One of my guilty pleasures is the website known as GOMI or Get Off My Internets — known for its never-ending supply of snark about bloggers and the internet famous.
What can I say — I can only spend so much of my free time looking at pictures of horrific dips on Pinterest.
Confession: I actually spend a lot of time doing this. (WTF is cake batter dip?)
According to a recent GOMI post, Heather Armstrong, aka Dooce, aka Queen of the Mommy Bloggers, has now confirmed that her ex has moved to New York city and away from Salt Lake, where she and the kids still reside. Armstrong confirmed that little factoid on her Facebook page and then went on to make a number of comments that some called snarky and some called honest — about her ex, his living situation, their living situation and her decision to no longer stay quiet about this part of her life.
I can see where she’s coming from. She’s a blogger whose livelihood depends on her ability to be open and honest, and that’s pretty difficult to do when you’re keeping quiet about something as significant as a divorce.
I’ve told stories about parts of my life that coincided with my own divorce and somewhere along the way I just made the decision to leave my ex out completely. I felt like I couldn’t say too much — I wanted to be fair and I didn’t want to damage our co-parenting relationship — and yet talking about only part of the story always felt unsatisfying. So I just decided not to talk about him at all and the decision turned out to be strangely freeing. All of a sudden, I looked at some of these episodes in a new light. It turned out that most of them were more about me than they were about him anyway.
Sometimes the challenge is realizing a decision to avoid bad-mouthing your ex doesn’t mean you have to be dishonest. For a long time I felt so much pressure to be relentlessly positive and let everything go. I don’t know why. Maybe I was trying to be some sort of post-divorce co-parenting superhero or something.
I finally realized that not bad-mouthing my ex didn’t mean I had to shout from the rooftops that he is flawless and the best at everything in the entire universe. Not that I ever did that, mind you. I just felt like that was a goal that I should obviously be working towards. The truth is that we’re both flawed because we’re both human, and that’s perfectly fine. But I still choose to keep the details of my divorce private, even as I tell stories about my vagina or eating cake out of a garbage can (different stories, obvs).