Because I have one of the worst replying-to-comment policies on the internet, I just wanted to write a quick post on comments. And on the fact that they mean a huge amount to me, contrary to what my haphazard responses would suggest.
A few months ago, one of my favourite bloggers wrote a post that really made me think. Actually, it jarred a little uncomfortably – and then it made me think. About conversation, and comments, and what the interaction between writer and readers means.
When I started Finding Melissa, it was just me and my illness. I was so cut off and introspective that I couldn’t see beyond the narrow parameters of my existence, or imagine that some of my experiences might be shared. The comments here, and the wider community of Twitter, have transformed my outlook on the world. They have bridged the gap and added a context that has broken through the isolation. They have been the unexpected answer when I was used to talking to myself.
And so, sometimes, I don’t know what to say. And sometimes I forget just how much hinges on dialogue. And sometimes I’m just inexcusably disorganised –
But when I don’t say anything, it infers that I don’t appreciate the courage that comes from sharing an opinion, and it conceals the gratitude I feel for people bothering to stop by and think about my blog.
So, I leave it for a few days; and then, like in real life, I worry that I’ve missed the opportunity and it would be a little funny to say something, now… Which means that things are unsaid.
I don’t think there’s a hard and fast rule for comments replies on blogs – but I think it’s important to say thank you and to acknowledge the other side of the conversation, and I haven’t done this very well.
So, a huge thank you for sharing your experiences and letting me know that you’re out there. Thank you for reading – and then thinking about – what I write. Thanks you for coming back even though it might feel like you’re writing into a vacuum. Thank you for giving me ideas, and support, and encouragement, and making me smile -
I guess the subject’s been weighing on my mind as I don’t want to be someone who forgets the conversation, particularly when it has spread into and enriched my whole life.
Thank you. xx