My Parents Know Nothing About This Blog
My parents know nothing about this blog. Actually if you want to get technical about it, most of my family knows nothing about it. Only one of my sisters and a couple of my cousins have ever read it and I aim to keep it that way. As you guys know, I’m not a secretive [...]
My parents know nothing about this blog. Actually if you want to get technical about it, most of my family knows nothing about it. Only one of my sisters and a couple of my cousins have ever read it and I aim to keep it that way.
As you guys know, I’m not a secretive person. But I go to major lengths to conceal all evidence of this blog from my family. Because there would be hell to pay if they ever found out. My parents…while it’s a slight overstatement for me to say that they would kill me, the truth is that I would be in major shit. MAJOR shit. My mum would never stop yelling and talking about how she cannot believe the unladylike things I discuss and the unladylike language I use to discuss them. And my father? My father would just act like I didn’t exist. He’d stop talking to me and stop looking at me.
My parents are only a very small part of the governing body that rules Max. My aunties and uncles, my godparents, my older cousins all have a pretty significant say in what I do and how I do it. Then of course there are my nieces and nephews for whom I’m supposed to be setting a good example. There’s a whole gang of people who would lose their shit if they ever knew that this blog existed and could be linked back to my family.
I’ve written in the past about the emphasis my family puts on propriety and “ladylike-ness”. Those of you who know me in real life have heard about our ultra-formal Christmas dinners (there’s a programme, structured discussion, formal gift-opening, and then an hour of “free time”) and our ultra-structured Family meetings (we have a logo and a mission statement. Someone chairs the meeting. There are minutes and a keynote speaker). My family members are linked by blood and marriage but we govern ourselves like a multi-national conglomerate that is poised to take over the world. And Nasty Fridays appears nowhere on my family’s manifesto.
So yeah if my family found out about this blog there’d be trouble. There would be lectures and speeches and an emergency meeting. There would be special prayer circles to release Satan’s hold on me. Emails sent out to remind all of us that we have an image to uphold. The little ones would not be allowed to hang with Aunty Max and my status as official black sheep of the family would be on a hundred thousand bazillion.
Whenever I try to explain to people how bad it would be if I was ever “caught” by my family they don’t believe me. They think I’m exaggerating or joking. “Max,” they say, “you’re an adult – how much trouble can you actually get in?”. Or they say “Oh don’t worry Max – they’ll come around”. “What if your blog got so big that Oprah invited you to come on the show to talk about it?” they ask. ”What if it turned into a best-selling book? Your family would be proud of you then, right?”
My family would not approve of my blog no matter what. And although I’ve never been one to lead my life in accordance with my family’s rules, it bothers me. Or scares me, would be the better way to put it. No matter what ambitions I have for my blog, I never want it to be so big that I have to see the look on my favourite auntie’s face if she found out about it. I never want to get a “you’re embarrassing the family” email
again. Wayward woman though I may be, there is a limit to the amount of family disapproval I can handle and them finding out about the blog is beyond that limit.
So I should stop, right? I guess I should but – for whatever reason – I don’t. Maybe it’s because I love the blog, love the readers, love the commenters, love my blogging peers. Maybe it’s my passive-aggressive way of protesting the ways in which my family does not allow its members to be themselves. Maybe it’s that teenage rebellion that I didn’t have back then surfacing in my mid-thirties. I don’t know which of these is the real truth, but there are two truths I do know: I would die if my family found out about my blog and I have no plans to stop writing it.
What do you guys think? Am I past the age of caring what my family thinks? Should I just say “if you don’t like it, fuck you?” to my family? If you were me would you continue to write a blog that would bring shame on your family? What dirt are you guys doing that you’re hiding from your parents? Share with me in the comments.