Three-Year Blogaversary: Resilience, Gifts, and Not-Quitting

I just received this notice from WordPress:

This makes me smile, for just this morning, while strolling through the garden, I began composing my three-year blogaversary post. I thought the blogaversary was a few days away and that I was early–but here it is, today!

While I was thinking of what I wanted to comment on about this past year, my heart kept turning towards some of the challenging points of my three-year involvement with SimLit blogging. Some of my friends and several acquaintances have been targets of cyber bullying through their blogging and involvement with the SimLit community. I’ve experienced some meanness, too.  When this happens, we often think, “Why stay with this? Why not quit?” And, indeed, sometimes, withdrawing for a while, to heal, rebuild confidence, and regain strength is the best strategy.

Over the past three years, each time I’ve considered whether I wanted to stay or withdraw, I’ve chosen to stay. This creative outlet gives me something that adds to my life, and I love the SimLit community.

During my first six months of blogging and being part of the SimLit community, I felt I’d found a niche. The community was small, friendly, open, welcoming, accepting, diverse, and a little bit quirky. It seemed possible to read and keep up with all the new TS4 stories, and almost possible to get to know all the writers. We had fun, goofy, and inspiring collabs; we celebrated each other’s legacy births and weddings, and mourned the passings of each other’s founders, heirs, spouses, and spares. I was full of joy for nearly all of those six months: I’d found my place online.

During the second six months, I experienced a painful situation common to many bloggers and collaborators. I had a public falling-out with a close friend and collaborator that ended in a personal attack made in the comments on my blog. It was the result of a misunderstanding, and looking back, I wish I’d been able to handle the situation with more grace and skill. I don’t regret the post I made that brought on the attack, for I was clarifying misinformation about me, my beliefs and attitudes, and my approaches to game-play that had been publicly posted. It’s within our rights to clarify misinformation that’s posted about us. I regret my lack of skill in handling the situation: Causing pain to someone I love and admire is deeply regrettable, as is the loss of a friendship–or several.

My own pain surrounding this event was sharp and raw around the time of the first Blogaversary celebration, during which we acknowledged many of the one-year-old SimLit blogs. I had come close to cancelling the event, and I seriously considered quitting altogether. I’m glad we held the celebration: I look back fondly on our enthusiasm as readers and writers. I’m glad I stuck with blogging. It was during my second year of blogging that I finished Goofy Love and started many other stories which have been gratifying to me.

During my second year of blogging, I learned cyber bullying happens in the Simming community. BullyOnline.org offers this definition of cyber bullying:

Cyber bullying is the misuse of communication technology (email, SMS texts, social networks, Internet forums etc) for conducting campaigns of hatred. The impersonality and distance between bully and target makes such technology an effective means to cause conflict and hurt.

Types of Bullying, from BullyOnline.org

One of my good friends has been the target of bullying through a Sims site that promotes these types of  “campaigns of hatred.” I was shocked to discover this site existed and dismayed to see the extent of harm that it causes. Each week, people are torn down by the hateful comments posted there.

What happened to that “friendly, open, welcoming, accepting, diverse” community I fell in love with during my first six months of blogging? Could that still exist alongside a community that systematically tears down other people?

And should I stay involved with a community that had these corners in it? Once again, I considered quitting.

Of course, even though I was just discovering this subterranean corner, it didn’t mean that it was new. It had been going on for nearly a decade and had been just as violent during the six months I thought the community was bliss.

During my third year of blogging, I learned that derogatory comments had been made toward me in the cyber bullying corner. It explained a lot: the shifts in attitude, the cold-shoulders, the unaccounted for spikes in readership on a few blog posts, as well as the dropping-off of readers. Sensitive people can pick up when feelings towards them change, even when there is no evidence at hand for what’s causing this. As I discovered these posts and comments about me, I noticed that they correlated with the times when I noticed these changes in attitude.

Online gossip and hate cause ripples, even when the targets aren’t aware that the comments have been made.

I didn’t feel safe. When I talk with others who’ve experienced these situations, that’s what they say, too: “I don’t feel safe.”

It makes us question why we stay involved. Even though I was able to think through the comments made about me and regain some confidence and resilience, I still questioned being involved with a community where this type of behavior happened.

I stay because I’m a Kindness Warrior. I fully believe that kindness is stronger than hate. I know that stories about love, mindfulness, strength, resilience, compassion, and bravery make a difference.

I’m committed to keeping active in the official EA Sims Forums, to welcome newcomers, to encourage discouraged writers, to create and participate in joyful collaborations, and to create corners in the community that are safer, more accepting, more supportive, more welcoming, and that are brave enough to confront our behaviors, attitudes, and practices that aren’t safe, accepting, supportive, or welcoming.

We don’t have to give in to hate or fear. We do need to take care of ourselves, maintain our boundaries,  and to surround ourselves with supportive, encouraging, loving people.

I’m not entirely sure why I’m writing about this during my three-year blogaversary: It’s not exactly a celebratory post. It is a resolution. It’s a resolution not to be blind about the hurtful things that happen. It’s a resolution to speak against bullying. It’s a resolution not to believe lies against others. It’s a resolution to have your back.

If you’ve been a target of cyberbullying in the SimLit community, I’m here to offer you support. I’ll believe you, not the lies told against you.  You’re not alone. Take the time you need to heal, regain your confidence and your strength, and when you’re ready to come back, I’m here to welcome you.

I hope other Kindness Warriors will join me. It’s our community: Let’s keep it a safe haven for diverse, lovely, quirky, creative people.

We are so much stronger than hate.

If you have experienced cyber bullying, please tell someone you trust. You need support. You might also find these tips helpful:

• How to Heal After a Cyber Bullying Experience (from WikiHow)
• Ten Tips for Healing after a Cyberbully Attack (from the Christa McAuliffe School for Arts and Sciences)
• Dealing with Cyberbullying: Online and Dangerous (from psychcentral – written for parents of teens who’ve experienced cyberbullying, this contains useful information for adults, too.)

Septemus 26

Dear Sept,

We’ve been expanding our circle of friends. Your friend Lucas’s big brother, Wolfgang, has started hanging out at our place. He seems troubled. I don’t mind giving him advice when he comes asking about school and college applications and financial aid forms. I know plenty about those. He’s just so angry. I’m not sure how to help with that. My poppie always said, “Don’t judge an angry man. This isn’t an easy world, and you never know what road they’ve been down.” So, I try compassion.

But this angry young man has brought something into our lives that threatens to squeeze out any compassion I can feel. He’s showing you a harsh reality of life on this earth. It’s the way it is, but I was hoping to keep that harshness from you for as long as I could.

He broke your dollhouse.

“That was clumsy of him,” you said. “He should look where he was going.”

I should have kept my mouth shut. I would have, if I’d known how much it would upset you. But I didn’t know. Back in my youth, I learned about the cruelty of others before I learned to walk. But this is something new to you.

So when I said without thinking, “It wasn’t an accident,” I let the full force of that cruelty come rushing into your world. It shattered it.

You were still sad when you came home from school the next day.

“Look,” I said. “I fixed the dollhouse. Didn’t you notice? It’s not broken anymore.”

“I’m not sad over the dollhouse,” you said. “I know you fixed it. It’s OK. I know that. Thankyouvermuch. I’m sad that someone could break it on purpose. It’s somebody’s home! It’s our dolls’ home! How could they break someone’s home?”

I tried to explain the feelings that could make someone do something like that.

“Suppose you felt really bad inside,” I said. “Like everyone was against you. You didn’t have a chance. Life was unfair. You weren’t sure what you were going to do. All the pressure’s piling on. And inside, you just feel bad. Jumbled, mad, angry, scared, alone.”

You looked at me.

“So then, with all those emotions scrambling your mind and body, you need some kind of release. Maybe if you break something, you’ll feel better, you think. So you crash the nearest crushable thing.”

You wailed. “It’s so mean! It only wrecks things and makes people feel bad and then the mad person still has all that madness only now they feel bad for wrecking everything for everyone else! Oooh! It sucks!”

I hadn’t heard you wail like that since you were a little one grieving for your bizaabgotojo.

“And it’s not even an accident,” you said, once you could talk again. “It was on purpose. How can people be mean? It doesn’t make sense!”

“Everybody has meanness in them,” I said. You looked at me with disbelief. “It’s part of being a person. Maybe you don’t, because maybe beings are wired differently where you come from, but here, on this planet, it’s part of being a person. Blame it on evolution. But goodness–being kind and gentle and understanding–that’s part of us, too. If we always go getting all upset at every instance of meanness, then it doesn’t give much of a chance for the goodness to grow. I think we should be patient with Wolfgang. At least then, we’ll have good feelings inside of us.”

You took a big breath. You sighed it out. You closed your eyes, and I saw that blue rose inside myself that I see when you’re shooting your love to me.

I heard the word sintuliyu. You’re a peace-bringer, Sept.

You know, I’ve been wondering a lot what brought you all here. I mean not in the realm of cause-effect: I know on that level it was an “accident”–the ship you were on crashed, and now you and your siblings are here. But I’m not so sure about accidents. On the level I’m thinking of, the cosmic level, everything happens for a reason. There are no accidents. So on that level, what brought you here?

We know that when there’s a space, it’s filled. We have a big gap here–a big yawning maw–for peace. You’re the peace-bringer, kid. And I think that’s what brought you here.

Your pops, drinking in your peace, every day.

–Seb

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Forgotten Art: Jasper – Liam 4

A reply to: A letter from Liam

Greetings Liam!

I received the most surprising letter the other day. It was from your step-daughter Alina!

Since she wrote, I am guessing that the danger is passed, that she’s returned to the living, and that the curse has been lifted.

I certainly hope so.

I worried for her, you, and your family.

Of course, worry is foolish. I know this!

But even still, when those we care for are in trouble, it’s hard to banish worry with a thought.

You mentioned that magic seemed to be rubbing off on me. I hadn’t thought of it in that way. I had thought that your letters and the power of your words were opening my eyes to the magic that was always around me–that everyday magic that we’re often too busy to notice. Or maybe it’s just that we don’t conceive that it could be here, in this world, in this moment, and so we don’t see it, we only feel it as an invisible buzz around us.

But maybe it is as you say, and, in addition to opening my eyes to everyday magic, your words open the channels between our worlds and magic enters in.

Could be.

I received a most interesting phone call the other day.

It was from my niece. Nothing unusual in that, right?

Except she had an appointment and she wanted to know if I could come babysit.

Now, I’ve volunteered to babysit my grandniece Jena many times. And now and then, Meadow will drop her off at my home while she spends a precious half-hour taking a walk or getting a cup of coffee.

But this day was different.

I’d be babysitting at Meadow and Jena’s home, and my niece would be gone all afternoon.

It may seem a small thing, but to me, it’s close to a miracle that Meadow has developed enough trust in her daughter’s safety that she’d leave her for an entire afternoon, even though she’s leaving her at her own home with her favorite (and only) uncle.

You see, Meadow’s been fretting about Jena’s past. Jena’s birth mother died giving birth, and, because Jena was born out-of-wedlock, she was shunned by most of the people there at the refugee camp. When Meadow learned of Jena’s past, she took it hard, worrying that trauma from those years might affect Jena’s present happiness.

I’ve been trying to convince Meadow that her little girl is happy, healthy, and well-adjusted. Taking this step of letting me watch her for an entire afternoon shows me that, sure enough, Meadow is beginning to trust in her daughter’s well-being.

I’m also smiling at the reason that Meadow needed a sitter for an afternoon. She’s considering volunteering at a shelter for women and children.

Now that’s a good thing! Meadow has so much to offer others, and she hasn’t always realized it, not because of lack of self-confidence, but due to the assumption that everyone had it as good as she did.

My niece and nephew were raised in privilege, and my brother and his wife did a good job in raising them to be good people. At the same time, they’ve lived in a bubble of good luck.

Jena and her tenuous first years at the refugee camp introduce hardship’s touch, and now both Meadow and her brother have begun to look for ways to make a difference for those suffering in this wide world.

I thought about this while babysitting that afternoon.

My thoughts mingled with the stories you told in your letter.

It would be so easy for those stories of loss and danger to weigh heavy and to weaken one’s faith in the goodness of life.

But look at you! Look at the wisdom, kindness, and generosity you carry! Look at the sacrifice each member of your family and clan are eager to make for another’s benefit.

Look at how Meadow, and even my nephew Norman, are now looking for ways to help others, to make even one life easier.

It’s one thing to be good in heart and good by nature.

It’s entirely different for hardship’s shadow to prompt us to put that goodness into action.

That’s when caring becomes compassion: goodness plus action.

So, yes. I would say that magic is indeed rubbing off on me and on my family.

Alchemy is magic, right? And when suffering and hardship transmute to trust and compassion, that is pure alchemy.

Thank you for encouraging Alina to write me! I look forward to getting to know her.

Wishing you health!

Your friend,

Jasper

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