Since starting Little Fickle, I made it a word dump. Between this place and my twitter, I publicise my entire life, and maybe it's only to a combined following of 9000 or so - I'm not exactly Zoella - but it seems sometimes there's a fair few eyes on my life. When things are going well, and I need support, this is great - it means I have a small virtual army who have my back, with their kind words and messages of encouragement. When things are going bad - I want to keep this place as open as it is and so that means I have to bring it and announce it to 9000 people. It's supportive, and in the end I'm always glad that I did it, but is living my life out online everything I made it out to be?
I started writing about my life when I was questioning my sexuality - it was a place that I felt that I could rant to, it was a place to let myself and other people know that I wasn't alone. It brought me friends, support and a sense of relief and so I did it again and again with all the big things in my life. Within minutes of coming out to my family, I officially came out online - when I was off work ill I wrote about my struggles. This place has always been for me, but as it slowly becomes for other people, and becomes such a piece of me that I don't want to leave it in the dark anymore, I've suddenly realised the enormity of the space that I've created on the internet.
Whether 4 people or 4000 people are reading what I write - it's there. My life is catalogued and dated neatly, every big struggle is written on the internet - and I'm proud of it, I want it there. But, when it takes one click to find my Facebook and a further four maximum to find my blog; I wonder if this will keep away people who might otherwise have been in my life. As you're meeting someone, finding a blog like mine can be the equivalent of getting a book of their history before you've even decided whether they're worth your time yet. It's something I've come to terms with - the fact that my life is on the internet is definitely something that is going to put some people off.
I get it though, I do - flick back a few months and you'll see my entire last relationship posted here, you'll see me cutting exes out of my life, you'll see me battling with a mental illness and somewhat recovering from it, you'll see my therapy sessions, what I've been reading, where I've been eating, what sex toys I've been trying and even what make up I've been loving. When I decided to be this open on the internet, I'm not sure I realised the enormity of the things that I was typing. My blog has helped me to survive, but it's also immortalised huge parts of my life forever. That's not to say that I regret writing them, I'm more than proud of what I've created - but it leads me to wonder, would I do it all the same knowing what I know now?
Mostly - this is just a post because I wanted it off my chest. I don't think I'll ever be a girl who doesn't put too much of her life in a public forum, I don't think I'll ever have a completely quiet sex life where I don't talk about the toys I love on here - I don't want to be that girl - but it doesn't stop me wondering whether things would be different if I was.