I wish that when I had graduated high school nearly twenty years ago that all my insecurities would have vanished into the sky dappled with ceremonious caps. They didn’t.
Even though I gained confidence and revamped my awkward demeanor, twinges of self-doubt poke about my core. My desire to be adored by all whom I encounter propels many of my actions. Compliments about how I parent, manage my home, and serve and inspire my husband fill a void carved by uncertainty. As a writer, I fear inadequacy…there are so many who excel at my craft. And if you have blogged for at least….one week…I’m certain that you are somewhat familiar with the reoccurrence of feelings that you haven’t owned since that tube of Clearasil.
A few months ago, I wrote about taking off my blog rater because it was bringing out my competitive beast. About the same time, I noticed that Blogger had installed a feature called “followers.” Originally, I thought that adding the button would do nothing but introduce my OCD nature to a new enemy. However, there were nine people following this blog at that time and my inner public relations professional thought, “This would be a great way to promote the blogs of those who read Becoming Me.”
As you know, I added the button. At first, the OCD me was clam happy and cucumber cool. My readers increased from nine to thirty…and then 50. Daily I would check my numbers while imitating Sally Fields acceptance speech at the1985 Academy Awards (“You like me, right now, you like me.”).
My love affair with the following button escalated when an icon of a very well-known blogger appeared in that gadget slot. However, when I hit the 80s, I noticed that some of my “followers” dropped. Among them was the aforementioned famous one. It stung. I won’t even paint you a verbal picture of what I did when I discovered that a few of my readers dropped my blog to follow a newer one with the same name…let’s just say it involved me lying on my bathroom floor in the fetal position grasping an empty bag of M&M’s.
Yes, I’m exaggerating. That never happened… but here comes an honest and pitiful confession—I began tracking my readers with the intent of wooing back any runaways. Oh yes, that was the plan. Praise God that I quickly got a grip and never executed such an arrangement that would have catapulted me into the role of psycho blogger. As usual, my grip was firmed by The Professor who sarcastically, yet helpfully quipped, “I don’t think you should refer to them as your followers…call them your disciples…because it is all about you, right?”
Ouch. Gulp. Ouch.
Then I laughed. Hard. I laughed because I realized how silly I was being. I laughed because there is no way I can keep up with all the blogs that are out there (did you know that there are thousands of great bloggity reads?), so why should I take it personally when someone cannot keep reading mine? I laughed because as the old 80’s saying goes, I thought I was all that and a bag of chips. I laughed at my audacity, which was hideous considering that I am a terrible blog follower. I fall into the overambitious category. I sign up to follow about 200 and then average on visiting most of those blogs only once a month.
So, I’m going to keep my little side bar button…but I’m keeping it for my initial reasons. I’m also going to try really hard to not obsess about it. In fact, I want every one of you who follow this blog to know that if you wish to stop following at any time for any reason, I will not have a nervous breakdown…nor will I stalk you. Pinky swear.
Because it is so not about me. It is all about Jesus. Let’s make a deal shall we…you just focus on following Him and I’ll be doing the same.
Matthew 16:23-25 – NIV
Jesus turned and said to Peter, “Get behind me, Satan! You are a stumbling block to me; you do not have in mind the things of God, but the things of men.” Then Jesus said to his disciples, “If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me will find it.