Heather B Armstrong, who owned the blog Dooce, died by suicide yesterday. If you’re one of the handful of people left who still read my blog, then this name probably rings a bell. Heather became infamous when she was fired for writing about her job in her blog, which she then turned into a lucrative career.
I personally never read much of her work, but her name was well-known, and people who I know from forum and blogging spheres from 20 or so years ago have commented how Heather’s honesty about depression helped them speak up about their own. Her influence is undeniable.
Heather was arguably the first mommy blogger–well before anyone used that term and years before I found myself seemingly at odds with mommy bloggers when I owned the review blog. I was so tired of being lumped in with mommy bloggers because I was also a young woman who reviewed things. It irked me to no end because sometimes emails from brands or PR managers addressed mommy bloggers specifically, ignoring people like me who had neither children nor aspirations to have them.
At the time, I took most of my ire out on the mommy bloggers, instead of the companies who deserved to be called out for their misogyny, for upholding the part of society that only sees value in women who bear children. My internalized misogyny reared its ugly head when I directed my other frustration at mommy bloggers; I was far from calling myself a feminist at that point (and they were, in some respects, my competition).
Of course, it only made sense that mommy bloggers were the burgeoning genre du jour: many of them were young women like myself who dedicated time to creating, designing, and posting in their blogs. They simply continued to do so after they had children. Some of them simply found a new way to advertise themselves when they saw the potential for free goods or paid posts!
In retrospect, perhaps some of these people marketed themselves as mommy bloggers–or defined themselves as mothers–because that was the only way they could make a niche for themselves as women in this world. They, too, struggled under the oppression that has tried to keep me down. Perhaps I was jealous because they formed brands and discovered niches in a way that I never could. I had too many interests to pin down, and while that might make someone interesting as a friend, it wasn’t easily marketable, at least not by me at that time.
I was a fairly active review blogger for a few years, but the self-promotion was excruciating. I didn’t make much headway because I never wanted it to be more than a hobby. Those who took it seriously as a career, people like Heather, achieved more success. The last few years of the review blog had little more than a post a year, even if people in my everyday life assumed it was still active. Instagram and other social media were the new fad, and I wasn’t interested in joining–and still haven’t. I wanted my content to be about my words (ignore the lack of posting on this blog, plz).
Although I haven’t owned the domain for my review blog for over a year (or is it 2 or 3??), I still find some of these mommy bloggers in my social media feeds. Most of them have walked away from this type of blogging like I have, perhaps because they were also burned out by it. Others have changed their brand or niche., More often than not, I delete these pages from my life forever. They were only ever tangentially related, anyway.
But still, as it often happens when something encourages introspection, I feel the need to apologize. Even if I didn’t cause real harm. Even if the people I felt frustrated with didn’t even know who I am. I will never achieve the influence of Dooce as a blogger, but that doesn’t mean I don’t impact others, that my existence doesn’t send ripples out in the world. Let’s all take the opportunities to consider our impact when they arise–and be glad for those who have impacted us.