I think it’s safe to say I don’t have a future in politics, and if the climate stays the same — where anything and everything from your past can and will be used against you or the person you love — then any future spouse of mine doesn’t either. For the last three years, I’ve shared a lot on the internet as the editor of The Frisky, as well as on social networking sites like Facebook and Twitter. Given what’s happened to political candidates like Krystal Ball (whose funny but racy Facebook pics were unearthed by her rival in a Virginia congressional campaign) and Delaware senatorial candidate Christine O’Donnell (whose fairly chaste sleepover with a guy three years ago was described in an anonymously penned expose on Gawker.com), people who would be out to smear me wouldn’t know where to begin with what I’ve willingly put on the web. Keep reading »
There are real downsides to writing about your life on the internet. For one thing, “sharing” — in the form of your deepest feelings or the most benign observations — starts to become a knee-jerk reaction every time something happens. A particularly awesome development on “Lost”? Tweet your reaction during the commercial break. Feeling inexplicably sad because the person you have a crush on doesn’t seem to give a s**t? Tweet “FMLFMLFML” and then pen a blog post about it the next day. Eventually you realize that your internal filter — the part of you that says, “I think I am going to keep this to myself” — has switched off. That’s what’s happened to me. Keep reading »
Lately I’ve noticed a number of commenters remarking or complimenting me on my willingness to “put myself out there” on The Frisky, sometimes scolding others whose remarks or jokes might end up hurting my feelings. The thing is, there’s very little feedback on what I write — i.e., about my personal experience or my decisions — that would bother me. (Criticism of how I write I’m more sensitive to.) Recently a fellow Frisky staffer asked me how I’ve learned to not care what people think.
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