The Many Faced Woman


First off, this is a painfully bad photo. The irony that it contains a book on photography is not lost on me. Good, glad we’ve cleared that up. On with the wittering.

By day I am corporate, largely professional, I sometimes whip out the odd shoulder pad; by night I am here (less often now than before) sharing nonsense, pith and whimsy with you over t’interwebs.

As I learn more by day and my career leaps forwards I find my voice dampened here at night. I question and second guess and reconsider. I write, re-write, delete, write the thing I wrote first all over again. I wonder constantly how someone stumbling across this little spot might view me (what has Google ever done for us? Beyond perpetuating a planets’ hypochondria).  I lie awake agonising over the impression the universe might form about me as a result of the hyperbole and occasionally expletive laced opinions it might find here.

I don’t believe that my day face and my night face are mutually exclusive (or actually that different; by day I am frequently described as fiery and with abundant spirit – code for fiery/scary?) but I can’t help feeling that there’s something of a choice I need to make around about now. About how that fieriness comes across online and how that might impact my daily life, my aspirations, my future.  It’s all me, me, me eh?

I don’t want to write with inhibition and I absolutely don’t want a blog full of banal recipes and reviews. I also cannot do without this little webby escape in my world. So… where am I going with this? How do I continue to wear both of these faces in one little life?

I imagine the answer lies in being a better wordsmith, in finding ever more creative and witty ways to share things with you that don’t require all the ‘effing and jeffing’ as my nan might say.  Of finding slightly less inflammatory ways of making the same points. Of championing my own cause and continuing to harp on about equality and women’s rights in a way that is inclusive, clear and persuasive rather than ranty, sweary and angry.  The answer might also lie in donning a mask and a cape by night. Who knows?

What I’m really saying is please bear with while I spend some time learning a few better words than those in my current vocabulary; whilst I figure out where I go from here. I anticipate a few weeks not unlike when Ross tries to phase out his English accent.

Disclaimer: there might be more recipes. I don’t think anyone could get form a naff opinion of me from a recipe. Perhaps the opinion that I’m verging on an insulin issue, yes. But undesirable? Not so much.

I’m open to any tips you might have on balancing blogging with your day life.

Help. Me.

The Shed
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