For the first time in a long time, I wanted to quit blogging tonight. That sounds dramatic and worthy of an eye roll, but it’s me we’re talking about.
Let me back up.
A couple of months ago the talented, extremely humble and ridiculously nice Jill Smokler of Scary Mommy fame agreed to let me put a guest post up on the weekly Society Posts section of her website. It’s basically a chance for people to offer a different perspective on parenting.
Ironic, I know, but go with it.
Anyway, I wrote a tongue-in-cheek post about why I don’t have kids and why parents should probably stop mistaking my general interest as an invitation to inundate me with hourly updates on baby bowel movements. Jill liked it, so we went with it.
If you know me, you know I’m snarky and sarcastic, but I’m never mean. These readers don’t know me, and while the comments on the post were fine, the result on the Scary Mommy Facebook page revealed that not only am I apparently mean, but I’m resentful, untalented, spoiled and selfish—among many other things.
Oh yes, and even though I didn’t title or format the post, they ripped on that as well.
I won’t go into the details, but it really, really got to me. Tell me to suck it up, that if I can’t take it I shouldn’t dish it out, but I had no idea that it would strike such a nerve.
But that fact is that I don’t have an issue with people disagreeing with me. I have an issue with the fact that my character is called into question.
Because while I might not be changing infant diapers, I have changed the diapers of my 90-year-old grandma and spent years dispensing care.
Because while I might not be thrilled when a coworker repeatedly tells me that the world is ending because her toddler crapped his pants again, I am a good friend and listen—really listen—when people talk to me about whatever it is that they talk to me about.
I might “selfishly write about my veggie steamer and cat” as one person brought up, but I also donated all the profits from my book to the Humane Society, and just as kids are important to some, those things are important to me.
So while I admit that this sounds quite defensive—which it kind of is—it’s really more of a reminder to myself that I am many things.
I am a writer, a daughter, a granddaughter, a sports fan, a cat mom, a friend and someone who knows who she is.
What I am not is mean, resentful, untalented, spoiled or selfish, and I hate how the opinion of a few were suddenly causing me to think that way. I hate how I had a different post planned for this week, but started to wonder, “Is it selfish? Is it mean? Why the hell am I blogging anyway? What’s the point?”
The point is that not everyone will like me.
In fact, some complete strangers flat out hate me because I struck a mommy nerve and got their granny panties in a knot. But as a certain (scary) mommy blogger put it, “screw ‘em.”
So I’ll brush it off, watch the ballgame and play with my cat tonight because she’s pissed I’ve ignored her while obsessing over this crap. Later I’ll selfishly post about accidentally walking outside without pants on and ranting about neighbor kids because that’s just what I do.
Well, that and piss off mommy bloggers.
Thanks for letting me vent.
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