It was a little over a year ago that I started taking my writing seriously. Right around that time was when I decided to start this blog. For better or worse, Desultory Views has become a part of me and I enjoy sharing that part with everyone else. I thought that in the process, everyone understood what this was and why I did it. I was wrong, and I think I need to restate exactly what this blog is about and what you'll find here.
Yesterday I got a call from my mother. She was very upset with me about something I wrote in a previous post. She wasn't so much upset with my views in the post, but rather the fact that I shared them here on the Internet. She asked me to take them down, to which I said I wasn't going to do that. Here's why:
This blog is an outlet for me. It gives me the chance to express myself creatively and passionately on any topic I choose. By writing on here I am able to reflect and internalize my thoughts and feelings in a way that allows me to understand the world around me in a more comprehensive manner and to deal with any problems, obstacles, or stress that enters into my life. In simple terms, it's a healing and growing exercise for me.
As a result of this there are going to be times when my raw emotions and honest views come out for everyone to see. It could be extreme political and moral views, or personal dirty laundry from myself or even my family. If something involves me or effects me, I may write about it here. I also may not. There is no hard or fast rule as to what or how I choose something, each thing I write about is unique in it's own right and I am affected differently. My intention has never been to embarrass someone (other than good natured ribbing and scoundrelship amongst friends) so if I write about you and you're embarrassed about it, try not to do things that you'll regret or be embarrassed about later on.
As for the incident in question that happened yesterday, I thought about it more last night after I got off the phone with my mother and I stand by my decision not to remove or edit my previous post. To be clear on what happened, someone had read the post and either thought it was out of line, or thought my mother should know about it, and called her. This person not only told her about the post, but read it to her verbatim and on my mother's request has printed it out and sent it to my mother via the mail. That's right, my mother isn't even the one who discovered this! She didn't want to tell me who it was who told her, and that's fine really. I would like to know but it's not that important. I'm not even mad at that person, I'm actually trepiditiously excited that my writing was able to provoke a response of this nature. Granted, I'd rather it have been a more positive response, but what I wrote obviously touched someone else and that's really what all writers look for when someone reads their work.
Now, as far as this whole ordeal goes, I completely understand my mother's position and I respect her for talking to me about it, but I don't think this situation is of a sensitive enough nature to require me to censor my writing. As embarrassing as my mother finds the entire post out there for others to read, I am embarrassed by the actions and events that prompted me to mention it in the first place.
I guess the part that hurts the most is the lack of understanding from my family and that's what has prompted me to write such a post. I should have expected this from my mother; we've never been close and despite my attempts to share my views and passions in life with her I've never felt that she's really interested. This is obvious as recently as yesterday. During the entire conversation with my mother, there was never an attempt to consider my position or reasons, I was wrong from the onset. She never solicitated my reasons, I did this in defense of myself. The thing to note was that no matter how patient, or how polite I tried to be in explaining myself she kept cutting me off at every turn disrespecting me by ignoring what I had to say.
I know I didn't behave in the most respectful manner, at one point telling her to "Shut Up" and I'm not proud of that, but I at least listened and considered what she had to say. I guess my point in all of this is that even after 37 years my feelings are still not as important as hers. I'm not a fool, I know this is going to get back to her-- at the very least through the same channels as the last time. I'm still ok with this. I'm not trying to hurt her, but the way she acted and the way she continues to treat me hurts me and this is how I deal with it. I know I can't change her or even the way she interacts or thinks of me but at the very least I can channel my feelings into something productive.
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