pseudonymity and the decision points for waiving it

I started writing a post that got very long - and hasn't been finished. But it occurred to me today that I should instead (perhaps) split that into some shorter posts. This portion was about intimacy and pseudonymity, the impact of meeting people through my blog and my twitter account that now know me in real life, and the decision process of deciding whether or not to meet (and "meet") them as myself. 

The beauty of having a pseudonymous blog is that you have a place to have a voice. About anything, if you are truly pseudonymous. This can be particularly powerful and important for the writer. In turn, being a reader of pseudonymous and very honest blogs can be helpful as well. I learned most of what I know about being a professor from reading the blogs of other academics.

 
Anonymity and intimacy online are negatively correlated, in my mind. The more anonymity to a blog, the more intimacy it can have. But as anonymity lessens than intimacy naturally lessens as well. This is, in some ways, one of the most amazing benefits the Internet has given us: The ability to connect with others based on intimate experiences, without as many concerns about impression management as we may have in an offline or online-but-not-anonymous interaction.

There are downsides to pseudonymity - I can't tell you the details of my research or my manuscripts, or even where I've lived.  The benefits outweigh these limitations - at least they have (to me) for the past decade. Because I have been pseudonymous for so long, I've been able to talk about the intimate details of all kinds of experiences, primarily those related to graduate school and the tenure track. I get to be open and honest. I try to be open, honest, and authentic in my offline interactions as well but like most human beings I care about what people think about me and I know that personal information, when given, cannot be retracted.

When I hear from people who read a post and it resonates with them, they often cite openness and honesty as what they found helpful about it. 

However, lately this pseudonymity has been on my mind a lot. Almost every time I sit down to write a post, some aspect of it is on my mind. When I think about the people I know reading this, am I comfortable with that? Would I be comfortable with my colleague reading this? My graduate student?

It is ironic that this honesty and helpfulness has led to the connections (i.e., people I have met via the blog and twitter) that have led me to start reconsidering my level of honesty and openness.

 
I don't know about other bloggers, but I still contemplate these issues before I introduce myself to someone. In fact, I think about these things carefully - often for weeks at a time. It's not a decision I make lightly and there are a few conditions that need to be met. In the past year, I've had tweet ups with 3 other psychologists, and I've "met" several other twitter users online, and even added a fair number to my FB friends. And every time I've had to weigh the pros and cons of doing that.

First, I will consider introducing myself if my continued relationship with that person needs my identity in order to move forward in a way I want it to. If I can be just as great of a friend to a tweep as Psyc Girl as I can as [Redacted], then why bother providing my name? In contrast, if I want to talk about my research, or an experience I have in common with some tweeps I'm going to be outed anyway - so I might as well do it. In a few scenarios I've introduced myself in order to help other twitter users in order to pass along local job ads they might be interested, or to connect them with other researchers.* However, knowing or not knowing who I am is not a sign of increased or decreased interest in a friendship.

Second, in some cases not providing my name might fundamentally alter where my relationship with them can go. In some cases, I've wanted a person to know who I am before they had an inaccurate (i.e., potentially overblown expectation that I can't live up to) impression of who I am - I worried they would be disappointed if they eventually met me. Or sometimes I'm presented with a scenario where I might need to start spinning lies to someone in order to protect my pseudonymity and it doesn't feel "right" to do that sometimes (I almost always just avoid responding, or I might decline to answer a question and explain why). 

Third, I will introduce myself if I have the impression that my relationship with that person is going to be fundamentally important to me in a context that is also offline. The beauty of the Internet is also that we can meet like-minded people. People who might exist in other locations, but who will still be important to us and who we will still care about. And I no longer let my pseudonym limit me from making those connections. 

It occurred to me that bloggers often blog about pseudonymity and intimacy etc etc - and that nothing I have to say about it is new. However, I'm not sure I've ever read someone's explanation of why and who they introduce themselves to.

 
I know sometimes other twitter users seem a bit baffled by my insistence of clinging to Psyc Girl as only Psyc Girl. And to write as if I don't carefully consider the increments of blogging freedom that will be lost when I introduce myself to someone would be inaccurate. With three of the twitter users I've met and "met" this year, I waited quite some time to introduce myself to them. Even after I decided I would, I spent several more weeks not doing so with the first and third tweeps I'm thinking of. Ultimately with the most recent person the tiniest thing changed my decision to wait: He asked what time it was where I lived. And I could have lied, but I found I didn't want to.

*In my early days of blogging, I think the concern with "outing" oneself was that these people would prove to be untrustworthy with one's pseudonymous identity. I have never had an experience of someone not protecting my pseud, often in very thoughtful and considerate ways. 

time for a regularly scheduled post about pseudonymity

When the New Year started I blogged about my ten year anniversary of blogging (this year) and some thoughts on my ambivalence about pseudonymity.

Pseudonymity seems to come up often on blogs that use one and I know I have nothing original to say about the topic. Lately I've had quite a few experiences related to pseudonymity that have me thinking about it again.

I've gotten some questions from other bloggers and twitter users about why I choose to be pseudonymous. First, being pseudonymous allows me some freedom from my blogging impacting my career or someone's impression of me as a professional (more on that in a minute). Do I want my colleagues and reviewers to know about my struggles? Yes but mostly no. That being said even though I'm pseudonymous there are several topics I don't blog about. You'll never see a story here about my students/teaching experiences or my colleagues, for example. Second, being pseudonymous gives me the freedom to be incredibly personal. It is easy to use a mask to be open.

I've also been asked lately if I'll ever de-pseudonym myself, perhaps after tenure. I don't know. I doubt it - I like the flexibility that Psyc Girl affords me. I probably will guard her less closely - right now I have a relatively tight lid on pseudonymity. I don't post photos of Cat, or the Psychmobile, photos that someone who lives here would recognize, or even my silhouette.

In the past year, I have de-pseudonymed myself for a handful of people. I became Facebook friends and have exchanged some emails with a few who have been reading the blog since basically the beginning (Hey, if you put in 10 years with this crap...). There is also a handful of my twitter followers I've given my name too - some because I've helped review materials, some because we became close friends, some because I just inherently wanted to. I even had my first tweet up last month! And I have some thoughts on that too.

First, I don't have to out myself to anyone if I don't want to. Sometimes I get the impression that people really want me too - and sometimes I want to tell them who I am, and sometimes I don't. Sometimes it's a gut call and sometimes it's just easier. I don't want to have to remember who knows who I am and who doesn't. So I err on the side of not bothering. I think I can be close to people and very genuine behind my pseudonym.

Second, I've learned that blogging and twitter can be a great way to meet like minded people. When I met up with two people from twitter (and their friends) at my conference last month I had a blast. From my perspective it was easy to spend time with them, and I felt like I knew them really well. In our day to day lives, especially as academics, I think it can be hard to meet those kind of people. Twitter cuts to the chase, in particular.

Third, I've been pleasantly surprised at how many people will respect the pseudonym and actually take the time to make sure I'm not "outed" by accident. When I give my name to someone, I'm trusting them with a lot, so I really appreciate this. And so far it has reassured me that I've given my identity to the right people.

When I blogged about my anniversary this year I said this:

And I suppose there is a little bit of this: Psyc Girl is often the better version of me - the raw me, the vulnerable me, the true and honest me. Sometimes she still feels like a separate person. What if people don't like me as much, as the woman-behind-Psyc Girl? Pseudonymity creates protective barriers as well.

The last thing I've learned is that.... people like Psyc Girl. (So, me). That is, when people get to know me through my blog, it's not as if they've run screaming in horror from my dysfunction like I expected they would. And I've realized Psyc Girl is not necessarily a different version of me - she's a fast track to knowing me more intimately. Last night I was thinking about someone in particular and thought "Holy crap. [That person] actually seems to enjoy my [online] company still, even though they have my name/know who I am." How fabulous is that? Isn't that what I've always valued - having people in my life I can be myself with? If there was ever a reason to stick with blogging for so long, this one is it.

ten years of pseudonymity

Last week I picked out my new year's "theme" (instead of resolution) for 2014. While I did my best to remain optimistic, 2013 was kind of an awful year. Some weeks it felt like putting one foot in front of the other was all I could manage to do. But that's a post for the 31st.

In 2014 I'll celebrate my ten year anniversary as a blogger. A lot has happened in ten years as a blogger, both in my personal life, in the world of academic blogging, and on my blog as well.

At the time, in 2004, blogging was an outlet I stumbled upon my accident. Somehow, some google search got me to Profgrrrrl's blog (which I miss terribly!).  That lead to other blogs, and I slowly became a regular visitor to the academic blogosphere.

I distinctly remember the night I stopped lurking and began blogging - I lived in a tiny apartment, alone, in Medium Sized City. It had a little home office that looked out over the parking lot of the apartment complex. Medium Sized City had been experiencing torrential rain for a week. My finances were in a mess due to the travel required for my long-distance relationship, that relationship wasn't working out, I wasn't getting along with Old School Advisor, and frankly I wasn't quite sure what the hell I had signed up for. Stressful Times for Psyc Girl was born.

And here I am, almost ten years later. I did not imagine that desperate act of blogging, designed to release some of my feelings of being trapped, would result in a decade of writing about grad school, relationships, dating, students, divorce, the job market, family, fertility, and life on the tenure track. Nor did I imagine many of the life experiences I've had (and written about) since this blog started. Although I've thought about quitting, and I did take an almost two-year hiatus while living in Number Two City and starting my life here in Pseudonymless City, I'm still going.

The world of academic blogging has changed a lot in ten years. Blogs have become more specialized on certain topics (e.g., getting tenure) and less of the mish mash that Stressful Times for Psyc Girl is. Science blog networks have been created. People blog under their real names, doing literature reviews and discussing contentious topics. Newspapers and science magazines have blogs. Bloggers get paid.

Edging up on 10 years, I think it is impressive that this is still (to the best of my knowledge) a pseudonymous blog. As far as I know, I've never been outed by accident - if so, those people have apparently respected my privacy and not disclosed this. Given the sheer anger, trauma, blood (literally), vomit (literally), despair, and agony that went into my graduate school experience, I'm pretty grateful for this. I'm sure blogging could have gotten me severely reprimanded, if not kicked out entirely.

Today my blogging rules remain mostly the same and I'm still pseudonymous. With some regularity I get comments and emails that thank me for being honest about my experiences. I always receive supportive comments when I need them, and a lot of the time the "regulars" I've "met" through blogging are the only ones who believe I can do this academic gig. Who tell me I can get up every day and slog on, who tell me this is normal!

Over time, I've given my name to a very small number of those fellow bloggers. One for a research project, several for their expertise in a specific area, and some for friendship. One of my very, very dear and closest friends is someone I met via psychology blogging (Hey TR!). But, in general, I haven't given out my identity to many people at all. It seems, in general, many of the academic bloggers I started writing with have either owned their identities and incorporated it in their blog, or they only use their pseudonym very loosely.

I used to blog in secret, hoping no one figured it out. As I age, move forward in my career, fall deeper into my online support network, and develop my sense of self as a 30+ year old woman, I find myself wanting to own Stressful Times for Psyc Girl more. I want to say "People! This is me! I've been writing this!" and I wonder if I will get to the point where I do so, after I secure tenure (for example).

Pseudonymity in the past meant safety to be open - I have been able to blog about many deeply personal experiences because of it: the way I was treated as a graduate student, my relationship implosion that fundamentally changed who I am, my job search and initial months on the tenure track, my chronic illness, my sometimes tenuous grasp on mental health. I find myself caring less and less about this safety, the further I go in my career and my life.

It seems lately (particularly with my rising twitter use, and the connections I have made there with others I would consider to be "my people") pseudonymity is hindering my ability to establish true relationships. I can only own so much of my offline identity. I want to connect, have a different type of closeness that can only come from being who you are - and while my online persona is really a version of my offline one (and the online one has become closer to the offline one over time), there are still walls created by a pseudonym.

The ultimate problem of course with shedding pseudonymity is this: Once you take it off, there is no putting it back on. How do you really gauge who to trust? How do you know who will protect your pseudonymity in a way that allows you to continue to blog? (The fewer people who know me, the more topics I can potentially discuss, or at least that's how it feels). What if, God forbid, I "meet" someone, trust them, and they screw me over with my employer? (okay maybe a little paranoid.... but keep in mind my blog has truly been a direct line out of some dark places over the past decade).

And I suppose there is a little bit of this: Psyc Girl is often the better version of me - the raw me, the vulnerable me, the true and honest me. Sometimes she still feels like a separate person. What if people don't like me as much, as the woman-behind-Psyc Girl? Pseudonymity creates protective barriers as well.

But lately, I just want to own who I am. Integrate Psyc Girl with me. Put down the mask, be fully vulnerable, and be who I am in the world. That being said, I don't think I can do it entirely. Instead I continue to be less careful with protecting details, more willing to trust others, and just continue to ponder... what would an online life without a protective mask be like?

And that is where I'm stuck (a post with no resolution).