Three years ago when I stared blogging on the Huffington Post, I was lost, confused and immature. I used this platform to indulge on whatever topics I felt like blogging about, sometimes blurting out my feelings without properly directing my words, or taking the time to measure the extent of my privilege as a young HuffPost blogger.
After I learned I wasn't using it wisely to build my brand, I took it too personally. Stopped blogging altogether.
As the year 2012 came to an end, I realized shame haunts other people as well. Jacintha Saldanha commited suicide because of it. A horrible day in Newtown, Connecticut tainted a family... And here I was, feeling sorry for myself, because I couldn't erase my social media presence and it looked bad for my future employment opportunities.
I can't erase who I was, and honestly, I don't want to. Before I became a mother I had a risky, extravagant personality. I craved adventure and recognition. I talked often without filtering my thoughts. I wasn't rude or anything, just shared too much with too many people.
In search of my passion, I discovered being transparent is who I am. Maybe now I don't make hasty decisions like before, but I love asking intimate questions to people, and getting to know them. I love sharing anecdotes and finding similarities (and disparities) in our lives. If I could profit from it, I would collect stories. Penelope Trunk crushes this.
I can't care about the stickiness of bad decisions in the social media stratosphere. One day you are Kristen Stewart, being mauled by the press and called trampire by her angry fans. A couple of months later, you're still Kristen Stewart, happily dining on Mexican food with Robert Pattinson in London, and the Robsten drama continues, except nobody cares anymore (if you're not a Twilight fan, that is).