Been doing a lot of explaining lately to a new guy who has yet to read my blog but wants to understand how it’s impacted my life. I want to write about him, how I feel, what we do together, etc. but it’s probably a bad idea and quite honestly, I think any description of him whatsoever would give away who he is. My readers have a way of finding thing things out (as they did when they deciphered the real identities of Aidan, Sam, and this guy, among others).

So here’s an unpublished entry from the archives, written over a year ago right as the weirdness in my life started feeling normal :

“Yes, it’s kind of weird that people I don’t know read my blog. But what’s worse is that people I do know read my blog. Which wouldn’t be an issue if said people weren’t co-habitating with me. But they are, in addition to working, studying, and partying with me as well.

Yesterday, WHRB 95.3 interviewed me for a story on campus blogs. The producer asked, ‘Has the blog impacted your life in any negative ways?’ I wasn’t about to go on a tirade, but there are so many things that have changed because of this website. For example, I feel like my reputation precedes me in half the social situations I’m in. One of the girls in the adjoining suite was linked to my website over the summer. She didn’t realize she was sharing a bathroom with me until a few weeks into the term when she finally put two and two together. I have friends who inform me all the time that they have acquaintances who are readers themselves. Multiple people have told me that they overheard Yalies talking about my website during Harvard-Yale weekend. And all the time, I meet new people only to hear them say, ‘I feel like I already know you!’ How am I supposed to form new relationships if this is the sort of reception I get at the onset?

When I first started this website, the primary question I faced was what degree of anonymity I was comfortable with, but obviously I didn’t realize how big a deal this would become. Despite the subject matter, I determined initially that I really didn’t care if my friends and acquaintances knew about this — as long as Sex and the Ivy wouldn’t show up under my real name if a potential employer Googled me. And then a few articles, word-of-mouth, and a combination of factors led to me thinking ‘fuck it’ and embracing the inevitable. I outed myself because if I didn’t, someone else would.

If I could go back in time now, I’d stay completely anonymous and keep my identity very guarded. It’s not that I’m ashamed of anything I’m revealing (obviously, I’m not); it’s that this public attention has impacted what I can or cannot write and that’s unfortunate. What I really miss nowadays is blogging as confession, something I’ve been doing since 15 but have recently been unable to continue. Beyond explicit sex and eating disorders, there are many parts of life that can’t be expressed for all to see. I can’t say, ‘I have a thing for so-and-so’ or ‘I can’t stand this certain person’ or ‘My roommate is really getting on my nerves.’ I can’t really be open when it comes to my romantic relationships, the problems I have in friendships, or even my feelings about organizations I’m involved in. This blog is a day-by-day saga for readers but for me, this is life in real-time and even if I can be open to the world about who I am, I can’t be open to all the individuals in my life about how I feel for them.”

— “Caution” December 1, 2006

I do not use real names on this blog for the men I’m involved with, not even those who have wronged me. (My friends are a different story, but the events concerning them are far less controversial.) Even when someone cheats or lies or manipulates, I avoid outing them and instead use generic first names and leave out identifying information like their job, education, age, or location. Instead, I bite my tongue, am vague about the details of how we became acquainted, swallow the words long before they ever make it to text, and shield these men as much as I shield those I love. However deserving they may be of the scrutiny, they don’t receive it … at least not from my readers, who at 1,000+ a day, could comprise quite the cyber lynch mob. If Gawker’s premise is that everyone is an asshole and should be called out for it, then mine thus far is that even assholes are entitled to their privacy.

But I’m not so sure I believe that any longer.

Lena Chen: do you think it’d be really bitchy for me to post the real name of a guy who tried to hook up with me even though he knew i was friends with his girlfriend? there are a number of people i could Google bomb this way
Scott: you’re in a unique position to dole out justice as you see fit
Lena Chen: yeah, i can play god
Scott: not quite god but as close as a college student can get
Lena Chen: i haven’t really exercised the option
Scott: are you planning to use his full name, or just his first name?
Lena Chen: i COULD use his full name, post a mugshot, do the whole vindictive thing, but i don’t think i will. people are just shitty sometimes. has he learned his lesson? probably not, but i think he’ll get his, and i don’t think i need to help out. although if i ever end my blog, it might be with a list of every douchebag i’ve ever encountered during college, their photos, and details about their jobs/lives.
Scott: that’s kinda harsh
Lena Chen: haha, maybe. they would all deserve it. here’s the thing. i’ve learned that human nature is pretty selfish and lends itself to shitty behavior, but most people are remorseful about it. the people who aren’t deserve to be called out.
Scott: i’m increasingly relieved that you have not deemed me a douchebag

For no reason beyond my greater visibility relative to most people, I have the ability to judge who deserves or doesn’t deserve to be ratted out and thrown to the cyber wolves. But I’m not God, and jokes about an explosive SATI ending aside, I am quite frankly very uncomfortable with the idea of being a vigilante, taking matters into my own hands, and sullying people’s names. So what if a David (and yes, this is a real name) tried to fuck me behind his girlfriend’s back even though she was my friend? Does that mean he should have his full name attached to that incident so that every person who Googles him finds out? Who am I to judge him? And perhaps most importantly, does his lack of remorse make him any more or less deserving?

You see, I don’t know who deserves it or not. Riley was someone who deceived me about having a girlfriend (who was another friend of mine) and yet I would never name him. I don’t think he deserves it, because he’s a good guy who fucked up in a big way and gave himself enough hell about it that he doesn’t need someone to force remorse down his throat. But if he didn’t feel so bad, should I have called him out publicly? Do I have the right to post people’s mistakes before a public audience if I was harmed in the process of their fuck-up and they didn’t say “sorry” in a way I deemed genuine enough?

My most recent freelance assignment is a column about being the “other girl”. It is a 700-word examination of the past year’s experience in attracting taken guys over and over and over and over … again. (Seven at last count). And when it comes to my professional writing, I like to name names. This is problematic, because despite the astonishing number of girlfriends who have already found out, there are plenty who are still clueless about their guys’ indiscretions. Given the context I offer in this piece, it wouldn’t be terribly difficult for a girl to recognize her boyfriend in my column. Does that mean I should withhold real names, or is that not my responsibility?  Should these guys have known better?  Or do I owe them the courtesy of keeping their moral lapses behind closed doors?

I don’t know. I really have no idea. For every David, there is a “Riley”, and I’m not sure if God himself could say just whether one deserved any more than the other to err in private.

While staying in New Haven Friday night, I slept over in the common room of Morse College, which is Mather’s sister house at Yale. I’m not affiliated with Mather House anymore, but my best friend and blockmate Jason is. He was very, very drunk and I put him to bed there. After a semi-sleepless, freezing night sleeping on a bench behind an arcade game, I woke up to a conversation between (who I assume to be) Matherites in the common room. A male voice made mention of “Lena Chen’s STI clinic.” In my groggy state, I figured I could be dreaming, being paranoid, etc. but Jason heard the same comment.

I know people say and think terrible things about me. That’s not okay, but I’ve dealt with that reality and I’ve come to terms with it as much as an oft-criticized person realistically can. Still, it’s instances when I’m witness to said terrible things that I get riled up and am reminded of all the reasons why I’ve done so much running away from Harvard over the past year (transferring to Currier, frequent weekend trips to New York, etc.) I mean, I was sleeping in the common room assigned to people from my former House. How is that supposed to make me feel about Mather kids or my supposed peers or even Harvard? It’s stuff like this that makes me think for every time I bear witness to mudslinging, how much slung mud has gone unseen or unheard of?

I didn’t say anything to the guy or the others in the conversation, because I like to give people (especially my peers) the benefit of the doubt and he’s probably not a bad person because let’s face it, most of us make facetious comments about the shit show that is Britney Spears. Still, I’m not a high-profile celebrity mom gone bonkers and I assume it would’ve been pretty mortifying for him to be confronted by me in front of his friends. Almost as mortifying as say, waking up to someone talking about his supposed STIs. So for future reference, if you’re going to talk shit about me, you should probably make sure I’m not sleeping five feet away from you because guess what? You ruined my day about five seconds after I woke up. If anyone feels like apologizing to me about this, look up my email address.

So, this anecdote was fresh on my mind when I came across MIT senior Ben Pope’s insightful post on his blog about judging people based on their online profiles and identities. (Confession: I found his post because it mentions my blog and I subscribe to Google alerts for “Lena Chen”):

“The temptation, I think, is to form opinions about people from their many posts and profiles. To like or dislike, respect or discount a person based upon the information they have posted is tempting. Everyday we judge each other by our the cover of our facebook. At the same time, though, it is easy to forget that even as the internet provides vehicles for faster and more detailed updates, the time lag is still high and bandwidth low. Profiles and posts often can’t begin to approach telling of the whole story, no matter what we may think.”

I think Ben pretty much hits the nail on the head. We’re all guilty of judging people we see on television or read about in the tabloids, but the Internet makes it possible to celebritize everyone (and no, that’s not a real word). Social networking sites and blogs allow us to familiarize ourselves with people we don’t actually know, and it’s easy to forget that until you interact with someone in person, you can’t really get the full picture. The Internet and my blog let me first become acquainted with plenty of friends, but meeting them added an entirely different dimension to my understanding of who they were beyond the computer screen. I’m sure there are people who feel the same way about me too. Anyone else have stories about interesting online-to-offline relationships?

The subject is a highly relevant one considering my recent obsession with Twitter, the micro-blogging phenomenon that I’ve replaced Facebook status updates with. I’m slightly conflicted about who I should add (or “follow”). Like my blogroll, I initially decided to only stick to people I knew in real life and have gradually included those who write blogs I subscribe to. From what I can tell, it seems like most people follow the people who follow them, but I actually try to read all the tweets and would probably never get work done if I did that. Even if I eventually add my followers, I’m definitely being less indiscriminate than with Facebook, but then again, I don’t have to deal with 1,079 status updates on the latter (yes, that’s my number of current Facebook friends).

Related note, I have over 100 pending friend requests on Facebook, which is slightly ridiculous, and I’m tired of it. I don’t automatically approve Facebook friend requests, but it’s becoming a huge pain to ask every single person who adds me how I know them. If we have no friends in common, I assume they found me from Sex and the Ivy, but there have definitely been some instances in which the requests come from people I met randomly/a long time ago/while drunk/etc. and I just totally spaced out on the meeting. This is why everyone should include cutesy introductions along with the request. The “add a personal message” option is there for a reason! Anyway, I’ve decided that my Facebook — along with everything else about me online — is not terribly private, so I’m just going to start blind-approving everyone rather than messaging every unfamiliar person about how I met them. But nonetheless, it’d be really nice to get an actual note from people who add me.