People are given pseudonyms in the blog world or they are not. It all depends on the blog. My friend Lisa, found in the blog world after which she found me on Facebook is completely transparent. I like that about her; she's willing to put it all out there without a screen to hide behind. When she still had a political blog she may or may not have used her name but she was still easy to track.
When I started this blog in January, 2007 I didn't really use pseudonyms initially. Alecto was always Alecto but my name showed up now and then. I don't know what had me change that but all assignments were in place by June of that year.
Nomans was called Nomans because of an incident when Cletus and I dragged an exceptionally heavy mattress from the first small moving truck to the master bedroom by ourselves. Borrowing a line from Sex and the City, we laughed and said we didn't need nomans. Nomans was out fetching food and water and while we could have waited, once I decide I want to do something I'm not very good about waiting around for help. Given the humor associated with the name, Nomans became Nomans. Much later, when everything was gone, he lost that name because he was no longer that person. He was just David, no more trackable by that name than by Nomans. If you wanted to find any of us and have the correct archives well then you can certainly do that. It was never so much an issue of being unfindable as having pulled a curtain.
I've thought a great deal about why I have that curtain pulled and I'm fairly certain it has something to do with allowing me the freedom to be so brutally honest. A woman commented in her own blog that I was the most emotionally honest blogger she'd read. At least three of my readers have made the same observation. Why is it public? I used to think, and maybe it started out this way, that I was only writing for myself. The gradual realization that I was writing to people, known or unknown, is because I need to tell things and I, like the rest of the human race need to be heard and occasionally understood. The thing is I'm a fairly private person in my life. I'll still share a great deal of personal information but I am aware that speaking of these things masks what I don't want to be seen; the places where I am most vulnerable. It is a very rare thing that I actually reveal myself. That's not safe. I've collected enough scar tissue in my life I am unwilling to show myself. It just looks that way and I am left alone with a few minor exceptions where people have gone digging like a terrier after a rat.
NM is a digger and if he's not getting what he wants it can be a little unpleasant for me specifically (because I do NOT do well with that sort of thing), and sometimes frightening if it's coming out of anger or a sense of entitlement or judgement. I'm not sure it was ever about entitlement but that's not something he'd be able to look at very clearly and I'm just not sure. However, I laid myself fairly bare and the relationship was built on a foundation of vulnerability.
Here is what I know about that sort of thing; what is seen is what the viewer expects to see, wants to see, and needs to see. The rest of it falls by the wayside and you become a montage of pieces and parts. This is human and we all do it to some extent. For me there was a base level of understanding with different color lenses slipping across the knowing. I didn't like the different color lenses because when I stopped and looked they were either extraordinarily frightening or just flat out confusing - but who of us can claim to be simple and easy to understand to the outside world when we often have trouble seeing ourselves.
I did not know the man. He did not know me. Each of us looked at or for what we wanted to see and fought the knowledge of the parts which didn't fit what we wanted to believe. I think this also is very human. He believed he knew me and when I stopped being that person in temporary circumstances the feedback was fairly immediate. Don't do that. Or, do this. Don't be that. Or, be this. I climbed into the box and did my damn best to stay there. In retrospect I think that was a very bad idea. The last time I was with him I'd already been utterly crushed but there I was anyway. I remember looking at his face and then directly at him and saying, 'this one percent of good outweighs the ninety-nine parts which don't work'. And I meant it but that doesn't make it right or true and to this day I regret having given myself away like that. That was my poor choice and not anyone else's.
Yesterday I stumbled over something that broke my heart. I remembered having that green jacket put on me to keep warm until he gave me my own. Seeing it put on someone else slammed a door shut and moved enough of the films away so that I could see one of the things that didn't work for me. I stopped seeing him the way I wanted him to be. He can't be NM anymore. That guy is long gone and I'm no longer certain what was real and what was wishful. I'm guessing if he can no longer spell my name, I've pretty much vanished as well.
I find that I am unwilling to show myself anymore; unwilling to take the risk.
This popped up in my Facebook feed this morning; the part of the feed which summons archived posts and you can repost or just let it be. The original date was May 1, 2012 which has some significant relevance in the timing. I was seven months away from being able to, on very shaky ground, step tentatively into another relationship. I was, on that day, finally able to see the lenses which got in the way of truly seeing David who was no longer worth hanging onto. The door slammed shut and the entire relationship was finally in question. We are partially who we say we are but much more what we do or do not do. I know and knew then that who he declared himself to be in the world was what he wanted to be. I am sure the same applies to both xxxx and me. It's time again to leave the pieces on the floor and move the fuck on.
I meant to go to Greenfield last night but Elizabeth no longer has a reason to go and I no longer have an obligation to get her there. I will miss my friends a lot. Maybe I will see some of them at Flurry but they are unlikely to show up in New York and certainly unlikely to show up at a dance weekend in the South, which is where I go. I've surrendered my home dance and I'll step into another. As his wife said a few years back after he'd left, 'going there is just too hard'. I got it then and I get it now. It's something he's unlikely to ever get, but that's OK. I don't need him to get it; I just need to be able to see more clearly.
Finally, I don't like having regret in my life. It took me a long time to stop regretting David and stop looking at the relationship like it was a mistake. I'd like to get past this place again, of horrible regret because while a great deal of what I believed turned out to not be true; I'd like to be willing and able to let someone in again. I'd like to be able to give myself away because I can remember what that felt like. I can't imagine doing it now but I've got history which suggests that I eventually heal.