Audience

For most of college, I judged my actions by the opinions of a group of "cool girls" from high school. Let me clarify. I judged by my perception of the opinions of these girls. Never mind that I didn't know them well, that I hadn't seen them since high school. That some of them were kind of thoughtless or mean to me. That they weren't even the "coolest" group (as though that would make it better). Now, I see what nonsense this is. Then, I unconsciously, if uncomfortably, accepted it. I didn't necessarily alter any of my behaviors to "impress them," but I mentally judged myself, based on my perception of their hypothetical perceptions. And "they" were not kind. Why did I do this?

It's similar to the super mean voice in my head that sometimes pops in for an insult or a few as I write. It asks sarcastic questions, finds fault with what I say, takes me the wrong way, rushes to criticize. I find myself believing this voice channels the thoughts of certain readers, but is that so?

I've no evidence that anyone is judging me that harshly, or ever has. True, I have no idea who my blog audience is. I don't know whether any readers find great fault with my words. I can see some numbers on the back end, such as what countries the readers are from and what browsers they use, but Google doesn't track or analyze reader perspectives. Those who have reacted have all been extremely respectful and sometimes also complimentary or in agreement. Apparently haters ain't gonna hate, at least not at the level of disclosure I've reached so far.

I always imagine I'm writing to someone who will instantly know their own views on a matter and whether they agree with me or not, though the same can't always be said of me as a reader. In fact, my writing could be helping to shape those views, just as reading has shaped my own.

I don't know what kind of love people will have received by the time I interact with them. I forget I address a tribe of people in process, who've been wounded in unique ways, who have word-associations I never dreamed of. Some time I'll reach someone I haven't spoken to in years and may not have much in common with who was bored one night and clicked through, someone who never entered my mind as a potential reader, who the post isn't "for," but of course it's for them, too.

On a larger scale than this blog, I have a perception of "other people" or "most people" that is surely false. My imagination shows me a faceless tide of opposition because reality is much too complicated. My mind does its best but isn't big enough to give everyone a face or begin to grasp where everyone is coming from. How would I know what most people think? I sometimes claim to, and I could be right, but I don't really know. Self-selection plays a part. Passionate voices speak loudest, and may mask a "silent majority" (no political connotations intended). I am certain the media don't represent the views of the populace anywhere close to proportionally.

My friends are not a representative slice of Americans. I'm not friends with any open Trump supporters. I don't even think I know any personally (no one's voiced such support to me). I do know some Republicans, but none that admit to supporting him. Yet there must be tons! Enough to make him a Presidential candidate. My point is that I can't use my observations to extrapolate the rest of reality, though it's instinctual to do so.

I imagine the world is against me when perhaps no one is.

I have an impression that my life has an audience. I'm certain everyone's does. But it must be a less hostile one than I imagine. I'm a stranger to almost everyone I've ever seen. The eyes that watch me more closely do so, I would suppose, out of love.