A Fine Line

I’ve been scrambling trying to figure out how to make my grand return to my own website without crossing that fine line between expressing productive thoughts and oversharing or “trauma dumping” on the internet.

Quite frankly, I haven’t figured it out just yet, especially because, storytelling is how I relate or connect with other people. I mean I had a whole segment on my Instagram in middle school called “Taylor’s Tall Tales” where I wrote about every minute detail about my day.

With that being said, I’ve also never been good at hiding my feelings about something. If you’ve ever met me, I’m sure you’ve seen a variety of facial expressions that I can’t keep to myself. When I’m having a bad day, you know immediately, so don’t ask if I’m okay when you see me on the verge of tears—it’s a stupid question with an obvious answer.

Overall, I’m like an open book that reads to you—a free (but incredibly captivating) audiobook if you will.

If you’re like this too, there’s nothing wrong with it in my eyes at least, that is until you cross the fine line I discussed six sentences ago.

“So Taylor, I’m assuming that at some point in your absence from your website, you’ve been personally impacted or made uncomfortable by someone crossing the line?”

Yes, and I actually have a story that demonstrates it, but it might cross the line. I told y’all I haven’t figured it out yet, so don’t blame me for being hypocritical.

—

Do you remember or know those people who claim they did so badly on a test that they just know they failed it, only for them to turn around and get a 92? What about someone that would go out of their way to ask you how you did on a test, just so you can ask them what they got?

Do you know those people who compare an activity, test, class, or literally anything that is challenging for some to solving the equation 2 + 2? What about someone who takes standard classes, and proceeds to complain how easy it is, when the high-level class they could take is right there?

Well if you can’t remember or haven’t met anyone of the sort, I invite you all to meet a classmate of mine that we are going to call Devyn—Dev for short for the sake of anonymity.

Dev is a freshman who has taken the class that we are currently in together about two or three times in high school, but because it’s a requirement to get into medical school in a certain state, they are taking it once more.

I knew I wasn’t a fan of Dev when they were upset by the little criticism they received from other students on our first assignment. May I remind you all that the “peer evaluation” we were supposed to follow required us to give constructive feedback? Y’all, I promise you it wasn’t even that bad.

Maybe it was when I realized that they stay on the phone with their long-distance significant other during the seventy-five-minute class at 9:30 in the morning. I don’t know why this one bothers me—I’ve definitely called my boyfriend while I was working at Walgreens before, but something about doing it in class feels . . . different. Like you’re paying to be there, so why not listen? You know???

Actually—it was when I convinced myself that they talk so damn loudly in that tiny ass classroom so that other people can hear their conversation about how easy a Biology test was.

I’m getting off track. . .

The icing on the cake for me though is how Devyn is a chronic oversharer. Now that I’ve painted a picture of this person to you all, I am now going to recall two distinct instances where I truly believe the fine line was crossed.

1. The Fragranced Colonial Teddy Bear

   1. We were tasked to talk about three items that meant a lot to us, and one of their items was a colonial teddy bear that their significant other had sprayed with their perfume/cologne/mist. Dev smells the bear when they miss their SO.

      1. Immediately no. Why on God’s (if you believe in Him) green earth would you willingly tell strangers that? Like I’m not even going to cap with y’all, I totally understand missing your person and wanting to feel like they are still there when they’re miles away. YET, there is no way in hell I’m going to tell PEOPLE I DON’T KNOW something as intimate as that. It’s like one thing if you’re like an influencer or something and that’s what your content is about, but for a rinky-dink college assignment? Absolutely not. I’m so incredibly good on it.

2. Eye Contact Mania

   1. The professor made everyone do this in-class activity where the individual had to make five seconds of eye contact with everyone in the class while speaking. We could’ve talked about anything: the weather, our favorite movie, what we were doing for the day, or the variety of prompts he gave us on the large projector. We even could’ve repeated the same word over and over again. Anything.

   2. Well, Dev decided that they were going to tell “a funny story” about how when they were younger, they found a box of love letters to and from various women to Dev’s father in the garage. These dated back to Dev’s father’s college years, despite Dev’s mother and father dating since high school. Dev’s mother threatened to call off the two’s engagement if Dev’s father didn’t stop essentially cheating on her. The End . . .

      1. Please imagine a complete stranger looking you dead in the eyes while telling their parents business like this. Maybe this is a black family thing, but my mom would whoop my a$$ if she ever found out I did something like that.

I tell you all this to say: I have an abundance of uncomfy, embarrassing, angering and/or sob stories about myself, my family, my friends, and other characters in my life from my blog sabbatical, but I don’t want to be Devyn.

Subjecting y’all to read things about me that make you feel awkward, the question “Did I really want to know that about Taylor or Taylor’s ________?”, or make you feel a certain way about someone that you may or may not know is not my goal when writing—typically.

I want to write things where if there’s a story attached to it, I’m making a point. There should be importance behind the opinions or experiences I share, otherwise, I should just write my venting/ranting in a diary or better, talk to my therapist.

I truly believe there is a responsibility of mine to not place unwanted weight on you (the reader) since it is not your burden to bear my issues.

I just don’t want to cross the line, because I know what it feels like to be on the receiving end in more ways than one.

—

Thank you all for reading. My life has been absolutely insane the past several months, so I haven’t been writing much. It seems like when I finally find the time, I’ve been worried about oversharing and the consequences of such. Perhaps I’ll pick back up on the “Which is worse: Regret or Rejection?” topic (I already wrote about regret so rejection is next). Maybe how I feel about separating the art from the artist? What about finally talking about “Comparison is the thief of joy”?

As always, let me know what you think!