When I closed shop on Findingravity a year and a half ago, it was an emotional move. For five years, Findingravity documented my early twenties, my time living in New York City, and one of my most prominent long term relationships. It eventually became one of my most prominent breakups. Watching someone you love dearly move their half of three years out of your shared home hurts in a way I’ll never forget. And while the relationship wasn’t a failure, it was still disappointing to reach a conclusion that it also wasn’t really a success. We were young, coming from two separate countries, living in an arduous city, and our hearts were yearning for different things.
One aspect of the breakup that I had a hard time dealing with was how public it felt. Friends, family, and complete strangers suddenly had these opinions. Big opinions. On one hand, when you’re emailing a complete stranger on the internet to tell them they’re making a giant mistake about their life choices, you’re assuming the person on the other end of cyberspace wants to know what you think. On the other hand, sharing your life online (on purpose) doesn’t allow you a lot of privacy. When I tell my readers to email me anytime, I mean it. And you do. And most of the time it’s wonderful!
For the first half of my writing career I was transparent about everything. I actually joke when I start dating someone that if they want to go digging for my skeletons they can read about them online. I wanted each person to feel like they were getting the real me, and each piece to feel personal, as if we were kicking it at a coffee shop sharing a warm bevvie in a, “Sup, Homie?” kind of way. But Findingravity began to feel like a bit of a fishbowl, and five years ago while I sat at my computer wide eyed and eagerly pressing publish 3-4 times a week, I didn’t stop to think about how it might feel later down the road.
Now I feel proud. And brave.
But at the time I was overwhelmed.
I needed to set some boundaries.
I wear my mind on my sleeve and my heart in writing. Both make up my entire being. While I don’t have much to hide at this point in my life, setting some personal boundaries about what I will and won’t share on this blog has been pivotal in preserving some level of privacy, but even more so in choosing the new direction of this blog. I want to share my journey in a way that is focused and productive, because every subject line that started with “Why did you guys break up?”, every email that ended with “You seemed so perfect for each other!”, and every question that probed, “What HAPPENED?” inflicted self doubt on the choices I knew I had to make to be happy. If there’s one thing I preach day in and day out on this blog, is that you have to take care of yourself FIRST.
It’s really, really, really important.
The closing of Findingravity gave me a year and a half of distance, and the launch of The Renegade Rulebook finally feels like I’m writing in a way that reflects what I’ve spent the last five years building. So, guys, know that we’ll be pushing some serious boundaries on this blog together, but we’ll also be working together to set a few for ourselves.