Let me blow the dust around in here and see if I can make this work. I know it’s been a while and I really have no one to blame but myself. Well, I have others to blame but really does pointing fingers at others really help? Actually it does, but I always try to take those moments in which someone really pisses me off and use it to my advantage. To use it for a learning experience. To tell those people to suck my nose holes and come back bigger and badder. So let’s do it. Let’s write again, because it just feels good.
It really sucks when you love to write and you have this amazing (to yourself) blog, and you let other people rain on your parade and suck the life out of everything you have busted your ass to build. I’ve been trying to figure out why in the hell I can’t write words. Why can I not take the thoughts in my head and put them on this cyber paper for people to read? Why have I become so gun-shy? What in the fuck am I so damn worried about?
It’s hard in this “business” (can you classify a hobby in which you make no money doing a ‘business’?) to not let people get to you. You get an idea and you start to write and BOOM, you see someone else just wrote a post on that exact same topic. You see a friend bust their ass to create something fabulous and before you know it you see it elsewhere with their watermark removed and some other asshole taking the credit for work they didn’t do. Everywhere you look there is someone being a douchebag. This constantly lingers in the back of your mind as you question every single word that you write. Asking yourself if this word or that word will bring out the trolls. Wondering if you will be under fire for writing what you want to write on your blog that you aren’t forcing anyone to read.
I’m not gonna hide my feelings about the last post I wrote. It was hilarious. The funniest thing I have written in quite a while and it felt so GOOD to write it. I have no shame in saying that because damn it, if you can’t find boobs funny you need to remove the stick from your ass. That post was rocking along, great comments, great page views, not one person voiced their irritation with my use of the words boobs, tits, fun bags, mammaries, rack, hooters, and other terms of endearment that we use for our breasteses. Then I got an email from Google themselves telling me that I had seventy-two hours to either edit the “sexually explicit” post or delete it all together or they would pull all advertisements from my site. I felt like I had taken a kick right to the gut. I hadn’t realized that I was writing erotica, I thought I was writing about motherhood. What in the frickety-frack was going on?
I vented to some friends and tried to understand. I immediately shut down. The words stopped, the desire to write stopped, a little bit of my passion was stripped. I’m not normally one to take shit like this so seriously, but this one really got to me. Maybe it was a misunderstanding. Maybe it was a mistake. I was hurt and I was insulted. Then it hit me, Google is just being an asshole. Then the anger set in.
I wanted to write you a quick note to thank you for taking the time to really read my site before deeming it inappropriate for your ad network. I work really hard to make sure that my site is as sexually explicit as a blog written by a mother of five young kids can be. I would like to apologize if the word ‘boobs’ is just too much for you to handle, but if I’m being honest I think there are many other topics I could have breached that could have been incredibly more offensive.
You see, I work really hard to write content that is appropriate for my readers. Things that they can relate to. Things that make them laugh/cry/scream/shake their head in agreement. Seeing as ninety-five percent of my readers are women/mothers/grandmothers/aunts, we all have boobies. Most of us have already lamented and accepted their tube-sock appearance and have come to grips with the fact that our mammaries will never be as spectacular as they once were. I pride myself on the fact that I am not afraid to write the things that others may be embarrassed to talk about. If I can help make one person feel better about themselves, or to know that they aren’t alone on this crazy road we call parenthood, then I am doing exactly what I set out to do when I started this blog.
Your promise of removing your ads from my site did not scare me, it made me angry. Not because I was going to miss out on those pennies a day that I made from allowing you to put your quality ads in my sidebars, but because you attempted to bully me into changing my words to fit your idea of appropriate material. It was quite clear to me that you didn’t take the time to really read my words. That you didn’t take five minutes to see what my site is about and to read the comments and see that not a single person was offended. That you missed out on a really good laugh.
I don’t give two shits about your ads. You have the ability to choose and you chose to remove yourself from my site. No big whoop. What I do care about is that I have let you affect my writing. That I allowed you to infiltrate my thoughts and make me question everything that I have ever written. That despite the undying love and support that I am fortunate enough to see every. fucking. day from my readers, I have let you enter the recesses of my brain and shut off all confidence that I had in my abilities. No more Google. NO. MORE. I will not let you win because I KNOW in my heart that I am capable. That I am just flat-out fucking amazing.
It is amazing to me that you are so quick to judge. That of all the sites on the interwebs, you jumped on one word. A word that ninety-nine percent of people do not find even remotely offensive. I can only hope that in the future, you would take the time to actually read a few posts from time to time. That you wouldn’t judge a post based on one word in the title (BOOBS). That you would not attempt to bully someone into censoring their own words, on their own site, in which they allow YOU to place ads on. Censorship is so last century.
Thank you for giving me a couple of weeks to realize how fabulous I am. For helping me to realize that I don’t have to succumb to the corporate greed. That I am in control of what I think, what I write, what I promote. That it is OK to just be me. I actually needed it.