On Blogging and Anonymity


I started blogging because I was in Yemen, bored out of my mind, and wanted to reflect on what I was seeing and feeling. Well that and I wanted to let some of my friends know about what I was experiencing and thinking about various issues. (not that my perspective was a surprise to any of you)


But I feel like the more I’ve done it, the more I have found myself censoring what I write, what events I relay and how I relay them. Good thing? (Well just in case I want to hold public office someday, perhaps).  But at the same time, it feels a bit weird.


I’m tired of self-censorship.  I don’t feel like I have full anonymity (and of course I don’t since I gave about 10 people the link to the blog in the first place )  but now I sometimes wish that I had it. 


There are chapters of my life and aspects of my own intellectual and spiritual development that I want to write about, want to hash out, but this space, my little piece of cyber space is not the zone to do it… or is it?  


I have no character damning skeletons, but I would rather that people that I know in a face to face fashion and read this blog or those that I know in a face to face fashion that might stumble upon it put the pieces together (despite the sometimes vague and purposefully slightly misleading ones) And figure out that its me, not know ALL of me.

At least not until my tell-all memoir comes out…lol…


Seriously there are things that I need to make sense of before I let others know about them. 


At any rate, all this is to say that there will be some password protected entries from time to time. 


That is if I can figure out how to do that on wordpress.   


5 thoughts on “On Blogging and Anonymity

  1. hey. i’m glad Hudda could help, she’s a sweetheart.

    i understand the limitations of writing your heart out when acquaintances/friends have your URL but u can protect or simply write elsewhere all together.

    on identity, the whole black vs. black b/c of skin tone or b/c of african/caribbean descent instead of descendants of slaves is true and quite tiring. in between constantly proving oneself and others making one feel like crap, sheesh, it can take a toll on one’s self esteem and even outlook on life. i first lived in the states, Maryland, when I was 6, for 3 years. But I was not aware of being Black because of the environment I lived in. Fast forward age 17 when I arrived for college and everything changed. I’m dark skinned, I had an accent, English was not my first language and I was just plain different. It took time and a lot of emotions to adjust but by graduation, I was comfortable in my skin and so proud of my roots that people could finally see that I was neither on the defensive nor was I feeling inferior. I was me and I took pride in being me. I knew I wouldn’t get certain guys [even though they were eyeing me hard but I was too different], I knew I was not cool, I did not speak slang and all but I was aloof abt it.

    my cousin Erika is the 2nd born of 3 children. Her mum has fulani blood so she’s fair and has some European features. Her son and youngest daughter look mixed whereas Erika ended up being dark skinned and with African features, hair, etc. But I’ve never seen someone who was so proud of herself and never even flinched or envied her siblings. She was pragmatic about it but she considered herself beautiful with a lot to offer. That inspired me.

    i guess once you accept who you are and determine who you wnat to be, the rest can be frustarting but becomes irrelevant.

  2. Gazelle,
    Yes I know I can transfer to wordpress . For some reason, I like Blogger better. It is easier to use, the only flaw is the password-protected feature that they’re lacking.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s