Two years ago I started making random confessions to the world. Blogging is like that. It brings out all sorts of personal things you would normally only tell a best friend. Suddenly you are perfectly comfortable sharing things like the fact that you have pulled dirty socks out of the laundry for your son to wear to school. Disclaimer: I did smell them first, though, I promise. They weren’t that bad.

At the time you are typing the aforementioned sensitive information into your laptop (thinking of it as a sort of therapeutic exercise) it seems like you are just writing for yourself. No harm done. But then you look at the stats from the day and realize about┬áthousands of┬ápeople you don’t know and everyone googling “stinky feet” forever more now know the embarrassing truth about your laundry and child rearing failures. They know you are (gasp), REAL.

I have also revealed over the past few years that I suffer from a disease.

“Hi. My name is Melissa and I am recovering from magazine cover-itis.”

—Read more from my article over at (in)courage