Like most people with the audacity to hop on the internet and share their writing every day, I get my fair share of comments from complete trolls -- especially if something I put out there starts doing really well. I've had people call me sexist (and even imply I'm queerphobic) for writing articles targeted at men who don't understand why women won't date them. I've had people tell me I'm shallow and fatphobic for talking about my ongoing fitness journey and singing the praises of an active lifestyle in general. I've even been shat on for so much as mentioning that my family was dysfunctional growing up.
None of that actually bothers me. I've got a thicker skin than most people would figure just looking at my tarty little face. Plus, I've come to feel that trolls are a sign that whatever I wrote must have hit home on some level. Random folks only get that freaking mad at people they don't know when writing touches a nerve. I will never understand what inspires people to completely ignore the writing and comment on the writer's appearance, though.
This morning, a random reader felt the need to mention what a pretty girl they thought I was, but they really wished I showed my teeth when I smile. After reading an article I wrote about racial identity. And I genuinely don't understand what makes a person crack their knuckles and type something like that all the way out. Like, what means? What am I expected to do in response to that sort of feedback? Scramble to change my avatar to a photo of me showing every tooth in my head like a God damned donkey? Who knows anymore.
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Now that I've had a bit of a respite post-NaNoWriMo, I find myself really missing creative writing. I went into this year's event wondering whether I even still knew how to write creatively, it had been so freaking long since I did it on anything like a regular basis. I had to force myself a little at first, but once the rust came off the wheels, it was just like riding a bike. Now I miss it. I definitely wound up remembering why I used to like to make up crazy, imaginary things in the first place.
I'd love to find a social media-style writing platform where I could share some fiction or poetry once in a while and actually have people be interested in it. I get that people can (and do) do that on Medium, but I don't see where that type of thing gets much of a response. I don't quite feel ready to be bundling anything creative into bona fide books yet, either, but I do like the idea of regularly posting a few new things somewhere they might find an audience. I'll have to shop around and see what's out there.
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I've been thinking a lot about friendship lately and wondering what exactly the term means to me at this point in my life. My social life has slowed to a trickle over the years, but these days, it's virtually non-existent. Much of that has to do with being in a relationship with a vital friendship element. Seth and I spend a lot of time together, and that seems to take care of what little social drive someone so introverted even has in the first place.
I used to have an active online social life, but I wouldn't even say I have that anymore. I outgrew an astronomical number of the people I used to call my friends and gave most of them the kiss-off years ago. Their complete lack of growth started depressing me to the point where I found it hard to focus on my own productivity and growth process. I haven't done anything about it yet, but lately, I've had itchy fingers when it comes to potentially getting rid of even more of my older friends. Recently, some of their ways have been getting under my skin and making it hard for me to feel connected to them.
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Since getting started on Medium and putting more writing out there that actually has my name on it, I've met many other people I admire and who genuinely inspire me. But I'm not really friends with any of them, as most people would define the word. We don't chat or talk one-to-one outside of the occasional Twitter or Facebook comment exchange, but that suits me fine. I don't think I have the energy to maintain any sort of ongoing social exchange anymore, even if it's just online. Whenever someone tries to establish that with me, I wind up feeling very guarded and almost apprehensive about holding up my end of things. I don't mean to be that way, per se, but I can't seem to help it. I have no idea what's wrong with me socially at this point.
By far, the most consistent complaint other people have had about me over the years is that I'm distant and hard to get to know, and I'd have to say it's a valid one. I guess at this point, that's just part of who I am. I'm just not the type of person who wants to tell someone all my deep, dark secrets (or listen to theirs, either.) I don't like gossiping or care to chat for hours and hours anymore. Don't even get me started on how I feel about people who want to talk on the phone or -- heaven forbid -- make an effort to see each other in person.
It's a struggle. I want to have friends and crave meaningful interaction on some level. But I don't. But I do. But I don't. I guess that's just life as a hyper-introvert who also feel very moved to share ideas, stories, and the like.
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