Granted, you're never completely anonymous. You're usually required to sign up for an account so someone somewhere can track you down if need be. That little "track you down" feature has paid off for me on several occasions when I've been contacted by websites to do some snarky writing.
So why do I hide my snark behind "Anonymous?" Because besides my sarcasm, I'm also pretty well known for my fear of people. Fear of judgement. Fear of hostility. Fear of conflict. Ultimately, fear of rejection. I know what it all feels like. Family, friends or strangers....fear feels the same. So I hide behind my anonymous mask.
I've shared before how Facebook was my first step out of hiding. My blog was my second. Both leave me feeling transparent and vulnerable, but both have helped me successfully break free from the chains of fear that used to bind me so tightly. Great risk = Great reward. So true.
I've come a long way on my road to freedom. I've actually never felt more free in my entire life and that feels....well, free! So am I ready to step out from behind "Anonymous?" Nope. Which brings me to what happened today.....
I clicked onto one of my favorite blog sites to find a post about her experience in a department store and a detailed account of how she witnessed another mother behaving with her children. It was told in a humorous way and wrapped up with self reflection of how we mother our children. It was funny and thought provoking. I loved it. So I was completely shocked to scroll down to find this woman being ripped to shreds and being accused of everything from "being judgmental" to "ignoring abuse." Some of the comments were getting pretty nasty, especially by one particular poster who simply referred to herself (himself?) as "Roomthreeseventeen." (Yikes. If you were trying to choose a code name that sent chills of fear up everyone's spine, congratulations. You did it.)
I jumped to my blog friend's defense with a comment laced with some of my best snark that I save for truly special occasions and clicked Enter. To my shock and horror that inflicted immediate stomach cramps and four subsequent trips to the bathroom, my full name appeared under my post. And I couldn't delete it. Holy crap. (No pun intended.) Suddenly my mind was filled with images of the faceless Roomthreeseventeen, dressed in a dark hooded robe, finding my house and ending the life of the Anonymous Queen of Snark and nobody would know where to find her (him?) because she (he?) was smart enough to list only the number of the room of the dungeon where she (he?) sleeps.
Cut me some slack, drama runs deep here.
Two hours later, I'd contacted and heard back from my blog friend. My super snarky comment was deleted, hopefully before the armed and dangerous Roomthreeseventeen got a taste of my gift and I can happily return to my life as Anonymous.....and always remember to set my security alarm at night for the rest of my snarky life.