None of us has especially unique career trouble – not even Emily Gould
One of the most dangerous things you can do in your career is to think you are different from everyone else. The biggest validation of that idea comes in AA meetings — it is widely understood by this group that thinking you’re different is just an excuse not to get help, an excuse to think you live outside what we already know to be true. It’s a dangerous way to live because you are reinventing the wheel for yourself and you risk just spinning in place.
Yet we jump through hoops to convince ourselves that we are different from everyone else and the experience of others does not apply to us. Daniel Gilbert found, for example, that most of us think we are worse jugglers than average, and most football players think they are better than average, but most people really are — surprise — just average. Gilbert has also shown that we are terrible at making decisions for ourselves, in part, because we think we’re special.
If you stop thinking you are so special, then you can learn from watching others, you can take advice from people who have been there before, and you can make decisions based on tried and true methods.
So finally, here's an example of this problem in action: a blogger gets on the cover of the New York Times magazine, Emily Gould. She talks about how her boyfriend hates that she blogs about him. Of course this hits close to home. But, it’s old news. I’ve already spent 20 years only dating/marrying/then dating people who will put up with me chronicling their every move.
So here’s another way for Emily to think: Instead of thinking that she’s so special because she’s blogging about her own life and everyone is knowing her through that, she could look at what has come before her. Women have been writing about their relationships forever, in transparent ways. It’s what women write about. And sometimes, it destroys relationships. But for forever, some women have been absolutely driven to put their life in words. They can’t stop. Emily is part of that history.
And so am I, so I know the history pretty well. Anne Frank did it, too — in the face of war. And Edith Wharton did it — risking the wrath of her high-end social circles. And Colette did it — with any guy who would put up with it, including her editor.
When I was a child, Anne Frank spoke to me not because she was documenting war, but because she understood that in some people, the drive to write down what is happening is stronger than anything else.
I told this to my divorce lawyer last week when he told me would not represent me if I didn’t stop writing about my divorce. He told me that he can’t represent me if I am undermining my case in my blog. I told him there is nothing worth saving more than my ability to document my life. I told him that somewhere, my husband understood this, because I published weekly documentation of our courtship — which focused on him never going down on me and me being pissed off–and we still got married. At that point, there is nothing left to hide. I told my lawyer it’s how I run my life, and I don’t know how else to do a life.
In the history of documenting one’s life–I hate to be snippy–but Emily Gould is no great example. The stakes are not very high for her. And relative to what other women have gone through, the stakes are not high for me, either. After all, I married someone who had already signed up for this life. Heather Armstrong is maybe a good example of the stakes being very high, because her blog, Dooce, includes her daughter so often.
But the poster-child for a woman going through hell in order to document her life is the photographer, Sally Mann. When I bought her monograph, Immediate Family, I had no idea it was controversial. I only knew that I was mesmerized by how the photos of her children captured the pain of adolescence, the edgy gross innocence of childhood and the closeness of a family’s bond: All at once. Every photo.
But stores wouldn’t sell it. They called it pornography. And people accused Sally Mann of child abuse for making pornography from her kids.
In Sally Mann’s eyes, she was just documenting her family life, and her love for her kids, and the fun of childhood. And with an open mind, you can see that in the photos. Wait. I’ll link to some (probably not safe for work).
Herman Melville is another great example of the stakes being much higher than Emily, or me. Melville had many children, whom he did not really support. He found his family depressing, and he thought his writing was too important to be distracted with the task of family life.
The history of obsessive writers destroying lives around them is not new. The history of writers feeling an insanely huge need to tell something to the world at all costs is not new.
So back to careers. In the New York Times, Emily portrays her career as anomalous, eccentric, and so difficult to manage that she needs to quote magazine articles to her therapist in order to describe her life. But if you put Emily in historical context—which I would have expected the NYT magazine to do—there are a lot of people who have paved the way for her. She can learn from lots of people who came before blogging, how to manage one’s career as a blogger.
And this is true for most of us.Very few of us ever have a totally unique career problem. Most problems come down to five or ten situations that happen all the time. I think we get clouded by the specifics of our own story, and that makes us unable to see why we are just like everyone else. Each person’s details are different, but the problems we have repeat themselves over and over again—especially in careers. That’s why a community of people helping each other with their careers works so well. That’s why I love my blog.
So take time to figure out why you are the same, instead of focusing on why you’re different. There is a community out there who can help you. This is true for everyone. Anyway, it’s not that interesting to operate as if we are the only person like us. None of us should reinvent the wheel by ourselves. Ever. It’s too lonely.
In the day and age of everyone surfing the net, my concern is about the other parents and peers/teachers of your kids. They can surf the internet, read your blog and made judgements about you, your family, your values. (right or wrong, it happens).
Growing up as a 2nd-generation American, I often was teased about the way my parents dresses, spoke, etc.
Kids can be cruel and I would hate to hear that something you wrote was used against one of your kids.
Also, could your postings about your divorce affect Nino’s ability to get hired in the future?
I’ve just discovered your blog (someone sent me your funny post about Penelope Trunk not being your real name), and I enjoyed this about Emily Gould. I felt her NYT Mag article was simply not “journalism,” and that she failed to achieve her stated aim, which was to make an accounting of what she had gained and lost through living online. Too much exposition, not enough analysis.
The only thing I take issue with in your excellent post is when you say of your divorce lawyer: “I told him there is nothing worth saving more than my ability to document my life.”
I totally get the impetus/absolute necessity to chronicle a life, but my gut reaction is to go take down any post of mine that might have possibly offended my husband or (in future) my children.
I think there could not be anything sadder than a feeling that one’s writing is the most saving-worthy thing in one’s life. Perhaps you feel this way because your marriage is already over. But valuing things (however necessary and worthy) before other people is simply tragic.
Laura:
That may be true of a friends-and-family blog, but with a blog as famous as Dooce, the relationship is more assymetrical. On one side of the teeter-totter is an audience of thousands — or tens of thousands — or hundreds of thousands. On the other side: The individual blogger. And they weigh about the same.
Penelope,
Great blogpiece. Here is an article from salon.com written by Rebecca Traister touching on the same subject matter:
http://www.salon.com/mwt/feature/2008/05/29/gould/index.html
The blogger Catherine Sanderson (who isn’t very well known in the states, but that should change once her book is published here) got fired for writing about her employers on her blog. She eventually write about it, but two months after the fact after consulting lawyers about taking her case to the French employment tribunal.
Here’s the post where she first discloses her firing: http://www.petiteanglaise.com/archives/2006/07/18/things-fall-apart/
She got a lot of advice from her readers, but recognized that she needed to hold back for a short period of time in order to not shoot herself in the foot.
The irony of your post is. . . well. . . pathetic. Come on, “I told my lawyer it's how I run my life, and I don't know how else to do a life.”
You are inded no different.
Why are you steering across lawns to rundown the simplistic truth that you do not belong to some special elite that can blog about her divorce, be counseled not to do so, ignore that advice, then argue that “I must, and the world should understand that, because I found supposed examples of people that do write candidly about their lives?”
You are no more special than any of your lawyer’s other clients — why do you think you are?
It’s disturbing to me that you are almost compulsive in your desire to do something you aknowledge to be self-destructive. The mental gymnastics (and intellectual dishonesty) must be exhausting.
How do you think the folks at AA would react to this post?
Yes, indeed, complaining about your husband on a blog, and then drawing out generalities about all men and all stay-at-home dads is exactly like a Jewish teenager in hiding from the Holocaust keeping a diary of her experiences.
Yes, you’re a modern-day Anne Frank. Someday fourth graders around the world will be reading about you and holding you up as an example of courage for going to your computer and typing posts implying that all stay at home dads are cheating laggards.
The nerve you have.
I love that you wrote this. I’m sorry to hear about your divorce. I’m blogging about my breakup, against the advice of my therapist, but if I don’t write about it, I’ll go crazy.
but if I don't write about it, I'll go crazy.
That doesn’t mean you have to post it on the Internet.
There are lots of analogies, but Anne Frank may not be the best of a woman who finds performing some work of art about her life to be as necessary as breathing. I’m with Sakoro on this: your need isn’t so much to WRITE about your life as it is to PUBLISH about your life, to have an audience for it — this certainly wasn’t the case with Anne Frank, who wrote and lived literally in secret.
Saying that it doesn’t matter how your blogging affects the lives of those closest to you, that you have a right to express yourself as you please — this may be the very definition of narcissism. It’s fun to read about; I’m just glad I’m not on the receiving end. You don’t want to be hurt by a narcisist because, among other things, there’s no natural limit to their ability to hurt you, as there would be for someone who can empathize with how their behavior is hurting you.
There are many lessons to learn from Emily Gould’s story. One of them is this: those who live by the sword, die by the sword. She hasn’t been very soldierly in her comportment, though, has she? More than anything, I felt embarrassed for her. To the extent that her article, like your blog, amounts to a lengthy Match.com profile, though, I predict that she, like you, will draw out the perfect boyfriend with this strategy. Or at least one who gives good head.
Beth raises an important question about how your blogging is materially affecting Nino. Have you talked about this issue with an attorney — one who’s opinion you actually value, as distinct from your divorce lawyer? If I were Nino, I’d initiate the libel suit now and use it as leverage in the divorce negotiation, even if it has no legal basis. I like the juxtaposition of this post with the one about how managers need to be nice people. Is it to a manager’s advantage to blog about what idiots their employees are?
I love hearing about your marriage and your divorce. The Clintonian moment you describe in therapy, when your therapist asked Nino whether he still loved you and Nino asked for a definition of love, is among the great blog posts of all time. You are slowly painting for us a picture of human failure that will help people, as is surely your purpose. But the jab about Nino not going down on you when you were dating was gratuitous. (Not that I’m not DYING to hear what he says about your performance in bed.) I notice you’ve been silent about Lori Gottlieb’s piece “Marry Him” about settling in the March 2008 Atlantic. I’d love to hear what you have to say about this topic since, from all appearances, you settled. But I’d caution you, and Emily Gould too for that matter, about the dangers of humiliating a man in public, particularly making fun of his sexual ability. When a woman’s desire to express her truth conflicts with a man’s desire to retain his dignity, the results can be unexpectedly unpleasant. I think this may be part of what your attorney is trying to convey to you.
When we think too deeply we sometimes miss the point.
People, the main theme is that we aren’t the only ones on the island with the problems we have. Everything else, every example or interesting phrase that is provided here is meant to support this theme.
Don’t think or critique the delivery method too much just seek to understand the message.
Oh, and just who peed in Jonathan S’s Wheaties?
Hi Penelope,
I think you’ve provided some great insight here. In my opinion, believing that your job is unique and only you deal with certain work issues not only makes work harder because you feel like you can’t ask anyone for help, but it also leads you to become consumed with your job and likely cut off from the rest of the workforce. It’s much easier to ask for help than go it alone. Thank you for providing great content.
Take care!
If P’s objective and desires are what she says, why has she stopped blogging about her divorce? Well, heck, why hasn’t our modern-day Anne Frank not blogged about not blogging about it?
I am currently in this situation. My wife has made copies of all of my Podcasts and Blog postings and is planning on using them in court against me.
I had allways thought that a blogger/podcaster has Freedom of Speech rights, but I guess not.
Well hopefull everything will work out.
Thanks for the posting, I am glad im not alone.
Jim
Your own words being used against you is not a violation of “Free Speech Rights.” It would be a free speech violation if you were prevented or arrested for making them in the first place.
If I confess to a murder, it is not a violation of my free speech rights if I am thrown in jail for said murder based on my confession.
you are so correct…..very good post
I think that this is an outstanding post… whether it be career challenges, personal challenges, family… anything… so often we are used to thinking that we are the *only* ones with these challenges that we alienate ourselves and don’t learn from what others have done to rectify the situations.
Great Post!
I don’t get it.
Emily is saying that sharing too much of yourself online is a bad idea.
You writes that we shouldn’t think we are so different from others and we should learn from their cautionary tales by talking about how you haven’t learned from Emily’s cautionary tale.
Is it because you are different from her? Is the difference that you would put your own cautionary tale into a more historical context? She isn’t giving her advice correctly and that’s why you can’t take it?
If you are still insisting on sharing every detail of your life on a blog…you must think you are different.
I’m so confused.
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