I'm Lindsay Ferrier, a Nashville writer with a passion for family travel, exploring Tennessee, and raising kids without losing my mind in the process. This is where I share my discoveries, along with occasional deep thoughts, pop culture tangents and a sprinkling of snark. Want to get in touch? Use the CONTACT form at the top of the page.
June 29, 2009
Way back in 2005, Alice Bradley stood up to a band of critics at the first BlogHer conference and announced, “Mommy blogging is a radical act!”
At the time, that statement was like a rallying cry, prompting mothers across the blogosphere to get all teary-eyed and raise their fists in virtual solidarity. And if you were around in 2005, either reading mom blogs or writing one of your own, you probably understand why.
In 2005, making money off a mommyblog was a joke. Those in existence were written by women who were in it to keep a record for their family, to find community, or simply because they had something to say, something that wasn’t being said in the mainstream media. I was a new mother at that time and for me, mom blogs were a breath of fresh air.
I was tired of the perception of motherhood I’d been fed by parenting books and baby and child magazines. Those mothers were always perfectly dressed and holding spotless, smiling children. They lived in immaculate houses and never displayed even a hint of sensuality.
In blogs, though, I found a very different portrayal of motherhood. I read stories by moms whose homes were chaotic, who cried sometimes and felt incapable of being good enough for their kids, who struggled to maintain the spark of romance that had brought them together with their husbands in the first place.
My own blog’s header at the time said, “Save me from the plastic people!” And you, the blogosphere, did. Unlike my real-life playgroup “friends” at the time, you didn’t frown and remain silent when I admitted that I didn’t fall in love with my daughter the moment she was born. You understood. And unlike the rest of the world, you didn’t treat me like I was invisible and unimportant as a stay-at-home mom. You listened. And you responded.
So yes. It was radical. We were mothers. Real mothers.
And we were finally talking about it.
By 2007, the advertisers had begun listening. Accordingly, ad networks formed, review blogs were established, and money started coming in. The next year, I wrote a post voicing my concerns that the advertisers were creating an onslaught of new mom bloggers who were simply doing whatever they had to do to get the revenue, drowning out the “radical” voices in the process.
That post led to a panel at last year’s BlogHer, which asked the question, “Is Mommyblogging Still a Radical Act?” I was thrilled to hear from women like Polly Pagenhart and Maria Young, two of the speakers in that panel who made me believe that all was not lost. I went home from BlogHer last year feeling buoyed up by the women out there who continued to be their real, authentic selves on their blogs, despite the winds of change that were blowing them in the opposite direction.
Today, though, that wind has become more like a hurricane.
As blogging goes mainstream, mom bloggers are starting to look and sound more and more like they came straight out of a diaper ad. And frankly, the moms who don’t make motherhood seem like an 18-year-long Hallmark commercial are getting harder and harder to hear amid the babbling about whateveritiswethinktheadvertiserswantustosay.
Think about it. Three years ago, if you wanted to get noticed in the blogosphere, you wrote well. You wrote honestly. You admitted your faults. And we, your readers, reveled in your candor.
Today, if a mom blogger wants online authority, she’s better off establishing herself as a Social Media Maven and all-around Supermom. She’d do well to make sure every hair is in place (courtesy of her stylist), her flab is firmly in check (thanks to EA SPORTS Active), and she has a media kit handy, to send out to potential sponsors.
After all, why would an advertiser want a mother who admits on her blog to smoking the occasional cigarette and hiding in the closet sometimes when her kids won’t stop fighting, when it can now have a mom who only posts pictures of herself smiling and perfectly made up, and who writes posts doling out plucky advice on everything from proper mascara application to what to wear to upcoming blog conferences?
As a blogger and long time reader of mom blogs, this change obviously makes me sad. Because I no longer believe that mommy blogging is a radical act. It is a commercial act. It is an opportunity for income and media attention. And the women who aren’t willing to toe the line are getting left behind.
Back in 2006, Alice Bradley wrote this statement:
We readers and authors of parenting blogs are looking for a representation of authentic experience that we’re not getting elsewhere. We sure as hell aren’t getting it from the parenting magazines. If you want to find out how to make nutritious muffins that look like kitty cats, you can read those. But a parenting magazine will never help you feel less alone, less stupid, less ridiculous. This is the service I think parenting blogs provide-we share our lopsided, slightly hysterical, often exaggerated but more or less authentic experiences. If one blogger writes about, say, her bad behavior at the doctor’s office, then maybe at some point, some freaked-out new mother is going to read that and feel a little better-less stupid, less ridiculous-about her own breakdown at the pediatrician’s.
I’m seeing fewer authentic experiences out there and less incentive than ever before to share them. Clearly, I’m all for making money off of our blogs if we can.
But must we lose our radically real voices in the process?
This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.