As a blogger, it doesn’t matter if you write about something as trivial as a dislike of a pop singer, or something as private as a decision to breastfeed… someone, somewhere is going to take it personally.

We are allowed to disagree.  I don’t have to like everything in the world, and I certainly don’t expect the world, my friends or even my husband, to like everything about ME and my choices.  It would be absurd to think it could be any other way.

I don’t know if it was the steady stream of vegans ramming my inbox with what I felt was an agenda completely detached from reality (this is where the blogger is obligated to write “but not ALL vegans have no clue what actually happens on my farm!”), or the folks telling me I am going to kill my children by not giving them the flu shot (“but you are free to make a decision about vaccination that is right for you!”), or the Little Monsters crying into my .Mac account that Gaga’s skimpy clothes are part of her humanitarian efforts, how DARE I insult the princess (“but we all have different tastes, and we should honor her feminist efforts!”)

I don’t know what exactly the final straw was, but it gets to be a drag when sharing ANY aspect of my life, or my opinions I have to write (or feel concerned about NOT writing) some pathetic hand holding caveat.  It’s lame.  What is more lame, NO CAVEAT, is if my blog hurts your feelings because I don’t want to buy chicken from the grocery store, or send my kids to public school, or write endless caveats.

I wrote this blog to share my experiences, in hopes of inspiring others who might want to follow a similar path.  I wrote because it came naturally, and I enjoyed doing it.

I would like to think that it is egomania that leaves people so high strung that they think every post is about them.  That every step of my life, if it is out of step with theirs, is a put down on my part, to them directly.  That they should take everything… personally.  I think that erring on the side of overconfidence would be preferred to my secondary feeling.  The sadness I feel for someone, taking offense on behalf of farm cats, pastured pigs, performance artists (“but who will stand up for the kitties!” cries someone, somewhere out there).

I hate to end this with a colloquialism but, my question to those  personally offended on behalf of The Kitties is, how far do you think you can walk with the weight of the world on your shoulders?