly and feels as though sharing those findings with the world unburdens her soul. I’m aware that some would argue I’m merely an online narcissist, one of the millions who think the world cares about their profound reflections. Well, do you?

Should I be doing this? This whole spill my guts thing? Aren’t people supposed to keep their thoughts about themselves to themselves? Sure it’s okay to talk about other people’s lives, but to turn the microscope on yourself and proclaim to the world Look at me! With my self-deprecating sense of humor, somewhat deviant thoughts, questionable fashion sense, goofy dances, aversion to technological advances, weakness for romance and happy endings, and hairy legs.

Who’s reading this thing anyway? Aside from the very special person who reads faithfully (sending her a big >hug<). I know plenty of things about people who don’t even know my last name (thanks to my good pal, Google). Could someone who I see all the time, whose last (or even first) name I don’t know, have plenty of info on me because they read my musings? The thought intrigues me. The man I’m currently infatuated with, are you reading this? I’ll never know, will I? And neither will you. My best friend during high school, I still think of you and wish things hadn’t changed. Are you reading this? Chris, who would have made me the happiest girl on campus by saying “yes” to my movie invite, are you reading this? I could sit here all night pondering who visits me. How interesting, online anonymity protects the audience, but offers little to the entertainer.

I like that I have private thoughts and memories and feelings. Things that can’t be hacked or compromised. Things unknown to any other being. I suppose I just answered my own question. It’s okay if I share parts of me with the world, and, no, it’s not too much. For I don’t share my all, my everything, and that’s the important part. I have a secret place where the rest of me is housed. There’s some good stuff in there, stuff that fuels my every thought and action. But don’t feel slighted; the stuff you read is pretty good too. In fact, and this is between me and you, the dividing line between what I post and what I keep in my secret place is sometimes indistinguishable.

JS