This feels weird. Writing, I mean. Once again, I had no intention of leaving the blog for so long! I promised before that I would write a “final” post when I decide to quit blogging so that nobody will have to wonder what happened, and I will definitely do that. But I don’t feel like I’m ready to give it up altogether yet, so here I am.
I’m about to get really vulnerable here…
When I first started blogging, I had no idea that my blog would gain so many readers. I had actually been writing for 11 years at that point, but I switched over to the Blogger platform because it was much easier to add pictures than the platform I’d been using. I basically wanted to document my struggles and triumphs in regard to my weight and running goals. (I didn’t know that Blogger would make me more noticeable on the internet. Having a handful of readers at the time was comfortable for me, as I’m an (ironically) private person in general.)
 |
| The very early days of Runs for Cookies… so young and unaware of what was ahead! 😉 |
Later that year, I had a couple of big things going on–I was invited to be on The Dr. Oz Show to talk about my weight loss and I had skin removal surgery to remove the excess/loose skin around my abdomen. I remember signing in to blog one day and I saw that the page views had jumped from 100-ish to about 10,000 overnight! Rather than get excited, I was extremely anxious about it–why on earth are people reading what I write? Don’t they know I’m not a “real” writer? I can’t possibly write private or vulnerable things here!
I soon discovered that there were a lot of people out there going through the same things that I was, and it was great to have that support system, so to speak. And then I started to get a few negative comments here and there, about random tidbits I’d written, and they stung a little. I only ever had good intentions, didn’t speak badly about people, and stayed away from very controversial topics. Besides, 99% of the people I interacted with were so kind! I didn’t understand the negativity.
[Side note: I believe there is a big difference between “constructive criticism” and just plain rude or mean-spirited comments. I’ve received a lot of constructive advice/criticism over the years and I appreciate it–I’ve learned a lot of new things from commenters who are kind in offering their opinions/advice. The negative comments I’m referring to in this post are the mean-spirited and/or rude ones, where the only purpose is to hurt my feelings or shame me.]
Also worth noting: I know that by opening up a large part of my life here on the internet, I’m basically asking for some rudely-worded criticism. But I loved writing and meeting some amazing people and I tried to go with the “it comes with the territory” belief.
I was able to brush off the comments that were really ridiculous (“Don’t you know how much sugar is in grapes? You eat so many of them. You’re going to get diabetes.” I actually got several comments about eating too many grapes, and those comments were easy to laugh at. Actually, some of my friends will still banter with me about my horrific grape habit, ha ha.)
However, some of the comments were really hurtful. I found that it’s usually the comments about the things that I’m already insecure about that hurt the most–I began to wonder if everybody thought of me that way. (“I can’t believe you would let your kids have all of those sugary toppings on frozen yogurt. You’re teaching them your bad eating habits and they’re going to get obese too.”)
That, along with some other parenting comments, planted the seed that I was a bad mom, which led to questioning other decisions I made. If I wrote about something I was proud of, like throwing away the second half of a brownie rather than eating it when I knew that half was plenty, I was told, “That’s not something to be proud of, unless you’re proud of eating disorder behavior.”)
Because being a stay-at-home mom isn’t very common anymore, I have dealt with a lot of criticism from that. Jerry and I are very happy that we made that decision 20 years ago, and we wouldn’t change it. Jerry feels good about supporting our family and I truly enjoy being a “homemaker”. I know it’s not for everyone, and that’s okay. We made the decision that we felt was best for our family. There is SO MUCH MORE to being a stay-at-home parent than taking care of the kids, and the comments that told me I was lazy, worthless, and a bad wife made me upset. I have two absolutely amazing kids–people tell me all the time that Jerry and I raised great kids–and I like to think that my being a stay-at-home parent helped in that way.
There are people that can read comments like that and laugh them off or just forget about them… I wish I was one of those people.
 |
| As Mark would say, “Ain’t that the truth.” (If only I could flip a switch and do it!) |
As I was growing up, I can’t even begin to guess how many times I was told I was “too sensitive”. I admit it–I’m a sensitive person! [Note: That is *not* to say that I get offended easily, however. It’s actually very difficult to offend me. When people are joking around or they are friends of mine or bantering, etc… it’s great to laugh, especially at myself!] But when someone wants to hurt my feelings, it’s (unfortunately) very easy to do so.
I care so much about making people happy and when I feel like I disappoint them in some way, it makes me feel really bad about myself. [Note: I know this is more about me than the other person and I need to work on my self-confidence and all of that. Comments from strangers should not affect me like this. I recognize that. But I can’t just snap my fingers and make myself into someone that I’ve never been.]
Through the years of blogging, I’ve read a lot of not-so-nice things about me. The first few times you read something negative about yourself, it can be fairly easy not to put much thought into it. But reading it over and over for years began to take a toll on me. I still loved writing (I have met so many amazing readers and friends due to my blog) but my self esteem was taking a hit with each mean-spirited comment, even though there weren’t many of them.
One day in August of last year–I remember it like it was yesterday–I had a couple of negative comments and reading them at that moment just kind of broke me. I was still going through The Worst Year Ever and was feeling about as low as I could get; reading that I was a “lazy wife without a real job” hit me like a punch in the stomach. The timing couldn’t have been worse.
My already-severe anxiety went through the roof. I wondered if everybody thought I was lazy and forced my husband to work like a slave just so I could sit around and watch TV and eat bonbons all day. And since I’d gotten comments before about how I exaggerate my feelings and that I don’t have “real” anxiety, I didn’t feel like I could write about it.
There are a lot of topics that I stopped writing about over the years for that reason. When I opened up one time about having too much empathy–I know that sounds weird, but it affects my emotions so hard that I wish I could turn it off sometimes–someone called me a narcissist. I’d wanted to write much more about it so I could describe what I meant and even see if anyone else had the problem, but I felt judged and too vulnerable after that.
I want so badly to have thick skin, to not worry about what others think of me, to stop trying to please everyone, and to live my life without apology! (If you are one of those people, don’t ever take it for granted. I envy you.) When taking a break from my blog, I felt like I could do what I wanted and not be judged or criticized for my decisions. Over the last year, my anxiety over writing has been really hard on me.
Right now, I have a big lump in my throat, my hands are sweaty, my heart is racing, and my stomach is in knots… all things that happen when I’m anxious. Out of all of the 3,681 posts I’ve written, this is the one I am most anxious about posting. I always planned to write something like this before I quit blogging–I hope that everyone reading this will see that words, even from strangers, really can hurt people.Â
When a bully started calling me “Shamu” in the fourth grade, I became extremely conscious of my weight… and I went on my first diet. I also started binge eating and eating in secret. I’m not saying that wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t been called Shamu; but I do know it was a catalyst for a lifetime of issues with my eating habits.
Again, there are people that can brush off comments like that; and then there is me… sensitive to the point that I begin to question myself in all parts of my life. And again, I know this is a problem *I* need to work on, and I am always trying. I’m not writing this to say a big “eff you!” to the people that criticize me (although I definitely want to sometimes); rather, I hope to give some perspective on how tiny words can make a big impact on someone’s life.
To end this with a positive note, I do want to say that I am SO thankful for all of the kind people out there. Just like hurtful words can make me feel bad about myself, the overwhelming positivity from 99% of my readers has kept me writing for the last 13 years. I don’t fish for compliments when I write, but a kind word never fails to take a little of the sting out of the mean ones. And while I am horrible about replying (I am so sorry about that), I do read and take to heart every single one of them. It’s not just the negative comments that affect me. I’ve gotten so much positivity through the years that my heart feels like it will burst sometimes.
When I started this post, I planned to just write a little about the last month or so–has it been that long?!–but all of this just spilled out. I think I’m just exhausted from holding it in all the time.
Anyway, I hope to write again soon. I’ve had an eventful end to the summer–including my first airplane flight since 2019!–so I will try to give the CliffsNotes version when my stomach isn’t it knots 😉Â
Now, I’m off to eat some of the diabetes bombs grapes that are on sale for 99 cents a pound!
