One of the hazards of writing on the Internet for a living is how everything will show up on a Google search. On a day-to-day basis, I’m mostly an open book writing about my opinions, my sexuality, my depression, and even my love life. My private life is private, but a lot of topics that other people consider private are the very things I write about daily.
There are times, however, when I regret being as open as I am. Not everyone is accepting; my openness makes me vulnerable towards people I barely know. I’m still human and I still care what people think about me. Sometime a girl wants people to get to know her good parts first and the rest of her human-being-messiness sl-o-w-ly. Nowhere is this more apparent than in dating — especially online dating, where as soon as you find out someone’s last name you Google it and make sure they’re not a serial killer. If a gentleman caller Googles me, there is lots to read. Imagine how an ordinary person feels about her employer finding her Facebook page and then imagine the guy who have a crush on having access to your id.
Yet, to a certain extent, blogging acts as a “douchebag filter” by keeping certain guys away. Recently I was chatting with a fellow I met online who I’d really been into until … well … he completely blew it before we’d even met. How’d he screw up so bad? He wrote to me in an IM conversation, and I quote, “But how could I ever date someone that if my parents Googled her, there is writing that she likes to be called a slut?”
How indeed. Our IM conversation, for your perusal, after the jump: Keep reading »