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My excessive energy, extreme narcissism, and intense love of neon-colored spandex is both managed and fueled by my addiction to fitness. I push myself to extremes and I push other people's buttons. Obviously I needed my own blog.

Sunday, January 5, 2014

Boundaries on the Interwebs

This post isn't about fitness so if you're looking for CrossFit selfies or blurry photos of the Central Park loop, check back later this week.


Over the years I've waffled between revealing intimate details about myself in posts and focusing more on the workouts. Sometimes my workouts helped me deal with whatever crazy was going on in my life and it felt relevant to share the situation. Other times I shared photos of my boyfriend at the time, my family members, and friends. I generally ask before making someone a "character" in my In Shape Out of Mind tales, try to use nicknames, and if someone doesn't want their photo up, I'll take it down.

Yes, I voluntarily post about my life on the internet and it is a public site. I know that people I know read this and I could change the privacy settings or just stop writing if I didn't want people to read it. I have no problem with people reading about my life, but it makes me feel weird when they talk to me about it. I know some people might not understand this, but when someone I know texts me about something he has read on my blog, even if it's to congratulate me, I feel violated. It's like this is my internet persona and anything that happens in this space needs to stay in this space. When I feel vulnerable, I get angry, and there have been a number of times I've wanted to rip someone a new one because he or she has decided to talk about something from the blog in real life. Because it makes complete sense to start screaming, "Fuck you and your well wishes. How dare you try to offer me encouragement to my face you son of a bitch. I hope you crack your teeth out on the treadmill at Barry's Bootcamp!" Irrational yet true.

And things get weird when readers recognize people they know in posts. How about the time that a girl found out I was sleeping with her ex-boyfriend via ISOOM? Yeaaahhhh. How was I supposed to know she read the dang thing? It happened again recently when someone called me out on writing a paragraph about him and that people we knew had told him about it. I promptly revised the post but this has been nagging at me since. Part of me wants to say it's my fucking blog and if you don't like it, don't read it. Another part wants to make this a subscription by invitation only blog and limit it to strangers who email me. If I could block individual readers like on Facebook, I would do it in a heartbeat.

So I haven't decided what stance I am taking on including more personal details and feelings in posts.

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