Chapter 4: Privacy and Accountability

This is not my blog to talk about World of Warcraft, but an issue they have recently had is giving me food for thought on a broader scale. The issue was that they were going to add real first and last names to forum posts in an effort to curb forum trolling and to make the forums a more open and welcoming environment. In fact, in the first minute of seeing it I thought it was a wonderful idea and was looking forward to the greater accountability people would have for their words. I'm not too afraid of linking my real name to my online persona, and I behave the same whether I have anonymity or not.

After some time for thought and after reading the arguments of others, I began to rethink my initial position. There are several special cases where having a real name linked to a fantasy world persona could be harmful. Teachers, LBGT, celebrities, or anyone who is dealing with a stalker could be at risk of losing their jobs, their sense of security, or simply peace of mind while trying to unwind. This may be a small portion of the gaming community, but that doesn't diminish their concerns.

There is great potential for abuse in such a system, and the premise that real names will increase accountability is inherently flawed. In my own message to Blizzard on the issue I said:

I work at an online moderation company, and a few of the accounts we handle have us moderate Facebook pages. Real names are all over the place there, but I can assure you from experience and a healthy use of my delete key that there are plenty of trolls despite being stripped of their anonymity. Real names don't keep people from being nasty, rude, crude, spiteful, dangerous, and hateful there. They won't keep it from happening here.

Real names alone are not a solution to increasing accountability, and they're certainly not worth the price of loss of privacy in this particular situation. It was with great relief that I saw this morning that they had put further thought into the situation and rescinded their decision. The other tools they proposed at the same time should be sufficient. Threaded comments threads will give people a direct line to those they wish to speak to about their online behavior without feeling they will be lost in the din. "Karma" points can be used to let even socially inept people know if their posts are well received. Yes, I've seen such systems abused in past forums I've participated in, but the current forums frankly can't get much worse.

That doesn't mean I don't think there's a time and a place for using real names to ensure accountability. I just happen to think that an online game is not the appropriate place for it. There are better ways to combat trolls and encourage greater accountability online in such an environment. Every case of online moderation is situational and the environment must be looked at within the context of the user base in order to understand how best to combat undesirable messages.

Chapter 3: The Warning Fable

(disclaimer: this is a serious post with a little bit of TMI and personal info, read at your own risk)

It hasn't even been a year yet.

This time last year, I had an eye infection that lingered too long. I almost went blind, and my ex couldn't take care of me. He had to beg his girlfriend to let him have money to get an STD test/treatment from another girlfriend he'd found. I'm pretty sure sharing a towel with him is what gave me the eye infection, and I'm lucky I didn't catch more from him. Because his definition of safe was completely different from mine.

And that's why a year is just not enough time.

Yes, I knew he was "cheating". I put that in quotes because the situation was complicated. We had an open relationship from the start. His definition of open was just completely different from mine.

It started out that as long as we were honest and safe, and got approval from each other first, we could have the occasional tryst. I'm not the jealous type. I recognize jealousy for the insecurity that it is, and I used to be a very trusting person. I mean, if you love someone and they love you, you should be able to trust each other, right? Because you don't go out of your way to hurt someone you love, right?

Maybe his definition of love was completely different from mine, too.

Now I jump at every shadow. I'm still hurting from the things that were done. There were two guys I thought about wanting, and now there are none. Because with either one I'd be risking myself to being hurt again. Because with either one I'd be settling for less than what I need right now. One who mocks anyone with a shred of belief in something bigger, and the other who is just too sneaky and dishonest for what I need. I don't know if he's ever been sneaky or dishonest with me...I'm pretty sure he hasn't. But I'm constantly left unsatisfied and a little bit worried by little things he says. "It's just for fun," is a big one. It's a line I've heard over and over again, and it's a code for, "I want to use you and be able to walk away without consequences." And sometimes I'm okay with that. I'll be honest. There have been times where that's what I needed. But that time is not now.

Maybe I've grown up. Maybe I've just been hurt too much. Maybe it's a little of both. I don't know. But by trusting the wrong person, I nearly went blind. By trusting the wrong person, I faced consequences that were just too high. So it will be a while still before I can trust anyone to that extent again.

I'm not saying it will never happen. Part of who I am is that I will never give up hope. I might act bitter and defensive because I'm afraid, but I can't give up hope. When I love, I love with all my heart. I love with everything I have, with everything I am. Maybe I'll never love a lover that much again, but I won't give up hope in that possibility. And I cry sometimes because thinking there is no hope is too much for me to bear.

I'm not looking for perfection. Anyone I date will have to be as flawed as I am, or I'll grow insecure and magnify my flaws a million times. I need someone who sees me as I am and loves me for my flaws as well as they appreciate my greatness. Someone good enough. Just good enough. And if I never find that person, I'm okay with that. A little sad and lonely, but it beats the alternative.

And if I date someone who can't take me as I am, that's fine. No really, it is. It just means I haven't found The One yet. And so far, I haven't met The One. I'm all about compromise, but I won't compromise who I am. I won't change to fit someone else's ideals. If I'm not what they want, well, they'd better get back out there and find the person they do want!

And that's okay, too.

I'm done feeling rejected because of incompatibility. I'm over it. At least, in theory. I'm not so in love with the idea of being in love anymore that I'll cling to anyone who shows any sort of interest in me. I used to. But look where that got me. Sometimes it's MORE lonely to get what you think you want when you finally realize it's not what you wanted at all.

It took nearly going blind to learn that lesson. I'll never forget that one. In a relationship you need to find someone you can trust, not just trust someone you can find.

Chapter 2: Starting Over

Since I'm on chapter two, it might be obvious I'm at a new beginning. I mean, not The Beginning, because I was too little to write back then. It's just a restart. Life 2.0 or something like that. Well, more like 5.3 because I've had a few traumatic resets. And don't get me wrong, this last reset was a kind of trauma, too.

It was also a relief.

So here it is, another beginning.

Not as drastic as new beginnings on Doctor Who. Still the same face, the same wardrobe. Still the same TARDIS--oh, wait. Damn, still don't have one of those. Some childhood dreams are doomed to never be fulfilled.

I should check into that wardrobe thing, though. Might do me some good to change my image up a bit.

More than purple hair, that is. Which has faded out. And now looks lavender in spots and white in others, with copious amounts of my natural hair color...and whoa, that's not the point. Wardrobe is not hair.

Wardrobe is not change.

A friend of mine congratulated me on rebirthing myself, and asked if I had tips to share. I really don't. I would have stayed longer in my comfort zone if I could have. Even when it was painful and scary, it was comfortable not having to be strong.

And right now, I'm still a giant baby. I'm surviving only thanks to the kindness of my family (who in all honesty are kinda stuck with me now, probably for a lot longer than they'd like). I already owe them more than I'll ever be able to pay back, and it's frustrating that I just can't walk on my own. I'm not good at these sorts of things.

You keep going. You accept that there will be bad days, days when you don't see you've made any progress at all, and you let them fall behind you. Don't dwell. Don't beat yourself up. If you feel like you can fly and you can solve all your problems that day with plenty to spare, you do that. If you fall short, you accept that. If you spend a week feeling like you can't even crawl, then you inch forward and don't be scared to ask for help.

And oh, that's the one I suck at. I can't stand to ask for help.

But I keep trying. I do what I can. And I don't let myself dwell on what I can't.

Because there's still a lot I can't.

That's okay. There's a lot of can't to go around. Nobody's perfect at everything, and nobody who is honest expects you to be, either.

I'm having a down day, where I'm a lot overwhelmed by a lot of things, but I'll get there. I might fall back a few steps, but I'm not standing still. I'm forcing myself forward. And I'm the only one I have to prove that to.

Chapter 1: Why Prince Charming...Wasn't.

I grew up wishing for someone to rescue me. To save me from whatever situation I couldn't seem to motivate myself out of. That's what princesses did. They waited to be rescued, to be taken away to the prince's castle, to endure many hardships until the prince took her to his castle, and finally to live happily ever after.

I didn't really believe that would happen to me. Not literally. I'm not delusional. But I grew up on these stories, and I still had this idea that that's how things should work. I should keep my life on hold and endure until someone took me away to my new life. I would find true and epic love, and that would make all of my problems worth it in the end.

Yes. I totally bought into That Great Lie. The anti-feminist ideal that says I'm nothing without a man who will provide a home with a picket fence and all I have to do is raise our 2.5 children and make my man happy.

And the Prince Charmings who come to that call aren't princes, and after a while they're anything but charming.

It was after my last breakup that I realized what I was saying by wanting Prince Charming. I was saying I was a victim who needed saved. What kind of guy is attracted to victims? Predators.

I was begging for a predator in shining armor, little realizing how soon it would become tarnished.

On top of it all, it's a lot of pressure to put on would-be princes of the genuine kind. I wanted an idea, an ideal, and I had no idea what I wanted except "interested in me back". With my knockers, that's not too hard to find. But it's the aggressive ones who stuck their necks out for the sake of larger-than-average boobs and a face that wasn't hideous. Face optional, since guys don't generally tend to look that high. But I was so insecure and passive that I took it all at face value, and believed every word that locked me in as theirs alone.

At 16 I dated a guy who told me he would have to get an awesome job, because frankly I had no marketable skills. He was my Prince Charming at the time. I would have done anything for him, I was scared of losing him, and he needed to make sure I stayed that way. Because he wasn't a prince. And he wasn't charming.

And he wasn't the only one.

I'm no longer a "maiden fair". I am an unwed mother. My last relationship of ten years, I wasn't even worth the guy finding his ex-wife so he could get a divorce and marry me.

I'm a little bit bitter. But, I'm also a little bit grateful. Not to him, but to fate. I finally learned the Prince Charming fallacy. I don't want a knight in shining armor. I don't want a rescue. I want a good life, and I can do that on my own.

It's not anything new to many women out there, but this might be a new concept to a few little girls and teenagers. We're still taught the tales of old. We're still fed the sweet lies that promise better days if we shut up, endure, know our place, and need a rescue.

We live in a world where we can make our own happily ever afters. Where we can be charming and be equals to our partners of either gender. Where we can be satisfied in knowing that we've made our own dreams come true, and no man can take them away from us because they're our own.

Live in this world, not in the tales. Wake up, Princess. Wake yourself up and win your own battles, over IRS agents and property managers and anyone with "can't" on their lips. These are the dragons, the witches, the evil step-mothers of our day, and the princesses can't wait in captivity for someone else to fight anymore. We can do it.

Yes, we can.

Once upon a time...

That's how faerie stories start, right? That's how you know that what you're reading will end in a "happily ever after" right?

I tilt at windmills. Be warned. I am quixotic, and I turn rivers into dragons. I turn trees into gods. I turn lovers into vampires.

And I kill faeries.

I'm a dreamer. I specialize in fantastic things. There's a story lurking behind every bush, and they spring out at me like muggers of free time, stealing all my good intentions for the day. I've had to start carrying a mace with me to fight them off, because I've got classes and work and cleaning and all the other details that come with being a single mom that have to come first. But the stories are still there. Lurking. Waiting. Watching. Ready to spring at me again.

They will come again.

In the mean time, every day is a new adventure. Every day is a passage in the faerie story that is my life. This year might be a paragraph about how time passes, but you never know when the next ten minutes will be an entire chapter of its own.

You wouldn't want to miss that, would you?

I'm Mary.

I'm a mom.

I'm an amateur author.

I'm a student, a moderator, a reader, a thinker, a dreamer, a sister, a daughter, a cousin, a grandchild, a pet owner, a believer in ghosts, an agnostic, a friend, an ex-girlfriend, never a bride, once a best man, once a maid of honor, a little bit artistic, a whole lot eccentric, a skeptic, a believer, a wisher, a retired poet, a recovered teen, a listless 30-something, a seeker, a finder...

And a Fae Assassin.