I have blogged, either personally and professionally, since the 1990s. My first blog was created before there was blogging software; each post meant a bit of re-creating the page. It was a pain in the ass, but I did it and pretty regularly.
On the personal side, it did something for me, mentally, to write about my life and put it out there. I had privately journaled for years (still do)–in pen and in books–but blogging hit some other part of my brain. I didn’t think what I wrote was particularly interesting to outsiders and certainly wasn’t looking to become some sort of proto-influencer or anything. I wrote for me. If someone else got something from it, great; it was an offering to the universe, in some way. Sadly, it wasn’t always a good thing.
More than a year after my early 2009 marriage breakup, my personal blog was used against me by that ex. He made my posts, especially posts about any new guy I was dating, somehow about him. If I said I had fun on a date, he took it as me publicly humiliating him…even though he was never mentioned. When I say used against me, I mean in court–he sued me. It didn’t work (I won!), but it did put a new spin on sharing my life (semi-) publicly. For a while I made all my posts password-protected and only close friends and family got the password. It didn’t feel the same and, over time, I stopped posting.
Today, like the Buddhist meditation teachings tell us to do when our minds wander, I begin again. In this case, I begin personal blogging, again.
I do this with that ex-related backstory because, well, I’m a teeny bit concerned it may happen again. I hope not; but breakups do strange things to people. There is a reason the courts that first got metal detectors were often family/domestic relations courts. People just lose their minds, sometimes.
Let me back up…I had another breakup, in July of last year. This one hit extra hard–worse than any previously. I thought he was my forever person and that we could get through anything and, after 10 years, anyone who knew me knew I was utterly committed. In fact, about six months before the breakup, I had started seeing a wonderful therapist because I wanted to figure out what I could possibly do to be a better partner for my partner. Seriously–that was my stated reason at our first session (they reminded me of that at our last, just before the new year). Obviously, that goal didn’t work out–not because I wasn’t willing to make changes but rather whatever changes I made were not, for him, enough. C’est la vie.
But the therapy helped me re-find myself and my healing was enhanced by my handwritten journaling. Now, I feel the pull to write more. To get back to sending things out to the universe, if you will. But this may carry a small risk.
That said, I don’t plan on talking about the breakup much or directly (and about my ex, even less)–this isn’t about hashing anything out in the relationship or its aftermath. But things may come up in some other context. For example, I may eventually have a date and write about that. Or I may write about something I am doing to the house. Or my struggles to assume the mortgage. Things may arise, as they say. So, while I intend to be careful not to say anything hurtful (because, honestly, I don’t want to hurt him), you just can’t know for sure how someone may react.
So, while I don’t intend to write about him in the future, I do feel the need to address him and me directly in this one post–just to be absolutely clear about what I am doing here. This blog is about me and my life, not him and his. I unconditionally wish my ex well. I wish him joy and peace and love. I hope he finds whatever it is he is seeking and that the rest of his days are no worse than good.
As for me, well, I begin again.