The Man tries hard to support my love of blogging. Some days he’s successful. Others he is not.
It’s the nature of the beast, you see. If he does not believe in something, even if this belief is born out of ignorance, he will automatically dismiss it as something not important.
One might say this is a very self absorbed approach to life.
I’m inclined to agree with One.
The Man is one of these folk who do not consider things that happen online as “real life”. Now I can understand that people have come to form this view based on virtual reality stereotypes (e.g. gamers) but it is such a gross generalisation and it makes me feel quite stabby.
Blogging is my hobby, my time out for me. A creative outlet that would otherwise be repressed. The Man’s hobby? Watching copious amounts of football (he also has an unhealthy obsession with courtroom “reality” shows but we’ll leave that for another post).
About football he says: “At least it’s real.”
Real? Sure it may be real people who actually play, but it is only a game, after all. You may make some level of emotional investment in this game but what do you get in return?
Does the commentator say “You really have a good point there, Man!” when you yell abuse at the ref?
Do the players really care if you , The Man, watch or not?
Apart from losing a bet or hurting team pride, what are the stakes for you as an individual if the game is lost?
You are not playing. You are a spectator to someone else’s reality.
But blogging, for me, is a little different.
Sure we are both facing a screen, but when I blog I am not playing or watching a game.
When I blog I am a real person, writing about real events in my life. These events are framed by real feelings, to which real people who read can often relate, respond and we really CONNECT. Maybe even form a friendship.
How can you get more real than that?
Even when I read someone else’s blog, Facebook post or tweet, I can choose to be an active participant in their reality. They let me into their lives, they make me nod and smile, laugh and sometimes even cry. And I don’t have to be a silent spectator or just a cheering face in the crowd. I can reach out and really CONNECT with that person. Regardless of geography, race or team colours.
Sure, some bloggers may show the world a slightly glossier version of their reality, but me? Real as it comes.
So my dear husband, yes blogging is real and like it or not you’re married to a REAL blogger.
Does your partner understand your blog or hobby?