Somewhere in my head is a blog post about some things that are, naturally, close to who am I as a person. That blog post will likely be a rambling monologue, discussing depression, sexuality, relationships, and how my view of my world, and the world at large has changed and will continue to evolve.
But I’m still not ready to write it, not sure if I ever will. Such is the downside of being ‘known’, for not hiding myself behind an online persona. There are people who I just wouldn’t want to read what I wrote, not friends or family as they know me well enough. No it is the individuals who would judge, who wouldn’t understand, or who may take my honesty and openness as an invitation to think that we suddenly shared an affinity of some sort through some weird presumption that our experiences are common to one another (they are not).
I don’t make friends easily – I’ve said this before – but I do have many acquaintances. Most of the people I work with I’d consider to be an acquaintance, people who share a small part of my life but who, increasingly (and this is due to either age or seniority, I’m not sure which) I don’t want in the main part of my life. Some of the people I’ve met via this blog, or via Twitter, are definitely in that camp too, I keep my relationship with them firmly in the ‘online’ world.
Luckily I’ve also met some people online who I now consider to be my friends, I trust them and it’s only been recently that I’ve figured out why I am happy to consider some people as friends but not others, and it’s entirely down to my how I was raised by my parents.
Growing up my parents were always keen that I kept an open mind and that I should learn about something before dismissing it. I didn’t always follow their advice, but then parental advice is rarely considered in the immediacy of youth, but as a man I can look back and be thankful for the outlook it has given me. The ability to not judge someone, to at least try to understand – not necessarily agree, people who make that mistake irk me somewhat – is one that I share with those that I consider to be my friends.
What a funny word that is today in this modern world of ours. Friend. I digress.
I’m still more than capable of making bad, snap, judgements but I honestly believe in the following two, somewhat overused phrases “live and let live” and “life is too short”.
Of course this is all easy to say, harder to do.
Last year, towards the end of the summer I realised that I was feeding off the bile and ire of some of my acquaintances (online and off) and I decided I would do my best to, gently, remove those influences from my life. I rarely set out to hurt people, if ever, and whilst I can be selfish and short-sighted at times, there is never any malice in my actions.
But not everyone shares my view of the world, this murky grey mish-mash of emotions, thoughts, desires and wants. And neither they should.
I’m in an open relationship with an amazing woman, I’m comfortable with my lifestyle, happy with my sexuality, and whilst I have depression for the majority of days it behaves and stays locked in its box. None of this defines me, nor allows you to say you know me.
But then – and I’ve said this here before too – those that matter don’t mind, and those that mind don’t matter.