In the past two days I have written about my mid-week run, food, routines, other bloggers, infertility, changes to a schedule, social media and running socks.
All of them have ended in the trash can.
I haven’t quite figured out what is going on, but I wonder if my excitement over meeting my birth family, and my subsequent social media sharing (not to mention the overwhelming positive feedback), has got me a little gun-shy about hitting the publish button.
How much sharing is too much? How much information should stay private?
We have a saying in my house, “Sharing means caring.” This cheesy little phrase worked wonders with two-year olds who fought over a single toy. It still works when my four-year olds fight over the one Dora book found at the library, or when one wants to sing a song out loud (without her sister chiming in). Sharing makes things better. Sharing is kind. Sharing means you care.
Over sharing, though, is an invasion of another person’s space, isn’t it? Don’t we all deserve to sing a song alone? Should I really make Grace share her Dora book, considering she carefully searched for it alone, amongst all the other D’s on the kiddie shelf? I suppose, as adults, we have the right to click close if we take issue with another person’s position or voice. Do I really want to make another person feel that way, like I’m imposing on their space?
What have I gotten myself into with this blogging, then? Writing is sharing, and so I need to get over this hump.
A therapist I once saw told me that I see things in black and white. I struggle with balance (it’s the libra in me), so I often question myself when something goes too far in one direction. If something creeps way over the happy line, I get anxious and start looking for a little blackness to balance the white. It’s the same if something feels too dark. Not the greatest quality I possess, but part of the internal balancing game that makes me who I am.
Maybe if I take the advice I give to my kids, I won’t feel like I’m teetering on the Libran scales.
I am sharing because I care. I care about what I write. I care about the people who read my words, even people I don’t know. I share my thoughts because it is part of my journey, which isn’t black and white at all, but filled with the most beautiful shades of gray.