I started this blog in February 2011. I was seeking an answer to this great big question of WHO AM I?
I was going through an identity crisis of sorts – I started going by my middle name Maureen in as many social circles as I could, even though it never really caught on with anyone I worked with, or anyone I grew up with, or my Mom. Pretty much, 3 people still call me Maureen. To the rest of the world, I’m back to being Erin. I don’t know what else to say about it, except, I was kinda sorta having a crisis, ok! So stop judging me!
The back story of my crisis is long and painful, I’m not going to get into any of the details here because I’m writing a book about it and there are far too many spolier alerts on the internet anyway. Essentially, because of my crisis:
1) I cut my hair short.
2) I hid behind a mask.
It is time for me to take the mask off.
Part of me hates to do it, and not just in the metaphorical sense.
Matt is a professional photographer – so I wouldn’t try this at home, especially with someone like me as a model. See, I’m not very photogenic and I am very awkward. Matt took several hundred pictures before we were able to find 3 in which I did not look like a total clown, which is really a testament to his skill. I still can’t believe we got 3 really great pictures of me!
See, I really struggle with looking “sexy and smoldering.” Luckily, you can’t hear all the, “ummms” “ders” and “gaffaws” in the still pictures. I’m willing to bet I’m the worst model Matt ever had and he was just too nice to do anything but click away on his fancy photographer camera.
After we picked three winning pictures, Lindsay designed my blog, choosing vibrant, sexy, confident colors to help me with inventing/discovering myself. She set everything up for me so all I had to do was write. Thank goodness. This blog would have never happened without her.
It didn’t take long for my blog to diverge from my chaste path of self-discovery to a smutty dating blog.
*Editor’s Note: People actually found this blog by searching for things like “armpit porn,” “post yourself nakie” and “the girl next door naked.” Smut.
While I was still turning to the nameless cruelty of the internet to help me heal my latest broken heart (dumb idea), I was hired on at the Branford Patch as a dating columnist. Here, the mask served a dual purpose. It made me appear mysterious, intriguing, a model of femme mystique (or so I thought) and it “protected” my online identity so that I couldn’t be linked to my day job: an officer in the United States Coast Guard (or so I thought).
Lady officers are not really supposed to date (or so I gathered with all the disapproving looks I’d garner when I put on make-up or got caught in a story about a fun night on the town). I felt if I kept my face clean at work and hid behind the mask online, I could safely live some dual Superman-Clark Kent lifestyle.
Of course, every Superman has their kryptonite…my dating identity did not stay secret for very long. But that was my own fault.
It did not take me long to start obsessing over my new
hobby very serious job. I started thinking about all of life in terms of relationships; from my relationships with my coworkers to my relationship with my hot water heater. I could link any issue in my life as some sort of metaphor for a relationship.
I was a little out of control.
was am was am chronically single.
I decided if I kept on that path, I’d end up founding a new religion…or something. It was time to change course. Plus, love is exhausting!
My break-up with my little dating column and dedicated following of a few dozen readers was quick and natural, as I was leaving Connecticut for a summer of international adventure before returning to school in Denver.
I’m so different from the girl I was in February 2011. I’ve made peace with my previously despised nose. I don’t need to hide behind a mask any longer.
And, frankly, I am sick of dating.
I do still need to write, so I decided to start a new blog. I feel like I am running full speed into my new life, and I’m going to write about it.
Even though I am not much of a runner, this running blog is a place where I can write about picking at my own blisters and where I don’t need to worry about wearing makeup in all of my pictures.
As for the fate of this blog, I’m still undecided. Since my book compiles all of my blog posts, dating columns, the juicy details and gory back stories that made up my life between 2007 and 2012, I’ll have to consult with
the professionals my friends about leaving the raw, unedited footage of my life online. Like I said before, the internet already has too many spoiler alerts.
Thanks for reading. This has been so real.