I Couldn't Write on My Blog Once I Stopped Being Anonymous

It seemed like a good idea. A great one, even.

For years I had been blogging under a pen name regularly about infertility and our journey to build our family, but I felt that the time had come for a change. I was feeling constrained by the subject matter and felt my anonymity made it tough to grow my readership.

If I stopped being anonymous, I reasoned, I wouldn't be stuck in one subject. I could write about everything that was important to me: politics, running, parenting, family. I decided to "out" myself: put my real name on my blog, link it to my existing social media accounts, and start writing about my Real Life.

It was a surprise to discover that once I shed my anonymity, I actually couldn't write at all.

I have spent the past two years writing in fits and starts. My poor blog sometimes goes weeks at a time with no posts until I force myself to write and put a few posts up, but then it languishes again while I figure out what to write.

For a while, I told myself that it was a number of things. I was busy. I was happy. I didn't make enough time to write daily. I just needed to write more and the posts would come. I needed a break to help build my writing mojo again. Yet still my blog sat there, neglected.

The irony: Over these years, I have experienced a plethora of writing fodder. Pregnancy loss and the end of our efforts to add to our family. A full summer spent as an anxious insomniac when I realized my job was making me miserable, but I had no idea what might be next. Thorny, persistent parenting issues with our son. Marriage and relationship issues. Abject fear about the current political climate.

I do not suffer from a dearth of writing topics.

But every time I attempt to write a post which tackles one of those issues, I either stop writing about it altogether, or leave it, unfinished, in my drafts folder.

It struck me recently, as I was discussing this very issue with a friend: The reason I stop and think before I hit "publish" is because I believe strongly that bloggers have a responsibility to the people in their life that are part of the story.

Especially with words. Words are so powerful – I know this firsthand from our experience during fertility treatments. We heard many different words from our well-meaning friends and family during our years of fertility treatments, and a good portion of them were along the lines of just relax, and maybe you want it too much? Those words hurt every time.

The words that were most helpful were the ones that contained empathy. The ones that said, I'm so sorry. What can I do? or that really sucks. They were full of validation and care and made me feel much less alone than I would otherwise.

So it was from that experience that I decided to live my life with the intention to use words for good only.

So I question my writing a lot. Will this post I'm writing be kind? Will I unintentionally hurt someone with this?

And then there's my son and husband, both of whom hold their feelings closely. If I blog about parenting or marriage - both the struggles AND the brags - then I'm putting their story out there onto the internet.

How will my son feel in 5, 8, 10 years when he googles his name and sees posts about his elementary school issues, or when he reads about the complexity of my love and exhaustion that is parenting? How will my husband feel if I invite the world to look at our marriage?

Ultimately, my story includes other people – with whom I will have a relationship long after my feelings are gone. And the words I write, therefore, must be chosen carefully.

So if blogging is so fraught, then what is the point of doing it at all? I will confess, over the past few years I've wondered that a lot and toyed with stepping away from blogging for good. But, then… I come back. Why?

Because my story is not simply my own. Many other women out there are struggling with job they dislike and juggling parenting, marriage, insomnia, infertility, responsibility, love, and family. They are just like me.

And I believe that right kind of words – authentic, open, and kind words – are powerful enough to forge a connection.

They say I'm not alone. You're not alone. We're all in this being human thing together.

I feel so strongly that in this day and and age, where we are so connected - yet feel so disconnected - words that connect us all are the most important kind of words. So I'll keep starting and stopping my blog posts, and weigh each of my words carefully, and walking that fine line between responsibility and authenticity. I'll keep trying, because it's all I can do.

Do you struggle with telling your story via your blog? Why?

Source: I Couldn't Write on My Blog Once I Stopped Being Anonymous