One of the most difficult things about blogging, for me anyway, is the hiding.
I can't talk about my blog. Jason mentions it from time to time ("How's that blog thing going? Still enjoying that, hon?" Yeah). I can't talk about it at work, for reasons which are probably apparent. It took me forever to even mention it on an MSN board to which I have belonged for five years (and they already knew anyway). My sister knows, and reads, but no one else in real life. No one. That I know of anyway.
So I'm talking to Big Jim on Tuesday and he says, "I cannot imagine someone knowing you, really knowing you, and not knowing that you write."
And that was all it took, you know? I was crying. Because that? Hurts like hell.
Because it's so true.
Imagine the best thing in your life. The thing you love. The thing that makes you happy. The thing that brings you peace and joy and fulfilment. And then imagine you can't share it with anyone, because you know they will be critical and negative and ruin it for you.
It sucks just as much as you might imagine.