There are two people I know who won't read my blog. So the good thing is that I can share this musing without fear of embarrassing either of them.
Last month my son turned to me and said, "Ma, I can't read your blog. I tried, but I just can't do it." There was no need for him to explain; I understood exactly why. It wasn't, Oh my mom has cancer and reading about it makes me too sad. I could have been blogging about baking cakes, he'd still feel the same way. It's the voice. He can't stand the artifice that is a component of any writing. No matter how true or real the expression, the written voice is crafted. Nor does it matter how many people may say to me, "I really appreciate how honest you are on your blog!" For him, any presentation of me, no matter how genuine, ceases to be truly me because it is an expression.
The other person who can't read my blog is a close friend and colleague. Although he tried to explain to me his reasons, what it comes down to - I think - is, My good friend has cancer and reading about it makes me too sad.
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