Danielle Morrill is Getting Naked
I have a confession to make. Since I moved all my blogging activities (and eventually my entire website) to Danielle Morrill dot com I’ve become shy. If you’ve met me, you probably think I am the non-stop energy extrovert you’ve come to know (and maybe even love), but it’s more complicated than that. I started blogging over 10 years ago (yes - I was in middle school) on mydiary.com to express myself, because I felt like I had to be superficial in order to be happy but never felt fulfilled by my friendships and their lack of depth. Flash forward to now, and forunately my relationships have plenty of depth in real life but I still feel a sense of intimidation about exposing myself that much on my own blog.
Sorry for the navel gazing, but according to Google Analytics about ten people read this blog a day, so it’s really now or potentially never for posts like this — and I want this on public record, partly in order to hold myself accountable. One of the top hang-ups I have is the guilt I feel when I write in my blog and wish that some pieces of it would be reflected in my paper journal, and vis versa. I wish there was some kind of solution for this, and perhaps someday I’ll digitize my paper journals (or - oh dread - take my blog posts to paper and bind it all up). As a kid I had this crazy notion with every new journal I bought that I would write a masterpiece and that someday when I was gone my family, or maybe even other people, would care about what I had written between the two covers. I had a sense of awe at the possibility of writing anything that would mean that much. I was a very histrionic adolescent.
Now I feel like I crave more self-discovery. I want all the content in one place so that I can look at myself as a whole person, not disjointed between my real life and online existence. And truly, I don’t have much of a purely online existence — I’ve been remarkably fortunate and have met many of the writers, intellectuals, and entertainers I admire in person through one avenue or another. The thing is that I really enjoy the human interactions in life, its just that sometimes they leave me exhausted. If I bare my soul I think I’m afraid I might never be able to escape into my own little cocoon again - but the truth is that I’m already soaking wet in this white tshirt (yeah, all my old blogs are still cached out there) — so I might as well get naked.
Look forward to much less self-censorship in this blog going forward, and if you think I’m not living up to this please feel free to call me out. You’ll be doing me a favor.