Bloggers told to “Drink a cup of Cement”

My friend Mrs. O’Neill lent me a copy of Sarah Knight’s very funny book The Life-Changing magic of not Giving a Fuck. In it, she dismantles a whole heap of emotions such as guilt, obligations and shame. With modern life dictating to us that BUSY IS GOOD, there are a whole heap of us out there who are struggling to keep our heads above water. This I know to be true.

A couple of years ago I was at a thing where Mamamia’s Head Honcho Mia Freedman was speaking. I caught up with her afterwards and we were chatting about this and that when I asked her how did she deal with online negativity. She looked me in the eye and without hesitating she suggested that I “drink a bowl of cement” every morning. Now I bring this up as yesterday, as I was putting the house back together after the child tsunami swept through, I caught a segment on one of those morning shows. They were interviewing a blogger about online hate, and how she had been badly bullied online, which is perhaps one of my worst nightmares.

I am not so naive to think I should bake a cake out of rainbows and smiles, but then again, I also do not want to follow the cement drinking path either.

When it comes to fight or flight, I am out of there faster than a plate of pork buns at Yum Cha on a Sunday morning. You can ask any of my friends or family, I am one of the least confrontational lass in the world. It annoys the shit out of them sometimes. I would much rather push issues to the back of the closet and deal with them later. Although I do have a certain admiration for those who can confront drama. I remember once, I was having an issue with a dear friend. I had neatly folded it up and popped it into the bottom drawer when she called me on it with these little words…

“Do we need to talk about something?”

Stomach flips, world goes dizzy and my heart raced.

Truth is that we are all walking around with masks on. Some are looser than others while some are strapped on like a that dude from Pulp Fiction. BRING OUT THE GIMP. A few times a week, I write down my feelings on this blog, or spin a yarn. I expose myself and my soft (well, very soft) underbelly. I let my vulnerability bubble to the surface for all and sundry to read and think and judge and smile and scoff and scorn. That reaction, well I have no control over it. So why do I do it?


In a world of online female writers who are brave, strong, opinionated and amazing I quite often see water flying off their backs. As much as I have tried over the years, I just cannot be that tough. Truth be told, it turns out that I DO give a fuck about things. It is the result of being an over-thinker. Perhaps I am in the wrong game, or perhaps the game has changed.

So I am interested in you.

Where would you rate yourself on the GIVE A FUCK scale?

Are you brave or do you bruise easily?