My Secret Garden
So when I first began this blog last November, I decided to keep it on the down-low. I didn't know how I was going to feel about the entire project, so I figured if it turned out that I was churning out nothing but boring drivel, at least I would be the only one to witness it. I did not inform my family, or friends, and I almost didn't even tell Hubba-hubba.
I told myself, "Gina, this is just a creative excercise. You love writing, you always have, so what could be better than writing your own little opinions in an essay format? Even if no one ever reads it but you, that is ok."
Then I began writing. I told only a very few friends, and still didn't tell my family. Those of you that read this blog know that I don't use this blog as an outlet for family-related angst. But I was trying to figure out the other day why I, who have no problems announcing to them a million personal issues, still haven't told them.
I think it is because I share so much with my family that I want this little corner, this little piece of the vast internet, all to myself. I am not sure that they would be shocked by anything I write, in fact I think my sister and my father would probably enjoy most of it. Perhaps it is because I spend so much time with them that I feel I need something that they don't know about. They certainly know about everything else in my life. The other day I told them I was looking for postcards and they were curious as to who was going to recieve it. I got a bit of a pathetic thrill in them having no clue about my "double" life. They think they know me so well, and here they have no clue about what I am doing.
Yeah, ok, so I never said I had it all together, my friends.
Sometimes I feel like I am in the story, "The Secret Garden." I loved that story as a young girl, and it is so easy to cast my family into the role of the crusty, yet ultimately loving father. I am perfect as the crabby little girl with a good heart. Hubba-hubba can step nicely into the country hick character who is wise beyond his years. There are more similarities there than I probably realize. And so far Mr. Personality only really fits into the pet crow character, but I'm sure he'll evolve one day soon. And while I am missing the key invalid cousin, the analogy of my blog to the beautiful garden locked behind a high wall works pretty well for me.
The vexing part of the whole thing is that eventually the father finds out about the secret garden. He barges in on them in the height of their fun, and essentially demands to know what the hell is going on, and why hasn't he been told about this. But in a nice way.
Yup, that'll be my family for sure.
I told myself, "Gina, this is just a creative excercise. You love writing, you always have, so what could be better than writing your own little opinions in an essay format? Even if no one ever reads it but you, that is ok."
Then I began writing. I told only a very few friends, and still didn't tell my family. Those of you that read this blog know that I don't use this blog as an outlet for family-related angst. But I was trying to figure out the other day why I, who have no problems announcing to them a million personal issues, still haven't told them.
I think it is because I share so much with my family that I want this little corner, this little piece of the vast internet, all to myself. I am not sure that they would be shocked by anything I write, in fact I think my sister and my father would probably enjoy most of it. Perhaps it is because I spend so much time with them that I feel I need something that they don't know about. They certainly know about everything else in my life. The other day I told them I was looking for postcards and they were curious as to who was going to recieve it. I got a bit of a pathetic thrill in them having no clue about my "double" life. They think they know me so well, and here they have no clue about what I am doing.
Yeah, ok, so I never said I had it all together, my friends.
Sometimes I feel like I am in the story, "The Secret Garden." I loved that story as a young girl, and it is so easy to cast my family into the role of the crusty, yet ultimately loving father. I am perfect as the crabby little girl with a good heart. Hubba-hubba can step nicely into the country hick character who is wise beyond his years. There are more similarities there than I probably realize. And so far Mr. Personality only really fits into the pet crow character, but I'm sure he'll evolve one day soon. And while I am missing the key invalid cousin, the analogy of my blog to the beautiful garden locked behind a high wall works pretty well for me.
The vexing part of the whole thing is that eventually the father finds out about the secret garden. He barges in on them in the height of their fun, and essentially demands to know what the hell is going on, and why hasn't he been told about this. But in a nice way.
Yup, that'll be my family for sure.
Comments
And what a great analogy!
In hindsight, I wish my blog was more of a Secret Garden.
I easily gave out my babyCadeau.blogspot.com address to friends and family because it was all innocent and cute fun, but when I started untanglingknots, I wanted it as a more annonymous outlet to spew out and sort through my feelings.
My mom ended up finding my new blog because I had some sort of refering link thing in my old pregnancy blog, she clicked it, and saw it was me...so any chance of writing what I really wanted to say went out the window. I love my family, but there's just some things I wouldn't be comfortable voicing knowing they're reading.
Sarah btw, nice to meet you.
I have listened to it many times over the years and never tire of it. Mary Colin and Dicken became dear friends and their Secret Garden filled many hours with magic for Lady Bug and me.
We all need those secret places to call our own don't we? That is where the magic is.