I hope I disappoint you.

Having blogged for 8 years, I've had a few run ins with saying things that rub some people the wrong way.  Sometimes people say stuff like, "I'm disappointed in you," and after having had this happen recently I realized that, actually, I'd like to disappoint you.  Because the pressure to say the right thing always, to never offend anyone, to always be agreeable, and to never discuss topics that are controversial... it's strong.  The internet can turn into a pitchfork wielding mob of townspeople at the drop of a hat, trolls can say hateful, cruel things under the guise of anonymity, and misunderstandings due to having no external communication cues abound.  Being an internet person can be weird, let me tell you.  

But what I realized is that I don't want to be someone who never disappoints you.  Because real humans disappoint.  Real humans don't have the same viewpoints as you sometimes.  Real humans have PMS and have bad days and get salty.  Real humans want other real humans to recognize their realness and approach it with the same grace you'd like to be given.  I'm tired of the internet polarizing and turning people into saints and demons.  It's a false dichotomy.  Nobody is a saint.  Nobody is a demon.  We're all just people trying our best, sometimes being awesome, sometimes falling on our faces.

I've heard people say that because I have a "large following" and a "voice online," that I have to be extra careful with my words, and while I agree to a certain extent that "great power comes with great responsibility," but I also believe that one of the greatest responsibilities I have as a writer is to be a real person and share my vulnerability and that means not hiding all the not so awesome stuff that comes with that.  I don't want to be perfect.  I don't want to not be able to make mistakes.  I don't want to live in fear of a pitchfork mob because I lifted the veil of perfect inoffensiveness and, oh shoot, there's a real person under there.  So I hope that I have or will disappoint you.  I hope that you'll disagree with something here.  I hope that you see my mistakes and recognize that, on my side of the computer screen, there's a real live human being.