This essay was originally printed in Alaska Women Speak, Winter 2006 edition.
I know I am not alone in the following line of thought: The word “blog” sounds suspiciously like a bodily function that no one wants to admit too. It brings to mind some disgusting habit that should be done in secret, in the privacy of one’s home, and certainly not before strangers. Like, say, picking one’s nose, vomiting, bathroom habits, etc.
Journaling, on the other hand, has always brought to mind something private, but far less disgusting. This is a place to pen - by hand - one’s innermost thoughts. Like how Jimmy looked in a swimsuit and OMG maybe he was gonna kiss me and possibly even touch my left breast and what will I tell my MOM and I hope she never reads this EVER you’re my only true friend, dear diary! (Mental note: Check pre-teen daughter’s room for diary.) (Kidding!)
Keeping these personal definitions in mind, one wonders why I joined the Online Journaling club back on Open Diary (Called OD by fans, for reasons that became instantly clear as we OD’d on voyeurism near instantaneously.) in late 1999. I discovered when I came online in 1997, that - after I taught myself to type - I could work through my thoughts and feelings much better in writing then in any other form. Things that seemed abstract and unreachable could be made to become clear in the careful placing of one letter after another. I discovered a love of telling stories, and a joy of ‘talking’ to other people via this screen. Perhaps Online Journaling was simply the next step.
I know that, at the time, I had some issues. (Who am I kidding? I STILL have issues!) Putting them out there on the world wide web where someone could read my semi-anonymous words and come back with some additional words of comfort or wisdom, it would make me feel less alone, that somewhere out there, there was someone who would ‘get’ me, without all the trappings of RL (real life) getting in the way. It was very cleansing for me. I could tap into the feeling and lay it bare, strip away all the extraneous bull and get to the real true heart of the matter, before having to deal with it in a real life situation. It was a way to clarify thought and feelings by excising all the excess - making the grays my own personal black and white.
So I continued, and I have kept an online journal - or yes, blog - consistently since that time, though it’s grown and evolved with the technology. I went from Open Diary, to my own web space and Graymatter, to Moveable Type, and finally to Wordpress. I’ve had many names, but the persona behind them has always been distinctly me. I have made friends, shared joys and triumphs, as well as the very depths of personal loss. Somehow - putting the words down in such a publicly private way was cleansing in a manner that handwritten journals never could be for me. I can’t handwrite fast enough to keep up with thought, but now, at 80wpm, this self-taught typist has a fighting chance.
For the past several years, I have been Lessa to many people online - so many, in fact, that I answer to that name in real life as well. It is my designing company name, a name I’ve embraced as a ‘nickname’. I still journal online with relative consistency. I don’t know exactly how many readers I have - I call them collectively “my three loyal readers”. Sometimes they’re shy about commenting. Sometimes I am too, so it’s never really been about that for me. I figure that those who are meant to find me, will. I have made connections online that I never thought possible - my best friend and I are separated by thousands of miles, but are never far from each other’s thoughts. My writing has improved - at least a little bit. My ability to tell a story has improved as well. I think.
My directness has never wavered, and I am pleased to say that I don’t hold back, still stand for what I believe in, and I’m not afraid to throw a punch where punches are needed. I don’t write what I would be afraid to say to someone’s face. If I fear it will hurt someone too badly, or the wound or issue I am writing about is still too raw, I password protect the entry. Those times are few and far between, as my strength to write what I mean and mean what I write has grown. I pride myself in honesty - raw and personal - and I think that comes out in my writing.
Of course, I am also labeled a “mommy blogger” which means many of my entries are about my children. I like to think that someday, in the future, they will look back, read, and remember. I write of them with love, humor and exasperation. They are a huge part of my life - and as with any other part of my life I write about it with honesty - and I don’t plan on stopping anytime soon. After all, the world deserves to know that my kids are better then everyone else’s.
I’m not one of the ‘in-crowd’ of uber-popular writers. I make no money from my blog; I don’t have 300+ comments on each and every entry. Most entries have no comments, and all have less then 10. Yet I still write, because at the very base level, this writing is for me. If the world at large chooses to ignore it, it is their loss. To those who ‘get’ me, it is my gain.
So in closing, I invite you to see if you ‘get’ me too. Feel free to become one of “my three loyal readers” - I’ll leave the comments on for you.
