For a long time now, I've been wishing that this blog was anonymous. I want to be able to write things as they occur to me, without thinking of the social ramifications of what might happen if I wrote about them. And it sort of brings into question why I blog in the first place.
I love that I have this blog as a record of what has gone on in my life for the last 3 years. Even now, I read some of the posts from 2008 and realise how much my life has changed since then. What will it be like in another 10 or 20 years. So that's partly why I write it. To capture life in a diary. And sure, I could do that privately, but it's so much more fun to get other people's view on something you're experiencing, whether they agree or disagree. It's like having a global sounding board.
I also write it because I love to write. I had a conversation this weekend with two girlfriends (and I apologise to those girlfriends for referencing it here because I know they are uncomfortable with me regaling things that we might have discussed, even if they are not referenced by name. Another reason anonymity is good) and basically they, like many, many people, they don't understand why I blog. I think it's universally perceived as odd. A little weird. And during this conversation, I said that whenever I do anything I am constantly thinking in my head about how I would write about it.
That makes me sound awful. What about living in the now and enjoying life as it happens, instead of thinking about how you'll report back on it? It is truly messed up. But I can't help it. It's the way my brain works. As I see a beautiful sunset, I'm thinking about the words I might use to describe it. And if I see crazy people in London holding 'free hugs' signs, I'm thinking about how I might weave that into a blog post or story. (Dammit, I just used that one up.)
I don't necessarily want to be like this. I just am. Some people paint. Some take pictures. Others knit or bake or add up rows of numbers or jump off bridges attached to pieces of bungee cord. Different things make different people tick. I write about life as it happens around me. I write it in my head and if I don't get it out, my brain might quite literally explode.
And I wish I could write about it exactly as I feel it, instead of tempering it so as not to offend anyone or reveal to much or be too public (some might say I already am). Hence the reason I'd like to stop Home Office Mum and start fresh with a new blog where no-one knows who I am.
But there are downsides to that. It's nice to know that people read your blog. Call it massively narcissistic, but it feels great to know that someone somewhere in the world has read what I've written. I've got 41 people who subscribe to my blog. That's probably a paltry number by most standards, but that is 41 people who have actively decided to click and subscribe to my ramblings. To start afresh is hard. What about all the friendships I've made with bloggers? How do I let them know where I've gone to? Do I let them know or is that entirely defeating the object of the exercise of anonymity?
I'm in PR for God's sake. I know what it takes to build up a brand. And while my teeny tiny pathetic piece of blog real estate doesn't justify the word brand, it still has three years of history and credibility behind it. Starting afresh and anonymous just makes those three years disappear.
I'm in a quandary. Perhaps I shall leave this blog as it is and simply attempt to put all those words in my head into a different format. Like a book. Or perhaps I should use the anonymous blog I have already created but not posted to yet, to write about the occasional thing that I really need to get off my brain without anyone being the wiser. I can rant with impunity. Oh the heady freedom.
So fellow bloggers, WWYD?