A couple of weeks ago I decided to tell my husband about this blog.
OK, that’s a lie. He knew that I was reading some IF blogs and one evening when I mentioned something about one he said to me “but you’re not writing anything on the internet, are you?”. I paused for a moment, and quickly decided I couldn’t outright lie to him. (Well, not about this. I can usually manage to scrounge up a white lie about how much that new pair of high heels cost). Not only am I a terrible liar, but not telling the truth about something so important just wasn’t something I was comfortable with.
It might seem strange that I didn’t tell him right from the start but – to be brutally honest – I knew that he probably wouldn’t approve and I knew that if he voiced that to me I would feel like I couldn’t blog without betraying him in some way. So I started this blog all on my own, as my private piece of therapy, and chose not to mention it.
There are a couple of reasons why I suspected H would not be impressed with the idea of a blog. Firstly he is simply quite a private person. He just doesn’t like the idea of people knowing his business without making a conscious choice about what information he is willing to share. Secondly, although he is incredibly loving and supportive, he is not an emotional person in the same way I am. He is thoroughly pragmatic, and I knew he just wouldn’t understand why I needed this outlet.
So when I admitted to the blog, it seemed there might be a fight brewing. And then something amazing happened. For probably the first time ever, I managed to explain myself, without getting upset, in a way that H instantly understood.
I explained to H that I have all these thoughts about IF running though my head and if I didn’t have some way of getting them off my chest I’d come home every night and unload verbal diarrhoea all over him, and he would rapidly lose his mind. I told him how much support I get from fellow bloggers out there. I explained that the purpose of this blog was not to embarrass him, or share unneccessary information with complete strangers, but to help me cope. The bottom line was that this blog helps to save him from some of my lunacy.
“That is the most intelligent thing you’ve ever said to me.”
So the moral of the story is… the blog continues, with H’s blessing, on the proviso that it remains anonymous, and I don’t discuss the intimate details of our sex life or our arguments. Which is just fine with me. And I imagine it’s just fine with you too, because who the hell wants to hear that stuff anyway?