The tweets come in daily, I get their latest news in emails, tweets & blogs or flipping through my Flipboard. My friends really know how to communicate. And I’m in their inner circle. From great recipes from my pals David and Heidi to inside travel tips from good buddies Peter & the Gypsies David & Veronica and the best book ideas from my dearest confidante Maria, my life is full of amazing, enriching people who care and share with me.

Or that’s the illusion.  The Internet has created this personal intimacy with people you’ll never run into. They live lives that appear far more fascinating than yours but they are gracious enough to include you in it.To treat you as one of their closest friends. Or so it seems.

When I started Nobluehair, I wanted a place to explore the passage of growing older. What does it mean to age in a society that so desperately fears the end of time?  I wanted a place to stay engaged, curious and creative every day of my life and hoped others were seeking same. My blogging journey started safely with complete anonymity. I didn’t want fame. In fact, at first I didn’t tell anyone I knew that I was writing.  I didn’t want to be judged. But then I caught the blogging contagion, AKA Jungle Fever— AKA the Klout syndrome—I wanted more readers… and more… and more.  And that meant letting people know my blog existed.  It meant promoting it to everyone I knew And soon, people arrived. Some left a comment or a like but most left soundlessly leaving a touch so soft that only WordPress counted it.  I gathered “impressions,” not friends.

What I’ve noticed over the past two years of blogging is that I, too, follow other bloggers soundlessly. I don’t leave a trace. I’m simply a voyeur of their lives and thoughts. They don’t wish me Happy Birthday. They don’t call. I don’t call them.  They may have hard days, setbacks, runny noses and broken toes. But these “professional” bloggers don’t share these less than perfect parts with me. They present us with “curated” lives not messy ones. They don’t share the “real” parts of their day. They may have bad hair & relationship days but they don’t tell me that.  Real friends do.  Yet, when I read their moderated musings, I experience a connection that feels like friendship. But isn’t.

So, that’s my Internet confession.  Some chase Hollywood celebrities. Others chase Internet bloggers. I’m the latter. But let’s face the facts. We may be faithful fans of these online personalities, but their curated posts are not the same as shared lives.  Though it’s fun to pretend they really are my BFFs, I think I’ll go call a girlfriend.

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