Not too long ago I was commenting on how I talk to students about social media, about how much they want to share, not share, communicate, etc. because of the ramifications to education, friendships, and other relationships, not to mention future job prospects. The friend I was talking to said that I post everything, that I don’t really sensor what I post.

Today I posted on Facebook about not getting into the State Fair, then shortly after about my latest round of biopsies coming in benign. I was concerned about posting these (and I did not post them to Twitter). Was it too much? What was I expecting from the posts? Why was I posting them?

I posted the Fair topic because I knew of others who had entered. I wanted them to know I hadn’t made it in. I wasn’t sad so I wasn’t looking for condolences (although the ones that did come in were great — and the friends who enjoy my work made me smile). Maybe I was looking for camaraderie? I wanted them to get in even if I didn’t — but maybe it was that understanding that this was a big deal to enter. I don’t know. I really don’t.

I almost didn’t post anything about the biopsies. After my aunt asked about them (in the fair post), it made me think. I’m linked to a lot of family and long-time friends in Facebook. These are people who have seen me through my bouts with cancer, have been supporting me, encouraging me, and loving me as I have dealt with it. I worried that it seemed like much ado about nothing, but I also know that these are some of the people who care the most about me. I posted so they would know.

I’ve questioned myself (yes, I talk to myself) about how much I post, if I post everything, and if I post too much. When friends drop me because I “post too much,” I question my motives.

I realized, though, that I don’t post a 10th of what actually goes on in my life. Not here, not in Facebook, not in Twitter, not anywhere.

The last three weeks have been an emotional roller coaster, but I haven’t let on about most of that. I’ve kept it to myself, only discussing some of the issues with some people, and only all of the issues with one person — my therapist, because that’s what he’s there for. I really don’t find it necessary to share everything. But I do like sharing some things.

I am choosy about who I share with, and what I do share. I compartmentalize. It keeps me sane.