Hate, Pain, Love, Twitter, Google & Me

I did something today that I knew was wrong as I was doing it, but I did it anyway. I Googled my own name, then looked at my Twitter timeline from a friend’s Twitter feed, so I could see all the things written about me but I don’t see because I have most haters blocked. Wow. At first I was in shock, then I laughed, then I cried, then I threw my hands up in the air and allowed myself to put aside my hurt and fear to focus on compassion.

It truly was overwhelming to see how much crap is written about me. Not just crap, but true and deep hatred that is sent my way. I have had death wished upon me, called all kinds of horrible names, been criticized for my writing, height, weight, hair, freckles, teeth, you name it, people hate on it. The lengths they will go to in order to hurt me is really rather fascinating. What kind of pain and hurt are these people in to do this?

My bi line photo for The Jewish Journal has me smiling with a closed mouth, so people write that I have no teeth. I recently cut my hair and donated it to Locks of Love in honor of my dad’s birthday, but apparently it was so ugly, they wouldn’t take it. I am a bad writer, too fat to have anyone love me, a bad date, a bad lay, my freckles are hideous, and the best one of all, I am a bad mother who should have my child taken away from me.

There are people on Twitter who are hell bent on causing a “blogger war” of some kind.  It is like comparing apples and oranges to compare my work to that of other bloggers. I write for a publication, not myself. I do not ask for money, have a donate button, secure my own advertisers, buy Twitter followers, or work for myself. I am employed as a writer, yet constantly compared to hobby bloggers, which is not a fair comparison.

I answer to an editor, a boss, a board of directors, and frankly my faith. I represent the Jewish Journal, and on a different but as important scale, I represent Jews. I am often referred to as “the Jewish blogger”, and occasionally the “dirty Jewish Blogger”. I take it all with a grain of salt but today, seeing the insane amount of hate, I cannot find a way to not take it personally. These people don’t know me, but openly hate me.

I don’t really get hate when I write about myself, but rather when I write about reality television. I suppose there is comfort in that, but when I don’t write about reality TV, the haters turn to my personal blog to sling arrows. The lesson here is that it really does not matter what I write because they are going to find something to not like about what I say. People don’t have to agree with me, but a little common decency would be appreciated.

99% of the hate comes from people who use made up names and have no picture posted. Funny how brave someone can be when hiding in the shadows. These are lonely and sad people who have found friends online and in those friendships, have bonded in their opinions. They know my name, see my face, watch my reality recap show, read the blogs I write about my own life and worldview, and they think they know me. I suppose they do a bit.

Rather than let these snakes tell the world about me, I will. I was born in Israel, moved to England at 2, and then Canada at 3. I moved a lot as a kid because my father was a salesman. I was a class clown, popular in school, always had great hair, lost my virginity on my 20th birthday, survived a violent kidnapping and rape at 22, spent a lot of time in the hospital and court, got married at 25, and had a baby at 30 after years of infertility treatments.

I was divorced at 30 with a new baby, dated my divorce lawyer, got cheated on 6 weeks before I was to get married again, got broken up with on Facebook, been lied to by people I trusted, and no mater how many times me heart is broken I will patch it up and try again. I believe in love and am currently praying that the man I am interested in is able to take a leap of faith and try to find our way together because he is magnificent and I adore him.

I have been both lucky and unlucky in love, and believe I will be lucky again. I am a brilliant cook, love to clean, am insanely organized, have beautiful handwriting when I try, can iron slacks and a shirt with military precision, don’t sleep well, laugh from a place deep in my soul, don’t remember what my attacker looks like, but remember his voice, and I have survived much greater things than a bunch of bitches attacking me on Twitter.

I have written about every aspect of my life for The Jewish Journal and so there are no surprises here. My son knows about my history and he is fine. The man who will one day love me will know, and he will be fine. I am not defined by my past, I am certainly shaped by it, but not defined. I am a mother and my only obligation is to my child, my God, and myself. Do I care what these people write about me? Yes. Will they destroy me? No.

I think reality television is fabulous, and celebrities are complicated. I think Judaism makes sense, most sports would be better if played on skates, Canada is heaven, Los Angeles is home, my son makes my heart beat, my fear propels me forward, my heart keeps me safe, and my love runs deep. I am not afraid to share my opinions, and have many. To the people who feel empowered by shitting all over me, God bless. I hope it helps you.

I live my quiet life out loud and there are a lot of benefits to that.  I have a lot of fears of course, and some days are harder than others, but in the end I have faith. Faith in myself, and knowledge that things will get better. I am a devoted and loyal friend, a supportive and giving partner, a wonderful and loving mother. So now you all know who I am. Say what you want because it won’t matter. I am fine, and you’ll be fine too. Just keep the faith.