One of the biggest fears I have about exposing myself through a blog or a vlog is the vulnerability that comes along with it. My comments, my appearance, my lifestyle, my choices all become open to public scrutiny.

Beyond that, the fact of the matter is that the internet is rife with bullies. It is natural to have an opinion about what someone else thinks, says, or does, but the more publicly you’re willing to expose that, the more you become vulnerable to hearing those opinions.

Face to face, fewer people will look you in the eye and say “I think you’re an ugly, stupid cow” but — largely thanks to the anonymous nature of the internet — people feel free to post cruel comments like that (and worse). If one thinks too much about that vulnerability, it can paralyze a person from being open and honest with the world.

There was a time, not too long ago, when people were discouraged from sharing anything negative. Everything that a family might be ashamed of was kept secret (or, if the euphemism feels better to you, it was “private family business”). Sexual abuse, child abuse, being a victim of racism or bullying, spousal assault, alcoholism, disability, birth defects, miscarriages, infertility, depression, mental illness, poverty, bankruptcy… it was all private family business. No one was to know.

Although I can certainly see the importance of a quiet and private time to cocoon and heal a bit, I think our secrets contributed to social isolation and for those suffering to feel like they are “the only one.”

There is a saying that “misery loves company” and although it sounds awful that someone might find something positive knowing that something bad has happened to someone else, the reality is – it is comforting. It is comforting to think that someone else knows what it feels like to lose a friendship, or to feel ashamed of their body, or to feel the same ache of grief. Certainly it’s not because we wish misery on anyone but there is then this sudden feeling of connection. It’s a moment when you suddenly have nothing to say but want to just put your hand on their shoulder because you know how much it hurt when that happened to you.

These terrible things that happen are never ‘okay’ and they are never to be minimized but in my heart, I believe that these tragedies are meant to teach us something about ourselves and about others and about how important we are to each other. Overall, I have had a blessed life. But if we were to reflect back on my challenges, there have been a large number of terrible crosses to bear. Although I was frightened, frustrated, lost, angry, and desperate in some of those times, I can honestly tell you that I am who I am now because of those times. I am a better friend, a better neighbour, a better wife, and a better mother thanks to those experiences and I am far less judgemental than I once might have been.

I have a theory that those who are the most judgmental, cold and hard hearted have either had no hardship in their life (yet) so they can’t relate or feel compassionate for the person they are judging; or they have suffered so greatly and so alone that they feel the need to be as hard on others as the others were on them. Either way, that is a tragedy.

I took a first fledgling video of a road trip we took in May. I was testing the camera and testing my video editing software and testing my recorded voice, etc etc. When I was done I screened it to my sons and my husband and when I saw poor image focus, or a bad edit decision, they saw something wonderful. I uploaded it to YouTube that day but I kept it set to “private.” The kids almost asked me daily if my video was public yet and they couldn’t understand what I was waiting for… Well the hard thing for a parent to tell their kids (and they will read it here) is that I was afraid of people and their reaction.

Last night, I was reflecting on that decision to keep the video set to “private” and it occurred to me how crazy it was that I felt comfortable telling people about the journey since my stroke and traumatic brain injury; comfortable telling people about my roller coaster recovery experience; comfortable telling people about the lessons my husband and I have learned in the years of our marriage but I was protective of a two minute, 40 second video. Sigh.

So here it is. Here is my first video and here is me, offering you another opportunity to either be supportive or to be anonymously critical. Either way, I am who I am and this is genuinely Jen.

Be well,

Jen xo