ambersweet | Thoughts about subscriptions

Hello!

You know what I love about DW? The fact that "subscribe" and "access" are two different decisions. There are people I want to read that I don't necessarily want to let into my private life, and there are people who I want to let into my private life that I don't always have the energy to keep up with. So much drama was inherent in "friending" in LJ, and it pleases me to no end that I don't have to make those decisions any more.

Here's my philosophy on subscribing, unsubscribing, and access granting.

copperbadge refers to his subscribers as "Sam's Cafe," and I think that's a great way to think of it. An unlocked post is a conversation I'm starting in my cafe, and you're welcome to listen in or join in as it interests you. I reserve the right to boot you if you're being a poor guest, but otherwise, you can come and go as it pleases you. If you have interesting conversations in your cafe, too, I'm probably going to hang out there (i.e., subscribe). But if I get busy or I'm feeling shy, I may hang out there less, or stop joining in the conversation, or stop coming by for a while. It's generally not personal, and you're welcome to do the same as often as it pleases you.

Now, if I really like the conversations you have in my cafe, or the conversations I've had in yours, I might invite you back to my home for a conversation in my living room. The stuff I discuss here is more fraught, more personal, more introspective, than the kinds of things I'll discuss in public. I have occasional soirees where the topic of discussion is more sensitive (multiplicity, spirituality, ranting), and if you've been invited into my home, you're welcome to ask about joining one or more of those soirees, and I will generally extend an invitation to you.

If I invite you into my home (i.e., give you access), I'm hoping that you'll return the favor. There's a certain level of expectation in a friendship, that if you're in similar situations, you visit back and forth. The delightful thing about DW is that our virtual homes are essentially the same, so you don't have to worry about having enough seating for a crowd, or making sure everyone has something to eat, or if your living room is clean enough for company. But if I invite you over, and you don't ever invite me back, I might stop inviting you over, because that kind of friendship suggests a certain amount of reciprocity.

The thing is, if I extend an invitation for you to come over, you don't have to come. If you're busy, or tired, or trying to get laundry done, I don't expect you to drop everything just because I've invited you in. You can stop coming by at any time, for any reason, without prejudice. I hope that you'll treat me with the same courtesy.

Now, leaving the metaphor behind, what this means is that I don't have any expectation that you "should" read and actively keep up with my life or my journal just because I grant you access. I don't expect anyone besides

finch to read the posts here or at my public blog, and I only expect that because he's my fiance ~~and he stalks me~~. I'm pleased when people read my journal, and I'm pleased when people leave me comments, and you're welcome to read or not, and comment or not, as you have time/energy/inclination. I give people access (including access to the filters) because they've expressed an interest in reading. If you're going through a period where you don't have time to keep up with everyone on your list, by all means, feel free to unsubscribe from me. I won't take it personally, and it won't reduce my interest in you - especially if you're unsubscribing because you're feeling overwhelmed or you're out of spoons. I've been there. If I make a post I particularly want you to read, I'll drop you a comment or send you a PM. The posts I make can be upsetting, or triggering, and maybe you're in a space where you don't have the energy to deal with my angst. I also make occasional super-happy posts, and maybe you're in a space where you don't have the emotional fortitude to deal with how happy I am in my current relationship and how much I love my job - I've been in low places where I didn't want to handle someone else's happiness and success, because it depressed me. If I get busy or overwhelmed, I might temporarily unsubscribe from you, but I won't revoke your access, because I'm not going to stop inviting you over, to go back to that metaphor, because I don't feel up to leaving the house.

So that's where I stand.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

~~You love it when I stalk you.~~

~~Yes I do.~~

I tend to view it slightly differently, though at the heart of things I think our takes are similar. Granting access and subscribing to people amounts to inviting them into my space, but in my case if it's not mutual (like a friend only wanting me to come to their house and never visiting me) I'll feel weird and probably remove access and unsubscribe.

See, for me, it depends on why they want me to come over. Are they mildly agoraphobic? Do they have transportation issues? Is my schedule more flexible, so it's easier for me to carve out time to drive over there and back on top of the time we're going to spend together? Are they wildly jealous of my new spinning wheel and they don't want to have to look at it while we're hanging out? All of these are valid reasons, particularly for a short-term absence. If it's been a while, and they're still not coming over, I might ask if it's something I'm doing or something I can fix, or if they've just forgotten that my house is no longer on their list of regular places to visit, and then reassess from there. But there are ways to demonstrate that you're my friend that don't involve coming over to my house, including having conversations at your house, hanging out at other peoples' houses, or going into a cafe and hanging out there. (You know, I'm really surprised at how well this metaphor is holding up.)

I don't know. The internet isn't close enough to here-things for me to relate it in the same way. Sure, there are internet bills, but it's not the same thing as chipping out gas money to go meet up with people or worrying about owning something that someone else is jealous of. In my case, if someone adored something I owned so much, I'd probably let them borrow it and what's more, they'd know and wouldn't be afraid to ask. If they refused to come by simply because I owned something they were jealous of I doubt I'd be friends with them in the first place. >.> That's a kind of passive-aggressive I really don't need in my life.

But, yeah. Metaphors.

I subscribe to icon communities and, possibly, people I don't know well who write interesting things. I grant reading access of my personal entries to people I consider 'friends', and if they've granted me similar journal privileges I read what they write. I'm happy for their accomplishments and happiness even if I, myself, am not feeling accomplished or happy. If someone with access to my journal would rather not read my entries, I'd much prefer the honesty of having them remove my access to their journal and unsubscribe from my entries than scroll by my personal thoughts I'm allowing them to view out of friendship and trust.

I'm far less hurt by people removing my access and unsubscribing to what I write (and even doing so ambiguously!) than telling me that the content of my journal is too much for them to handle.

It's not a nice thing to tell anyone, and I certainly never would. Especially if a handful of their entries are of a personal nature and were hard for them to share in the first place.

My opinion is basically: What you choose to share on your journal is your decision, and no one is obligated to do anything in response to it. If it's hard for you to share, you should be sharing it for you, because it helps you get something out of your head, not because you're expecting someone else to respond to it.

I share a lot of things, especially on my public blog, that are hard for me to share. But that's why I share them, because I've set up a facade of "everything is okay here" for my entire life, and I'm trying to teach myself that it's okay to be vulnerable, it's okay to be open, it's okay to talk about things that have hurt me. It's okay to be not-okay.

The thing about giving people permission to be emotionally honest with you and with themselves, to be not-okay, is that it means that I'm willing to give them space to do it. That means that they get time and space to take care of themselves, and I'm willing to reach out to them even when they're not able to reach back. I've complained about non-reciprocal friendships, but I've never stopped talking to someone because I didn't feel like my emotional investment wasn't being sufficiently returned. And my commitment to emotional honesty means being willing to say to my friend who got a spinning wheel when I'd wanted one for months, when I'd longed for one with something approaching physical pain (and GOD THAT SOUNDS RIDICULOUS, but it's TRUE nonetheless), "I can't read you talking about your spinning wheel right now." When I got one of my own, I went back and read everything that she'd written about hers, and we talk about them, and it's all good. I was happy for her, but I'm not good enough at compersion for my happiness for her to outweigh the feeling of longing for myself. Granted, the spinning wheel thing was really weird, because I'm not usually a person to whom things matter; I think my need to have the spinning wheel was because it's become a central part of my spiritual life. She couldn't loan me her spinning wheel, and I can't loan someone my wonderful relationship or my beautiful apartment or my plans to move to Oregon or any of the other components of my life that someone might be envious of. When my relationship with J. was ending, I didn't have the emotional fortitude to offer support to other people, and there were days when I didn't have the mental stability to read about other peoples' happiness. And that was okay. It's okay if you need to take a break from reading my journal because you're working full-time and going to school; it's okay if you need to take a break from reading my journal because you're going through a divorce and you can't handle me talking about being engaged to the most wonderful man in the whole damn world. It's okay if you need to take a break because you think I'm boring because all I ever talk about any more is knitting, or you're just here for the fanfic and I haven't written in a coon's age. As long as you don't withdraw completely (i.e., remove my access), I'm going to assume that you're still my friend and you'll be back when you're ready. It doesn't hurt me to leave the door open for you.

Everything you've said. +1

All right, I guess we just see it differently then.

I just want to pop in and say I adore that metaphor, and that sounds like such a candid, drama free approach.

You know, this is a really good point. It may be why I'm a lot more comfortable here. I like the house/cafe metaphor

Also, completely unrelated I saw this and thought about you

ALSO THAT IS AMAZING.

I may one day fill a room with legos. Because I'm a grownup.

Can I come over when you do?

Yes! THIS WAY WE CAN HAVE EPIC LEGO BATTLES

I've been reading (and sometimes snickering at) this topic wandering all over my friends list, and you put things incredibly well. I don't always comment on as much as I read and take to heart, and I think I'm actually less likely to comment on people I talk to in real life. Part of that is wanting to bring things up real-time, and part might be that sticking my foot in my mouth has a more recognizable effect.

Thoughts about subscriptions

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