‘Liv’ing a Lie

Your writer today is a bright, intelligent, wonderful lady…who is also rather an enigma. I first got to know her goodness-knows-where in the World Between the Wires, and was drawn to the bright avatar of a smiley, blonde-haired child she was using, as well as to her evident wit, humour and kindness. The more I got to know her, the less I realised I knew *about* her, in spite of reading her blog. There were grey areas and shadows, but the person with whom I was communicating had become a firm friend and a delightful presence in my online world.

My beautiful SisterWife Hasty has been running a #BeReal series, aimed at showing the world what ‘real’ is to each of us, and that we are all acceptable and worthy of acknowledgement and affirmation whatever we’re like – because we’re people who are just (in the end) mostly very ordinary. Gorgeous as the series is, it posed a problem for our guest…ladies and gentlemen, I give you Liv – Lizzi


A Rose by Any Other Name #BeReal

Everyone has a story to tell.  I’m no different.  I love to tell stories.  I’m lucky to have the opportunity to tell them.  And to have eyes to read them.

I can’t #BeReal in the sense of most of the SisterWives and the other posts here.

It’s not that I’m not authentic. My blog tells more truths about me and my inner workings than anyone in the world knows.  My truest feelings, my fears, my emotions – all laid bare for the world to see.

But I hide behind a façade.  A made up name.  The people who read my stories hear my voice without seeing my face.

Liv is a lie.

She speaks my words.  She lays bare my soul.  She tells my truth.

But she also lies.

To protect me.  Little lies.  White ones.  But they’re still lies.

Is it really that different from my fellow bloggers?

Writers exaggerate.  They tell tales.  About Big Fish…that were actually quite small.  There is a certain freedom to being anonymous.  As the people who would be affected by my stories don’t know I’ve written them, I am free to tell them in my own voice.

So maybe, Liv isn’t so much a lie as a truth with a different name.

A rose by any other name?
In an unprecedented interruption, I wanted to jump in and ask for YOUR thoughts on this. At SisterWives we’ve published a piece from a writer who revealed their true identity, and was variously lauded, ignored, and maligned for doing so.Today my friend is choosing to remain anonymous, and I’d be fascinated to know whether you think blogging from a point of anonymity (or at least, a closely guarded identity) is akin to catfishing, or something necessary to protect the people who the author’s stories might impact, or something which doesn’t bother you at all.

How important *is* it to #BeReal online? Would it bother you to learn that someone you’d built a relationship with was hiding behind a mask? Have YOU ever hidden your identity? How did you find it? Are we ALL just playing a role here?

Let’s talk…

 Liv By Surprise