Just how much information on the WWW is TMI? (No more acronyms going forward, promise.) After reading the latest blog horror story -- in which a mom outlandishly admits to the world at large that she prefers her son over her daughter, and then some -- I've been thinking about the big reveal and wondering if honesty really is always the best policy, at least insofar as it relates to the Internet.
While Twitter and Facebook have arguably tightened the e-community, the social networking twins, no doubt about it, have brought out the narcissist in all of us, from the constant shameless plugs to the most mundane minutia. (Seriously, I know you've all witnessed the cringe worthy I'm Eating This status updates, too.) I'm as guilty of navel gazing as the next person, possibly even more so. I've often ran off at the mouth about things I probably shouldn't have, or wouldn't have, in a saner moment.
Countless times I've opened the closet on my dark materials and talked about just how effing tough motherhood has been for me so far. I've talked about depression and colic and many more ugly-as-sin topics on LGO. Mainly, I'm proud to do so because I feel it's not only therapeutic for me to give those demons a good run every now and then, but because it's equally therapeutic for you to read it and occasionally nod that you really do 'get it'.
But let's face it, some thoughts are just too dark, even for the web. Some dirty laundry is best left to fester in the basement, or at the least, aired out where it belongs: between the four walls of a psychotherapist's office. Will I live to regret some of the confessions made in the public domain under this domain name? Possibly. No, probably. Still, I would hope there has never been any doubt about how much I love my son, ever.
Writing for the web, though, somehow doesn't feel as real as writing for the printed page. Don't know about you, but paper just feels more indelible and final. Yet I know I'm kidding myself, and that the Internet may be even more dangerous due to the sheer numbers. Once those words are released, there is no catching or retracting them. The end result is instant, occasionally incendiary and nothing short of pandemic -- think Tiger Mom. Rather than feeling the need to write a follow-up 'justification post', perhaps the aforementioned horror story mom (and any blogger for that matter) would do well asking herself the following questions: Am I ok with my kids reading this now or in years to come? And my parents? My third-grade teacher? My neighbour from three doors down? before pressing PUBLISH.