No, It's Not About You
An Open Letter.
I had various blogs throughout different stages of adulthood, most of which I never stuck with. I finally started blogging more consistently in 2013. At first, the idea of the blog (then called Context of Things) was to take complicated issues, like whatever the hell a “debt ceiling” is, and break them down into easier-to-understand parts. I did some deep dive posts back in 2013 on hard-to-grasp topics, and I’m proud of some of those posts, for sure. Over time, I started writing more about work and a little bit about true crime, which is a fascination of mine. I got noticed and found more for those things in the 2013 to 2015 period.
At the same time, I was living in Minneapolis and struggling with adult relationships and why I was even in Minneapolis and various wedding and birth arcs of friends of mine, so sometimes I wrote personal shit. I think the first time this ever intruded in my actual day-to-day life was sometime around April of 2014. I lived in Uptown Minneapolis then (ha), and used to go to this beer bar periodically. I forget the name of the bar now, honestly. I was also working a contract role for Teach for America and traveling as a result of it. So, one Monday, I had just come back from Memphis (ha) and my wife (now ex-wife) had just come back from New York City and seeing some of our friends. A few of them had mentioned my blogging to her. My ex-wife and I end up getting in this huge fucking fight that night. For time/space context, this was the night of the 2014 NCAA Men’s Basketball title game, I.e. UConn over Kentucky. I was in a bad place that night.
What was funny about the fight was (well, nothing was funny per SE) — all the people who had been complaining to my ex- about some stuff I wrote? None of what I wrote was actually about them in the least. And this theme has perpetuated for years at this point.
So, just to be clear quickly: insofar as you care, and you shouldn’t really, but almost everything I write is in the aggregate. Entitled moms? Seen that 25+ times. It’s not about you. (My own mom was entitled too.) Shitty male friends? Literally scholars go online and talk about “tragic levels of alienation” among modern males. I’m not specifically discussing you.
Now, have I brought in specific stories in what I write? Absolutely. I’ve used names here and there, but oftentimes those names are changed.
Something like this is a good example of how I write about things.
In that article, you have a few things going on.
Above all, it’s a bigger discussion — a topic I think a lot of people struggle with and bounce around on. I want my friends to see my kids and see I’m doing well, but how much is too much? That's how I select the idea. It seems like something that a lot of people care and wonder about. Maybe people will read my small part of that universe.
I try to then bring in some discussion and debate from more-vetted sources. I am just one fat, mostly-useless person on the Internet. Just reading my hot takes would not mean much to you.
I frame most of the story in the aggregate, based on probably 150+ interactions I’ve had with families and moms and dads and grandparents online since 2004.
I bring in one specific story about a couple I know, but don’t mention their names — and I try to present both sides of the story involving them.
Some people hate that approach. To those, I apologize.
However, I look at it like:
Bigger topic
Some research
Broader thoughts
Quick personal anecdote/story
That’s about me and my own shortcomings/failures/attempts at growth. So, I bag on myself too (a lot, actually).
Back in 2018, I had been dating my wife maybe nine-10 months. I went to a Father’s Day meetup at a bar. I was about a year removed from being divorced. While I was into my girlfriend (now wife), I generally had “sold” the idea of biological fatherhood at this point, because I got divorced at 36 and figured my window was shot. Years later, my window is still apparently shot, but for different reasons.
Anyway, so much happened at this specific meetup. Multiple couples had a newborn. The women sat on one side of a table and bitched about the men; the men sat on another and talked about golf. One of the moms (women) asked her husband to take their newborn son to the bathroom. The husband (man) barked back, “No. It’s MY day.”
I wrote about that story once. It’s so fucking long ago that I can’t even find or remember the link. But, when I wrote about it, a few people at those tables went nuts on me. Even though I hadn’t mentioned any names, people felt violated. So, I apologized to everyone involved, and I considered that arc a little bit more.
In reality, that story is an amazing encapsulation on the pressures of relationships, what newborns bring into relationships, gender dynamics during social outings, how little men can actually say to each other, etc… these are powerful things that people think about often. I think it’s OK to write about them if you’re not listing people’s names and home addresses as you do so.
About six months ago, I reconnected with an old college friend of mine. Good dude. Great dude, even! Well, he knows a girl I used to be super close with, and by “super close” I mean (a) no, we never had sex and (b) the last time we had a lengthy conversation was probably 2006. I wanted to see or know what this girl was up to, so I asked my newfound, reconnected college buddy to give me her number. He did, and I texted her three times. No response. I gave up. Clearly this chica does not want to hear from me, or is too busy to deal with me. Done and dusted.
I mention that to my reconnected guy friend and he says, “Oh, she’s probably worried you will write about her.” That hit home! Well hey, I just did write about her — although it took about six months. And I didn’t mention her name, or say anything shitty about her. I just used it as an example of how friendships are chapters, people lose touch, and that’s all OK. Is that so bad? Now, if I gave you her name and city and who her brother is and what she does for a living (all of which I know and thus could), would that be bad? Sure.
In this specific case, it’s just a nameless and faceless anecdote to a bigger story of what it’s like to navigate friendship in adulthood.
I don’t see the foul. But some do, and I apologize to them.
Bottom line: random stuff triggers people. Tons of stuff triggers me. I’ve even written about that!
If you see something I wrote and you think it’s me spilling your tea on some random website, just hit me up and ask. There’s a 99.99999% chance it has nothing to do with you.