Second lives.

I thought I would share something on this blog today that for a long time I have kept very separate from my primary existence, but it strikes me as odd that I do this – I tell the friends I make in Second Life all about my real life plans, hopes, dreams, loves and failures.

So, real life – meet my second one.

There is a blog project, called the3six6, which is 365 days as told from the perspectives of 365 people. It’s a great idea – our lives might all be quite similar on the surface but the intricacies of our days and indeed experiences are beautifully and wildly different.

But there’s an awful lot of people who don’t just have one day to talk about. And for them, thanks to the brilliant Trace Osterham, a Second Life friend of mine who Abbi and I hung out with for a day when we were in New York, there is twothreesixfive. And today, it was my turn.

I wrote about how I felt about the nature of the friendships I have forged within Second Life, and how they have positively impacted my first life. Second Life is a valuable commodity to me and the hundreds, maybe thousands of other people who are lucky enough to have such a diverse, creative job. But it’s more than that. It’s a rich fabric of experience and I am a better person for it.

You’re all a bunch of…

I got told off today for my language. Apparently, it’s bad.

OK, so yes, I do swear a lot. I’m not about to stop. I regularly call my best friends cunts. I say fuck this, I tell people they’re a cock. I only really censor myself when I’m working and that’s only because, well, it’s expected and I can respect that.

But, here’s my issue. I am told off for calling someone a cunt. It’s not in a malicious way, and in any event, even if it were they would have done something to deserve my ire.

What really annoys me though, is that the vast majority of people who criticise swearing wouldn’t even think twice about saying things that, when you consider them in detail, could be equally (if not more) offensive. I mean, people who would jump on you for calling someone “a fucking cunt” but wouldn’t think twice about saying “I’ll kill you”. Think about it. You’re saying it’s wrong to allude to sex and female genitalia, two things that are wonderful and amazing, but it’s more than fine to say that you want to murder someone?

A lot of what is deemed acceptable to say and what isn’t deemed acceptable seems to stem more from what we are told we should believe is wrong rather than what is actually logically wrong. Threaten physical violence – yes, absolutely fine! Talk about a penis… oooh, can’t do that I’m afraid.

I’m not in any way saying that we should all start to go around telling everyone to fuck themselves, oh no. But please, stop telling me off for doing it.

Different rules

When people write on the internet, I sometimes doubt that they realise the power of their words. Cardiff councillor John Dixon was recently pulled up for posting a tweet on his Twitter page: “I didn’t know the Scientologists had a church on Tottenham Court Road. Just hurried past in case the stupid rubs off.”

Personally, I think that’s hilarious, but that’s because I agree with it. Scientologists did not and made a complaint, ensuring Mr Dixon was referred to an ethics committee. I started to wonder whether people in the public eye are aware of how much they reveal online (I’m not talking dodgy photos, I’m afraid) and, more importantly, what is considered appropriate for them. Should there be different rules for them and for us?

Writing online as a nobody has its benefits but, as someone who writes on a blog, it is difficult to know how much of yourself to give away. Once you get your words down, they are out there, available for judgement and comment. This can be a scary prospect, especially as a commenter’s anonymity makes for good protection. Message boards are an excellent indicator of how feedback can get out of hand. I was tempted, recently, to sign up to a teachers’ discussion forum until I noticed threads where grown adults (teachers, I should remind you, as well) were hurling insults at each other for petty grievances, ganging up against others and shouting down anything they didn’t agree with. Did I mention they were teachers? Actually, now I think about it, that might explain a lot.

However, writing a blog can be a useful process. It can act a means of practising and honing your skills as well as providing a way to express ideas. It can also become a source of income or a rallying point for important issues.

For others, it is the only way to cope with a situation. An amazing case in point is http://tarquinchronicles.wordpress.com/. If you haven’t already heard about Justine Barrett, I suggest you look her up. Her blog is about Tarquin, a tumour doctors recently discovered in her brain and how she is dealing with the diagnosis and forthcoming operations. If you take the time to read it, her writing is full of honesty, small tragedies and dark humour. A great example of the latter is Justine having to explain to a nurse that the nurse’s gesticulations towards an eye chart will not help her locate it, as she is now blind in her right eye.

Reading blogs like this make me realise how lucky we are to have such a tool in order to cope with the various shit life throws at us instead of simply keeping it all inside and “getting on with it”, a process few find productive in the end. Justine Barrett’s blog has provided her with many positive reactions and support; it provides the reader with a bit of inspiration in maintaining resolve and humour in the face of horrendous situations.

Nevertheless, I cannot help but think that there are different rules for those that already exist in the public eye. Today, for example, was one of those days when I had to ask, “What were you thinking?” Andrew Cohen, who appears as a contributing essayist on CBS News, wrote a column, published online last week, in which he thanks and extols the virtues of the love of his life, who was sadly getting married that day to someone else. In it, he praises how she put up with him and made him a better person. It can be found here: http://www.politicsdaily.com/2010/07/24/on-her-wedding-day-saying-the-things-left-unsaid/. Now, on paper, that sounds like a sweet thing, but this was dedicated to her. On her wedding day. It has to be questioned just how appropriate this is, especially if it is presented as a gift. As Cohen said: “The present I humbly send her today is this column; this public note, this irrevocable display of affection and support and gratitude; this worldly absolution from any guilt or sadness she felt between the time she said no to me and the time she said yes to him.”

Another contributor took umbrage with this and Lizzie Skurnick posted a reply to his column: http://www.politicsdaily.com/2010/07/26/how-not-to-congratulate-your-ex-on-her-wedding-day/. In it, she points out that only congratulating your ex on how she did things that made you better as opposed to, say, mentioning some details about her, gave the impression that Cohen’s open letter was somewhat self-serving. She mentioned many other problems with his column, but I shall let you read that for yourself.

It poses a tricky question – how personal should you get? If people write blogs or columns to get things off their chests, this is a healthy thing to do. It can be entertaining and helpful, as well as perhaps reaching out and touching the lives of readers. The Chronicles of Tarquin is obviously a great example of this.

Andrew Cohen’s column is the perfect example of what should not be done. For one, it’s a column, not a blog post. This usually means national or even mild awareness of who you are, so you threaten exposing yourself, removing even more of what little privacy you still have. In this day and age of media intrusion, it seems odd for a public figure to willingly hand another piece of himself to the world. However, expressing thoughts and feelings is not a taboo. Columnists rail against their hates and proclaim their passions, daily, online and in print. That’s their job.

Unfortunately, I take the view that a person with a very public profile spilling out feelings of unrequited love is stepping a little over the line, especially when it’s essentially the online equivalent of running into a church and saying, “I object!” That is too much information to come from a public figure, even when he may have meant well. “Meaning well” is not protection from the power of your words. I’m sure Kanye meant well when he stuck up for Beyonce, but I bet he did not envisage having to grovel for forgiveness on the Jay Leno show whilst Leno asked Kanye what his late mother would think of such behaviour.

I also wonder how the love of his life would feel reading it. Would she take comfort in Cohen listing how she improved his life, or would she take offence that he was a) congratulating her on being a woman who does not focus on her career and b) granting her permission to be happy?

We can gain so much from being ourselves online. In it, we can find a freedom that can spill over into our real lives. We can discuss problems and find solace; we can share and communicate faster and better than ever before.

However, I’m still not certain if people in the public eye can afford to take such a risk when it comes to what they can divulge. If a celebrity is battling with a problem or trying to raise awareness, his or her revealing their true feelings on a blog or column can be a very positive thing. Those in the public eye have many things to consider, however. Though I agree with Mr Dixon’s sentiments about Scientology, what if he had been talking about Christianity, Judaism or Islam? It would have been a matter of resignation. It seems naïve of Mr Dixon to forget that, as a public figure, people are waiting for you to slip up and make a scandal out of it.

Most importantly, however, if a public figure is online to tell an old love and the world that she should feel free to move on with her life and thanks for everything, perhaps a toaster would be a better choice of present than a column on a heavily viewed newspaper site.

Everything is not as it appears

(Originally this was going to be a long discussion on the nature of Feminism in this day and age. However, in examining it, I have sort of stumbled onto a slightly more personal truth. Excuse this – I’ll be back to ranting in my next posts.)

Anyway. Have you ever come to the realisation that you are not quite the person you believed yourself to be? I don’t mean in a Scooby Doo-rubber-mask-reveal-the-villain way. Those sorts of events do not happen in real life, though it would be cool if it turned out that my local shopkeeper was masquerading as an evil gargoyle bent on sabotaging plans for a new supermarket. However, “Curse you pesky kids!” is something she would more likely shout at the ASBO wannabes who sling back White Lightning outside her store.

My point is that, recently, I have become unsettled. A news story of late has caused me to question something I thought fundamentally true about myself: that I believe I should look how I choose to look, that I choose to be who I wish to be.

Do not get me wrong. This is not about women overall, though I initially thought it was. I did not suddenly wake up and start chaining women to kitchen sinks or insisting they wear ankle-length skirts (I live in Essex – the latter would be a futile exercise in Chelmsford on a Saturday night, anyway). What it is about, however, is just how unaware I was of how my low self-esteem affected my life.

The first thing that triggered this train of thought was the discussion of the burkha ban in France (this has now passed into law). The response was mixed over here. Some took it as an affront to individual rights. Some welcomed it as a sign that women would no longer be subjugated in Islam. Some saw it as racist.

I am in two minds about this ban. Does it give women the chance to be free of this garment, or is the French government being patronising in assuming that all women who wear the burkha do so because they are forced to and not because they choose to? It poses the question of whether the French government is being any better in telling these women what they cannot wear as opposed to what they should.

In any case, this was side-stepped by saying it was a “security issue” rather than about the liberation of women. A comedian I adore seemed to agree. There was an interesting tweet by Jeremy Hardy who said that the whole “doing it for women’s rights” argument was bullshit because if we truly wanted to live in a society without stupid restrictions on women, we would ban hair removal cream, high heels and uncomfortable, dental floss underwear.

Now, as we live in a society where a recent poll of teenage girls indicted that some wanted to grow up to be WAGs, this may seem perfectly reasonable. However, I felt the need to object. I do not wear heels everyday or have stupid underwear, I said. I am a practical person. I felt resentful that men believed women were incapable of saying, “fuck off, those shoes are ridiculous!”, as if we truly were slaves to fashion.

Unfortunately, I found, to my utter dismay, that I was capable of totally disproving my own point. And, rather annoyingly, a pair of shoes was the cause.

I recently went shopping for a wedding and found a dress I liked. I was told I needed heels to go with them. I asked why and the person (female) with me said that the outfit wouldn’t look right if I just wore flats, that I wouldn’t look right. I insisted that I was more comfortable in flats. I like flat shoes. I think they look just as good but, most importantly, do not give me blisters or sprained toes (that did happen once – I had to take two days off work because I couldn’t walk). This was met with eye-rolling and I eventually buckled.

I am not saying the person was wrong in their opinion. In fact, I seek out her advice regularly for help with clothes. That dress with heels probably looks better, aesthetically. The problem is that I really did not want to wear them but I gave in. In that moment, I threw out everything I had insisted before, that all women are quite capable, if they choose, of saying “no, thank you” to the painful and idiotic things we are told are necessary.

Maybe many women are and do, but it turns out I am not. If I had any real backbone as a confident woman, I would have said, “You know what? I think some DMs will look amazing with this dress!” What’s happening instead is that I will wear a pair of shoes that will rub and annoy me for ten hours. I will go through Compeed plasters faster than Kay Burley will tear through someone’s vulnerable mind.

I spent some time wondering what brought about this decision. I do not often like to contemplate why I do things as it usually ends badly, a path that leads to the consumption of whiskey and the singing of Coldplay songs on Singstar until 2 am. However, after a few days, I have come to the realisation that I am still a feminist in my beliefs. I believe that women have rights that society often ignores, that we need to fight to ensure an equality we mistakenly think exists. The problem is not that I lack belief in women – it is that I lack belief in myself.

You see, I recently looked at my wardrobe and about 80% of the things I bought are in there because other people told me they looked good, not because I necessarily liked them. My home is decorated in colours other people told me would look great and the small touches I have added are so very small indeed.

My boyfriend insists I am beautiful and strong and I wonder who the hell he is talking about because, the more I started to think about it, the more I realised that any choice of new haircut, any choice of clothing, any choice of home or work or life: they had all been based upon someone else’s advice. I had never done anything without checking for someone else’s approval.

Getting a second opinion is fine – we all do it. Sometimes we need another perspective to make our own a little clearer. However, it turns out that this is not what I do. I take someone else’s opinions and use them instead of trusting in my own.

This is not an easy problem to fix. After spending ten of my educational years being told that no one likes who I really am, I was lucky enough to meet people who did. By then, unfortunately, the damage was done. I still do not voice my real opinions or thoughts, instead taking the diplomatic (or manipulative?) route when dealing with anyone who is not in my group of friends. In fact, this blog is one of the few places where my real thoughts get spoken aloud.

So, how do you fix such an issue when you realise it exists? Well, I have made a choice, one I have pondered for a few days. From now on, I will only seek opinions on extremely risky decisions (things that could lead to bankruptcy, for example, if I do not get some sound advice). I will stick to my guns and wear flats when I should wear heels, dye my hair black even if it “doesn’t look right” with my clothes, tell my manager and colleagues my real opinions without waiting to see what they think in order to go along with it. I’m not going to start ignoring basic social politeness rules, but I’m going to stop letting them run my life. It is about time I started making up my own mind, don’t you think?

Actually, don’t answer that.