On self-expression when writing online
I've always been a little reserved online; hesitant to express and reflect my true self through my writing and the content I produce -- or at least, the self I could absolutely let others appreciate but have always concealed.
At some point in time in my life, I was oblivious to self-expression. (Well, my memories at this point are murky at best and can only make this conclusion as I could make little recollections of significant ponderings of this kind.)
Then, certain events in my life molded me and shaped me into someone who finds comfort in wearing a shell around them in estranged situations. A shell that makes one hide behind formality and professionalism in writing, behind sticking to steoreotypes and deterring from stepping outside the box of expectations. Needless to say, I shrank my comfort zone and fitted it as membrane around which I consider my maximum boundaries.
I was afraid of confrontation. Afraid of being considered "outside the cult", misinformed, unknowledgeable, behind on the latest updates on what the Cool Kids consider Good or Bad these days. That, of course, was after I discovered certain information that led to my enlightenment with the current state of the world. It appeared as though anyone could have an opinion on anything anytime. Surely there was a common denominator that could wrap it all up nicely and carry it all with me each day, to fit in during social gatherings and not be called out for a misinformed opinion?
Alas, it wasn't long before I gradually found that, no actually, opinions molded by each of our unique experiences are, in fact, what sets us apart, what makes us unique -- the meat of our conversations, exchange of ideas, sharing our deepest passions and worries. One who seeks to remain in the dead-center in the Overton window is one who seeks to remain hidden, inconspicuous.
Our minds -- complex, fascinating, capable of infinite possibilities -- though evolved from the same DNA codes, are bound to draw each its own conclusions based on past experiences, current emotions, inherited and randomly mutated genes. It's inevitable. To interact with society is to participate in the war of ideologies. (Or it may be productive not to call it a war -- but words fail me as I try to find the perfect phrase to articulate this idea as an alternative.) Noble branches of arts and humanities try to draw the lines, form the classes and categories and put labels on people. At best it can only be a huge, inter-weaving venn diagram. To think, and to draw our own conclusions? That's simply human. The way someone might go about expressing it or choosing to participate in that war without assuming good faith? That's their choice.
In my attempts (as an introvert and overthinker) to be more likeable -- as a human, I tend to like those who are likeable, and only naturally wish to be more like those I am drawn towards -- I have started to dissect my social interactions both offline and online, particularly with regards to self-expression: personality, writing style, and sharing of idealogies.
In a space such as that of today's internet where our forms of presentation are devoid of signals that could please the natural senses and induce our most primitive forms of body-language deduction, we can only make abundant use of the tools available to us in crafting our publicity. The medium of which we exchange ideas consolidated into standard boxes of language, represented through text -- the most prominent of those tools. A tool, that unfortunately, constantly proves to be an annoyingly emotionless platform of communication.
When we communicate online, throwing our thoughts out there into the unknown, there is no intonation, reproducible pauses, pace, or rhythm of speech. At best one can only pick a few emoji to decorate a sentence, or informalise the tone to make certain parts more approachable like a conversation or stand-up speech. Though all that can only be used sparingly -- overindulge and... well we all know how that comes across.
I've never had much issues writing for academic and professional settings; personal text conversations have also become second nature. Online interactions and personal blogging, though? I've never really been too confident in the ways I end up articulating my ideas.
The best way to find that sweet spot for our own writing is to keep reading and writing. Throughout my attempts at making myself write more upon realization of these issues, I have went through great lengths of exploring different kinds of solutions such as lowering the friction to begin drafts, to edit, and publish. None had worked too well. For my most recent attempt, I decided to take on writing challenges and to simply "start writing and see where it goes". I started a dedicated writing vault (project) in Obsidian, gathered resources for motivation and inspiration, and got myself to first prioritize quantity over quality -- I realized that had been overthinking the quality way too much in the past and the only way to keep going forward was to set down my standards, set measurable goals, and Just Write.
"Start writing and see where it goes," my former self said. It did end up going somewhere. My "style" eventually settled into a form bound by my shell. A shell I never really thought it was worth growing out of. "You want to be informal, you say?" my newer self responded mockingly, "informal it shall be, but it remains reserved."
Something that needed to change had not changed. I successfully got myself to writing more, but I've since hit a plateau where motivation has waned again. I continued to write myself short notes in my personal journals to record key events, but ever since reaching suicide ideation some time ago due to unrelated circumstances, I have refrained from making long-form entries on my physical notebooks which I've always enjoyed. I debated on whether to record the thought-process of that suicide ideation episode while it was occurring, and never ended up writing a single word that day.
In the days that followed when I recovered from these events, I lacked motivation to write because I thought my journal was supposed to be my closest companion in the recording this period of my life. Something significant had happened and it had missed out in recording that. The story ends up disjointed for my future self to read. It was no longer an accurate representation of the daily events of my life and it felt as though the journal was a lover and we grew apart. Eventually, another significant event occurred and I had to write it down -- by first briefly mentioning the events it had missed out on the days prior. You could say we resolved our quarrel and got back together.
I encountered someone highly "likeable" again, recently. I believe I have found some of the key reasons why I was drawn towards them. They are open, their writing style is inviting, personal. They make themselves vulnerable to criticism, but precisely that same vulnerability shields them from certain haters -- anyone with a right mind who begins to write a negative response will stop themself and question its ethicality based on common sense.
I've noticed that the way I write is highly dependent on the environment I write in and the audience and intentions I keep at the back of my mind while I write. I can write freely and creatively when I put myself first. By appreciating what my former selves have done and been through, and by being supportive and encouraging to what my future self will be capable of achieving, I can write love letters to my future self. Writing to impress myself is the easiest way for me to write well -- obviously, I would consider a piece of writing "good" precisely because I have crafted it to be so!
And my environment? I work best at night, that 30 minutes to 1 hour before I sleep -- either in Emacs on my laptop or the blank pages of my favorite physical journal laying open on my lap -- that low, warm lighting, quietness and stillness of the night, when the city finally takes a break from the frenzy and hectic rush at money-making during the day -- the perfect time to sit down and reflect on the day.
The minute I start thinking "I know I'm writing this for myself, but this could fit very well on my public blog," I start spiraling down the pit of overthinking what my readers (other than myself) might want or expect to see.
Remember the war of opinions I mentioned earlier? I need to remind myself to not worry about expectations, and to pull myself back into the comforting environment that had previously worked so well.