The Blogger Bubble
“I don’t understand,” the mom says, leaning forward. Her eyes are full of confusion and doubt. “Why on earth would you want to homeschool?”
And I? Am stumped.
Not so much as why – but how to explain it to her. I want to tell her to hold while I type out a post or pull up an old one and then have her read it.
As I stumble my way through talking about it, I begin to realize we are on different pages. More so than she and I thought previously. Not bad ones. Not better ones. Just different.
This is one of the first times I’ve started to see how much of a bubble blogging can put you in.
I started this blog and found a community of women that tend to have the same ideals, values, thoughts, and lifestyles as me. Even when we disagree, or we do things different, they know enough of my history and I theirs to have a mutual understanding of the hows and whys in our decisions.
Real life? Face to face? New moms? Not so much.
At times, it still startles me to run into a mom who, no matter what I say, isn’t going to see my side of things. Because on here? Those people usually read and click off. I never even knew they found me.
So sometimes transferring the community I’ve found to voice my opinion and really find my niche can turn into me being very vocal on topics some people have no knowledge on or don’t want to talk about. I forget not everyone “gets” homeschooling or cloth diapering or being an Army wife. Or vice versa – I don’t understand why someone wouldn’t want to hear about how my husband is a recovering alcoholic, we nearly lost our home 3 years ago, and I had a rough pregnancy. I dive into details that make some people uncomfortable.
There is a fine line in all this. I’m proud that blogging has changed my voice from unsure to stable and strong these past two years, because I know there are women out there who deal with things I’m dealing with. But it’s crucial for me to remember that this tends to be a bubble, and if I believe in something, there are people who will ask why and how or just plain disagree with me. And I’ll have to give them an answer in that moment. One that needs to be carefully weighed with how we know each other.
However, in the case of the snobby millionaire moms at my last playgroup, nothing pleased me more than to inform them all that we were poor, renting, didn’t have a nanny, no housekeeper in sight, and haven’t taken a vacation in years. The look on their horrified faces as it sank in that they had actually spoken to me at one point (and let their child *gasp* play with mine) was worth spilling my guts, then never going back.
And I can thank this blog and it’s bubble for the balls to pull that one off.