An Open Letter to the Male Parental Unit

Dad, I know that you read this blog. I know it because the Internet is not as anonymous as you think it is. What especially irks me is that you read it compulsively, but not openly. You do it in the clandestine corners of your office, and you won’t admit to it.

Well, now you see. I don’t converse with middle-aged pedophiles. I don’t trade in illegal substances. I don’t make money selling porn. I don’t plan criminal activities. And I don’t need to be monitored by you.

You probably think that I am closed off and aloof in person, and you want to “get to know” me better by peeking at my online ramblings. It doesn’t work that way. My Internet persona is vastly different from my real one, and if you think I’m losing touch with reality, let me assure you that I am only too painfully aware of reality and my part in it.

My blog is only a Polaroid snapshot: you get to see my face, but you only see one face, one pose, one angle. What is lost in translation is flesh and blood and soul. Yes, a photo of me is clearer than a fuzzy silhouette, but it is also more deceptive. You may think you know me, but what you know is a meticulously constructed façade that mimics, but never perfectly depicts me. I’m sure you understand how the Internet unites us across a physical distance but drives us apart on the emotional plane.

I ask that you respect me as a daughter, as a fellow human being, and stop reading because I ask you to. I seek a freedom to express without the stifling presence of a vigilante looking over my shoulder with every word. I ask you allow me that as I could easily pack up or kill this place altogether. I don’t want to play virtual hide-and-seek with you because it is annoying,frustrating and above all, it is for children.

P.S. Flippant attempts at being witty on the blog should not be interpreted as accurate psychological markers. See what I mean in saying the blog is deceptive? I only write about film so much because it’s easier; it’s less messy than real life. Filmmakers have already done the hardest job of distilling life into a tangible medium, and it’s easier to write about film than life in the same way it’s easier to eat French fries than raw potatoes. Just because I eat more French fries doesn’t mean I think it’s healthy.