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Finding a post about oneself on another person’s blog is most decidedly an unsettling experience. I’ve been there. I’ve seen the links show up in my WordPress.org control panel, popped off to investigate, and then felt my blood run cold while reading what someone else wrote about me.
Most recently I felt that dismay after reading this post. I wanted to leave a defensive comment on the original author’s blog. “Autumn?” I wanted to shriek. “It’s not autumn! I’ve not yet begun to write! You don’t understand! You’re wrong! So very very wrong!” But that would have been immature, not to mention disrespectful of his right to express himself as he will in a perfectly legal manner in his own space.
Instead, I wrote about it here, using the exercise to organize my thoughts and to encourage myself to do better in the future. I considered that perhaps the author had a point. I weighed the evidence. I stepped outside of myself for a tiny fraction of a second (so nearly impossible to do, I know!) and pondered how others might see things.
This, my friends, is what mature people do. They take criticism as an opportunity to reflect on their own behavior and then make improvements. They know that others see things differently, and that others are allowed — even encouraged! — to think and write freely about their opinions. Mature people know that if someone levels incorrect criticism at them, it rolls off the back while causing nothing but momentary discomfort, at worst. Or even just a chuckle.
The above suggestions are just a few possible reasonable responses someone might choose after finding out he’s been written about on someone else’s blog. There are other options. That person might, for example, choose to leave a comment written with a mix of anger and crocodile hurt which only reinforced every perception the blog’s readers (and I) had already formed about his actions in departing from the marital abode. That person might send nasty email to his ex in the same tone. He might rant on the telephone to her. He might threaten to expose my full name and address in the comments in retaliation.
That person might defend his actions yet again to his ex, even though the ex had nothing to do with the creation of the post. He might hope to make the case that the blog entry both failed to state “the truth” about his situation while also giving out too much information about him — ignoring the fact that I altered, obfuscated and otherwise left out details for the very reason that they could have been identifying.
He might demand that I remove the post, which he did. And I did close access to the post in question. I did this for the sake of my friend and not because of any feeling of wrongdoing on my part, or out of fear of his impotent threats.
The fact of the matter is that I’m allowed to observe situations and write about my reactions to those situations. I’m allowed to fictionalize details that I feel might identify myself, him or any other players. I’m allowed to maintain the reasonable hope that when a relationship ends, the person who ended the relationship will stop reading the blog of his ex-spouse’s friend. If he cannot help himself, he should at least be very quiet about it, so as not to give the appearance that he’s checking up on his former spouse’s activities.
Our whole lives through we enjoy thinking of ourselves as the heroes in our own small dramas. We need to feel ultimate justification for how we act. Did we do something that we wouldn’t want others to do unto us? Perhaps…but we tell ourselves that we had very good reasons for doing so. This is how we keep getting out of bed every morning, is it not?
But sometimes even the very best of heroes screws up. He makes decisions for reasons of his own — reasons which I don’t judge — but then carries out those decisions in ways visible to others. This leaves the actions open to comment, to criticism, to notice from other people. And sometimes their comments are hard to hear.
They say that the truth hurts, but the opposite is equally apt. Read something about yourself on someone else’s blog that hurts?
Then it’s probably the truth.

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