Do I Really Want To “Meet The Blogger”?

Don’t we all?

Haven’t most of us, if not all, at some point expressed the wish that we could meet in person those with whom we have become friends in this online community of bloggers?

Some have already taken that step. Some have met bloggers who live nearby. Some have journeyed half a world away to clap eyes on the one who has loitered in their comment box for some time.

For those who have experienced this oft-expressed desire, how was it? How did you feel before the meeting? Excitement and anticipation? Or anxiety and fear? A bit of both?

How was the actual meeting? Was the blogger who you thought he/she would be? Did you talk as easily as you do at the virtual dinner table?

And what about afterwards? Was the online relationship the same or changed? Did you remain online friends or did meeting in person change your view of the other (or vice versa) so much that you are no longer in contact?

On Tuesday morning I will board an aeroplane bound for the City of The Great Iron Coat Hanger and The Iconic Operatic Sails to face my first “Meet The Blogger” occasion. Am I nervous? Only to the point of feeling like I’m going to throw up.


This is who I’m going to meet!


Sorry. Actually, this is The Blogger.

A little while ago I wrote in another post how I believe we can present the best side of ourselves in our online persona and that it is so much easier to hide the faulty parts of ourselves from those who only know us out in the ether. So what does that mean if we cross the border to personally meet friends who only know our online selves?

Will we be the person they expect? Will the irritating sides of ourselves that we have so carefully kept at bay rear their heads to shock our companion? Will our friend, by four o’clock in the afternoon, regret the offer made to stay with them??

Perhaps the title of this post should actually be “Does The Blogger Really Want To Meet Me?“.

I guess we’ll find out soon enough.


(Images Copyright to Margaret-Rose Stringer.)




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A War of Expectations

War of Expectations

I expected to be there. After walking this long journey with him, how could I not?

They expected me to be here. Commitment required it.

A war of expectations. Meet the expectations of others or the one of my heart?

A choice seemingly easy. Except for my own expectations, born of a sense of obligation and of high standards for myself.

If not here, I risk failure, letting down others in the process.

If not there, I miss the culmination of a decades-long journey, a moment that will never come again.

A war of expectations.

The expectations of others wins out. Consideration of the needs of others outweighs the yearning of my own heart.

We may be slaves to expectation but so often the expectations of our heart are not the ones we serve.

A war of expectations.

May my heart find peace one day.


(Congratulations to my brother-in-law who today was ordained as a Minister of the Word after a long and difficult journey. Wish so much I could have been there but the show must go on.)

Written in response to events that timed with the Daily Post Weekly Writing Challenge – Great Expectations.



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