Here’s a pickup I blogged a while ago, from the Times Union. It’s lovely in the way a lot of the sites that picked up my essay have been, but I’m re-noting it now because it’s gotten some comments. It continues to blow my mind the way certain people view me in light of my essay. Everyone is of course entitled to his or her opinion, it’s just been kind of trippy to read that I am conceited, shallow, hypocritical or that I don’t sound fun to be with. Gah! I object! I am tremendous fun to be with!
Ok, ok, I’m digressing. Anyway, I can see where certain readers are coming from (and it’s important to say these kinds of comments are far fewer than the supportive ones, the readers who say the story resonated with them, which is of course my hope), and I’m glad people are responding regardless of what they have to say. But I thought it was kind of obvious that I am not HAPPY that I have walls up, that this is in fact something I am working on. Writing is a process that can elucidate the process we go through in life. My guardedness does not come from a place of superiority but extreme vulnerability. (Unless the guy’s a jerk, then yes, the other thing.) I find it so baffling to have my insecurity attacked. It’s a defense mechanism, people!
Anyway, this first struck me when AOL picked up the story and more than 500 people commented on it. This Times Union item reminded me of it.
The sun is finally out. Get out there and enjoy it.