You Can't Say That!

I was having this conversation with a friend yesterday about censoring yourself and it kind of coincided with this project I’ve been working on for the last eon or so. Anyway, as I’m pretty sure I’ve told you before -- this is not my first rodeo. Or my first blog. But just so we’re clear, I’m just talking about blogs, because I’ve never been in a rodeo. (I’m digressing) So my project…the one that has taken me at least an eon, but I finally finished today ((gold star for me!!))…was to back up my old blog. You know, save all the posts & make sure I have copies of the pictures and videos & all of that before deleting it into the mysterious abyss of the internet. 

As I was backing it up, I started rereading old blog posts. This led me to rereading even older blog posts. (And now you know why it’s taken me an eon to finish this project.) And what I realized is that what I loved most about those old blogs & all those posts is that I didn’t hold back. I didn’t censor. And now? Well, I do it a lot now. And truth be told, sometimes it feels forced…writing a post like that. The ones that come the easiest are the ones that I don’t think about. I just sit down and start typing and whatever happens, happens. 

But somewhere along the way, between the last blog and this one, I started worrying too much. And yeah, for semi-good reasons because, let’s face it. I don’t like drama any more than the next person. But I got tired of people’s shocked responses -- omg, did she just say that? (Maybe.)...she doesn’t really cuss like a sailor on leave, does she?? (Yeah, she really does. Sometimes.) ….oh, you can’t say that! It’s not polite! (Well, actually…)

But I had this whole post going in my head yesterday at the commissary about how I don’t like talking to people while I’m at the commissary. I want to get my groceries and leave. And I’m very obvious about it. I don’t walk slowly…I am a woman on a mission: 1) put groceries in the cart, 2) pay for groceries, 3) get the hell out of the store. I don’t want some random person’s thoughts on why lunchables are the worst lunch choice for my children. And I don’t need the bagger’s opinion on feminine hygiene products. And sometimes when people feel the need to get chatty with me while I’m shopping, I feel like screaming at them. (In reality, I pretend like I don’t know they’re talking to me and I just walk off while they’re still talking.)

But instead of writing what I wanted to write, I censored. (And said it to my friend instead.) But I miss the old way of doing things. And the thing about it is that, yeah, when we filter we’re playing it safe. We tiptoe around so we don’t offend anyone. But really, someone is always going to be offended and you can’t please everyone. That’s kind of what I’ve been thinking about anyway. I kind of want to go back to the old way but I kind of don’t want people all up in here like “hey, lady, let’s talk about some manners…and you’re overuse of exclamation marks…and the word shit”. And I’d probably have to admit to how many times I give my kids lunchables to take to school because it’s easier than anything else. (But for the record, I make them take some fruit too. I feel like that balances out the processed junk in the lunchable.) I don’t know. Maybe I’ll keep censoring. Maybe I won’t. I’m far too indecisive.