What Do You Care What Other People Think?

I read Surely You're Joking Mr. Feynman while I was in college, shortly before/after the movie Infinity (about his life and quite good marriage) was released. (Shockingly, the movie wasn't as good as the book!) I found it highly entertaining and was surprised by the level of humor; physicists, as a whole, don't make me laugh. Einstein has surprising insights and makes me say, "Ooh," on any number of occasions but I don't think I've ever actually laughed at any of his statements.

The point, the point, what's the point you ask? Mrs. Feynman would say, in the movie quite a lot, "What do you care what other people think?" whenever Mr. Feynman would complain about the opinions of others. I have thought about this phrase a great deal; Robert says I care far too much about what other people think. This is at the fore currently because my blog has been "discovered."

When I first started this blog, it was at the request of Alexa. She had started a blog and invited me to read. It was lovely to know what was going on in her life and her insights into life in general; she is an excellent writer. She, then, suggested that I start a blog of my own so she could stay updated on my life. So, I did. In the beginning, it was just me and Alexa. To say I was timorous would be an understatement and I have certainly vacillated over the last few months between boldness and wanting, fervently, to press the "delete this whole blog" button.

But...I love to read what I write. A narcissist I may be but I'm owning it. I will look at my blog several times a day, reread posts that I have written and sometimes just gaze at what I have created (unlike chores which have to be repeated daily). Part of being a narcissist is that I need others to agree with me and praise me; I want others to stroke my ego and tell me that I am a brilliant, funny, wonderful writer. (Please, if you're laughing out loud at that, don't share in the comments and burst my bubble.) So, I started branching out. I sent my blog address to some friends - none of whom lived nearby, most of whom didn't even bother to read. Then I started commenting on random blogs that impressed me and I, shocked me all to hell the first time I did, got a few comments from other people.

Now, however, I've really come out of the closet and handed out my address to several friends in my local community. Part of me is so excited to be reading their blogs and having them read and comment on my blog - it's nice to share things other than, "Hey, my daughter threw up on me last night." Part of me is terrified. It's easy not to care what Suburban Correspondent thinks as she lives on the east coast and I don't even know her name (really, I know parents can be cruel but Suburban seems like a particularly mean first name). It's harder not to care what Shelby, Maryann, Monica, Carrie, Lacey and Gina think about me. It's harder not to worry if I offend or if someone will become concerned by some of my more liberal views. It's just harder to invite my own back yard into my heart as the possibility of rejection or hurt becomes much more real. I read recently that a turtle only moves when it sticks it's neck out; this, my friends, is why I'm a mouse.

So, (deep breath), I'm posting anyway and I want to be just as brave and bold on my life thoughts as I am on my daughter vomiting thoughts even though my town is reading, not just the world. Good luck to me.