while(self++) { #11 } // Who Cares? Ruminations On The Personal Essay
Why would anyone care about what I have to say? The fact that anyone reads this series (besides a few people close to me) somewhat surprises me. It’s not that I have nothing to offer, but perhaps... that is what it is? Sometimes, I write a piece that people genuinely want to know about. But in general, I come to few conclusions. I mostly ruminate. My last post, How to be a Hypocrite, is a perfect example of this. Genuinely — who cares? A friend mentioned to me that she once took a risk and submitted a personal essay to a publication that didn’t normally accept personal essays. Not only did the editor reject her submission, but he felt the need to denounce the idea of personal essays altogether, calling them self-indulgent. He criticized her for even trying. It’s not as if she was famous, he told her.
But aren’t personal essays self-indulgent? To write about oneself and assume that people will care? To some extent, I think it is. However, people don’t only write to appease other people. And celebrities don’t own a monopoly on interesting life experiences. Ultimately, I think it all boils down to a desire for human connection. I want people to understand what I'm saying — to understand me — and gratify those written thoughts with an "I know exactly how you feel." Writing as a form of emotional and intellectual validation. Even more so, I want people to push back on my thoughts and ideas (without being assholes about it). It shows that people do care, at least enough to engage me in constructive conversation without being unnecessarily harsh.
