Journey To the Center of Attention in The Stuff That's Not Interesting But Is The Most Interesting Stuff I'll Write

I got really emotional when one of my roommates moved out.  Like seriously emotional, and that's when I realized that I have a lot of relationships that I perceive to be more than what they are... Part of me wants to withdrawal and completely lose touch with everything and everyone and see who comes calling, but another part of me just wants to keep going.  But I know that there will come a point when I will need help and look around and find that everyone has left me.

My friend David (the hot tattooed bartender that I was semi-obsessed with last Spring) posted a link to his blog on Facebook.  Being a good friend, I dutifully read it and commented on it.  It was a sad story about how his father caught him dressing as a little girl when he was four and yelled at him, about his father scolding him for not playing the "manly" sports, yada yada yada... It's not a story that is too dissimilar from many other people I know.... But people on Facebook were calling him brave for "airing out his private pain" and leaving all these comments of love and healing.

Part of me just wanted to call bullshit on the whole situation.  I mean, we all have tragedies and things, and of course it's good to get them out, but what exactly is so brave about posting a blog on the internet?  Especially somewhere that your father won't see?  Now, I know we all have to confront our demons on our own time, but the point is, we do have to eventually confront them.  I have written for over a decade about how difficult my mother is, and I have confronted her and fought for common ground.

This blog seemed more like a stunt for attention and it made me seriously question the quality of my friend.  I've written online since 1999 and I've never once posted it on an alternate social media site and invited all the world to validate me.  But I'm realizing through my classes at college that that's something completely unique to me.  Apparently, everyone needs validation and some kind of assurance that they aren't alone in the world. 

When I was a child, I was all alone in the world and that was a fact I accepted.  Once I did that, my life became a lot more tolerable.  So there, now I've shared some of my childhood pain... aren't I brave?