I am a semi-anonymous blogger. I say “semi” because while I use a pseudonym, I also have a picture of myself as my avatar. It wouldn’t take very long for someone from my “real” life to figure out from reading the content of my blog that the author is me. Besides the fact that I’m everyone’s “weird friend” and this blog reads like the inner thoughts of a stripper/rodeo clown, I have also shared facts about where I live, my family and my job (which, coincidentally, is not stripped-rodeo clown). I haven’t tried very hard to keep my identity a secret. Maybe if I just talk really low, like this guy:
I chose to be semi-anonymous because I didn’t want any friends or family members knowing that I have a blog. I wanted to be able to speak my mind freely and I know that a lot of my friends would judge me for that. My siblings don’t even have Facebook accounts, such is their need for privacy. They would think I was crazy for writing a blog. I know that a lot of people in my life would perceive my blog as immature and inappropriate, considering my profession. It just seemed easier to keep it from them, and I haven’t ever been tempted to tell anyone, apart from a select few that I can trust (Hey Ciara. My head still hurts from our crazy night.) I prefer to keep my blog a secret from everyone because then I can say what I like. Boobs. See?
I sometimes feel a little bit guilty, though. I read your blogs, where you share aspects of your life with such honesty and I feel like it’s almost not a fair trade. You guys don’t even know my name. I remember one blogger being so shocked when I told him that my name was not in fact Jane. I think he felt a little betrayed by the fact that he had been speaking to someone he had come to trust and then all of a sudden, he realises that he doesn’t even know my name. But hey, what’s in a name, right? A rose by any other name and all that jazz. Although there is this quote from the Simpsons…
Lisa: A rose by any other name would smell as sweet.
Bart: Not if you called ’em stench blossoms.
Homer: Or crapweeds.
Marge: I’d sure hate to get a dozen crapweeds for Valentine’s Day. I’d rather have candy.
Homer: Not if they were called scumdrops.
Disclaimer: My name is not Crapweed. Not even nearly.
I want to reassure you all that you do know me. The real me. In fact, you guys probably know me better than a lot of my friends do. And if you don’t, here are some basic facts:
I’m twenty seven, I’m a teacher, I’m Irish, I love owls and sea otters, I have a lot of pets, I like dancing (even though this) and bad karaoke, I’m very friendly, I hate the supermarket and bad drivers, I get emotional way too easily, I love astronomy, I’m obsessed with classic Simpsons, I have a great boyfriend and I like all things weird. There. Now we’re practically best friends.
I’d like to hear from you guys about this. Are you anonymous? Why or why not? What do you think the pros and cons of being anonymous are?
P.S. I just realised that I could literally be anyone to you all… Now I have to go fight crime while wearing an unnecessary cape and my underwear outside my pants. Oops, did I just write that? Looks like the jig is up.