My Family Doesn’t Know About My Blog

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It is odd to think that it been nearly a year since I launched Cece’s Voyage. Admittedly, I have fallen off the posting train a few times, but for the most part, I’ve done pretty well.

I have a confession to make.

My family does not know about my blog. And by family, I mean my sisters, cousins, in-laws, etc. My best friends know about it and sometimes call me with comments about something I wrote. My husband knows it exists, as I often say, “We can watch Netflix after I post this real quick.” I have not invited him to read the blog.

That’s crazy talk. I know!

This morning, I looked at the number of followers I have—thank you all—and I realized I only know two of them. I have approximately forty-five first cousins between both sides of the family, and I only have eighteen followers.

Why am I not leveraging the massive resource that is my family?

I have twenty-two co-workers in my office and many more that I communicate with on a daily basis. Again, none of them know my blog exists. Yet most of my co-workers have watched me raise a teenager, get married, graduate from grad school, and have a baby. I grew up there. They know about most of what I blog about, albeit from a rose-colored happy lens.

My initial thought was obviously I’m afraid to be real with people, which is sooooo not true. I don’t run around telling my business but once I start I’m an open book because I lack the filter that says, “Hey that’s TMI.” Or “Oops, that was an inside thought.” Okay… so I don’t lack a filter per say, but it’s definitely on a thirty second plus delay.

So why don’t  I post my blog on Facebook or invite my family and other friends to read it?

Then the truth hits me. I’m less afraid of strangers judging me than I am of family and coworkers. Hearing my problems is less permanent. People forget about your depression when they are facing their own. But reading about it? Once it’s written it’s permanent. Forever. It can be referenced.

Also, writing has always been deeply personal for me. Poems, journals, stories… very few people in my circle have ever read one of my poems or stories. I’ve submitted poems to countless journals, but I can count on one hand how many close associates have read them.

I am afraid that the role of cousin or sister I’ve created will be shattered. I am afraid that the people closest to me will finally see Cece. Dreams, growth, vulnerabilities, flaws and all. I am afraid they will judge me for daring to have a voice and for continuing to vocalize my many many strong opinions.

You see, while I believe my vulnerable bits and personal growth can be a resource to a total stranger, my paranoid brain insists they will be nothing but a glass door to those closest to me, inviting criticism and unsolicited advice.

Truthfully? Who cares?

Basically, these are excuses. An excuse to keep myself small and manageable. An excuse to maintain the enigma persona I’ve held for most of my life. An excuse to keep everyone and everything on the outside unless invited.

Not telling my family about my blog is about control. Oh, how I love to maintain control. However, if my main goal for 2019 is follow through then removing limits should also be included. After all, small expectations equal small results. And fear only breeds more fear. And if I can invite total strangers into the dim and quirky recesses of my mind, then logically I can invite family as well.


Maybe I will just start with the hubby…