Writing and Disclosure

I am an excellent typist. I type super fast with few mistakes. Well, maybe not as fast as Susan Miller, the 1975 Von Steuben High School Champion, who won the all-city contest and was supposed to go to Hawaii for the nationals until her mean-spirited typing teacher put the kibosh on the trip. Her teacher was a raving anti-Semite, even chastising my sister for taking Yom Kippur off: “Don’t give me that Jew jive, girl!” Oy, does the statute of limitations for sociopathic educators extend beyond 30 years? But like Sue, I’ve got the typing gene—maybe our ancestors had to do quick precision work with their hands in the fields of Poland. My daughter Leah, whose only frustration with her new blog is her slow typing speed, marvels at how fast my fingers glide across my iBook. Invariably, whenever she makes a comment about my typing skills, my mistakes immediately increase by about 300 percent. I then realize that I can only type well when I’m not aware that I’m doing it. Self-consciousness kills it instantly and I have to wait until I am back “in the zone” and my fingers become unaware of what they are doing.

I think the same is true for writing, especially writing in a blog. I’ve been noticing lately that whenever I think about people reading what I write in here, I freeze up and the voices of self-judgment begin pouring down like acid rain: no one could possibly be interested in what you are writing about, you shouldn’t reveal that you think that way, people are going to think that you are a sick pervert, what gives you the right to be so judgmental, you are going to upset everyone in your family, your version of the past is not accurate, where do you get off having an opinion on this topic and stating it publicly, and my ever popular, you are an out-of-control narcissist, just SHUT UP! I’m usually able to shake off these critical voices by escorting them to door of my subconscious and convincing myself that I’m only writing for me and no one will ever see it so it really doesn’t matter what I write about. Then, when I do get comments about my writing in here or elsewhere, I am always shocked that anyone took the time to read it, and thrilled that another person was able to resonate with my ramblings. It’s like a game. I know, of course, that when I write in this blog or send my writing out in the world that it’s for public consumption and I crave feedback of any kind, even negative comments (I’ve been hoping for a little hate mail—I’m jealous of the bloggers who inspire their readers to froth at the mouth in rage!). But as I’m writing, I can’t think of this or I will shut down. Is everyone like this when they write, or are some people healthy enough to maintain a clear vision of their potential audience in their heads as they put pen to paper?

Of course, with a blog the “potential audience” is quite anonymous except for the people who tell me they’re reading it or provide online comments. And then I can also see through my counter software when people from different countries have logged on and what search words have brought people to my site (Amy Carter is still averaging about a dozen hits a day!).

Yesterday I heard from a cousin and an old work acquaintance who accidentally discovered my blog through one of their Google searches. I don’t know either person very well and was very excited to make the connection but then my neuroses started kicking in. What will my relatives think if they read what I’m writing in here? Will I ever be invited to a family wedding again? What will this old acquaintance think? How will these thoughts dovetail with that person’s image of me from the past? I also got an email from a good friend in France yesterday who I haven’t seen in about 12 years. She took a look at my blog and said “It is very interesting to see you so differently.” An innocent comment but it made me start thinking of all the ways I develop different personalities to match my different relationships, and now having this online version of myself could screw up all my work in revealing only carefully chosen bits of myself to different people!

Not that I’m implying that what I write about in here represents the REAL me. In a way it’s just another crafted persona. Recently when I laughed at something Kendall said that related to what I was writing about, she asked if I was going to include it. “I’m tempted,” I said, “but I don’t think it fits your character in my blog.” Oy. On the other hand, because I’m able to pretend as I’m writing that this is just for my eyes, I think I’m able to express more of my real thoughts here than in any other forum. And that’s what worries me. As I imagined my extended family getting wind of this blog yesterday, I got more and more agitated thinking of the different topics I’ve addressed in here. What will they think of my comments about the religious Jews I was observing from Starbucks? Will they judge me for not observing Shabbat? Will they take offense at anything I said about Israel or my great-grandparents? Why did I write that entry about sex education and different words for vagina? As I spun out of control and imagined a chain reaction of emails crisscrossing the world with headings such as “Danny Miller Is No Longer Part of This Family,” I realized this was all coming from me. I’m the only one who thinks I have some kind of “image” to maintain among my family members, my work colleagues, or anyone else. As my sister said to me last night when I was worried about being blackballed from the family because of what I’ve written, “They know you’re not a Chasidic Jew and they’ve heard of vaginas before.”

And so I will continue my online schizophrenia—making myself believe that no one will ever read anything I write while craving an audience and feedback. And I can’t let myself worry about boring people because then I’d never be able to write a single word. I just need to remember that people can click off a website as quickly as they clicked on. (What? Are you leaving that fast? Did I do something wrong? Was it something I said?)

Comments

[Tamar]

Danny, you are TOO much. And I mean that as a VERY GOOD thing. I identify with so much of what you are saying. At this point I am still quite frozen. There is so much more I could be saying on my blog. My "inner" voices are also some valid external ones. I have to get past the "well - so what if that person thinks that" especially where it relates to my nemesis! There are many of us out here reading your blog. You make me laugh and cry. You make me think. You make me feel supported and part of a wonderful cyber family(and you probably know by now how much I adore to adopt other families as my own).

More than all of that you give me courage to express myself more and more - the opposite of what I am used to, which is more along the lines of: "Sit down, do it my way and shut up!"

And, yes, of course we have different aspects of ourselves that show more prominently in different places. That's the beauty, the magic, the complexity and wonder of it all! As I said to David: Onwards and upwards to us all!

[Elaine Soloway]

Danny, I'm not saying this because I'm currently on your blog page, but your site is on my desktop (Mac of course) for daily check-ins.

Perhaps because there are writers in my family, the topics you cover -- particularily today's issue of your family's reactions -- are always of interest. And then there's the Jewish thing. And your sister, my third daughter.

Your blog stands out from others because of the attention you give to your writing. It may be a bissel uncensored, but it's carefully crafted. It shows.

Enough strokes for one day?

[Ellen]

"An innocent comment but it made me start thinking of all the ways I develop different personalities to match my different relationships, and now having this online version of myself could screw up all my work in revealing only carefully chosen bits of myself to different people!"

This made me laugh harder than anything I've heard all week and is the #1 reason why I don't have my own blog! (Even though now I don't have to because like I said before, I think it, you type it.)