Sometimes I wonder why I am the way I am. I am the youngest of four, so I'm sure that has something to do with it. My parents are fairly normal, so I'm not sure how I emerged from that household being the oddball that I am.
My classmates weren't sure what to do with me, either. I was shy, but I wasn't a doormat. I was a bully-target, but not for very long. My tongue was a whip with which I lashed out--with often cruel accuracy. Usually bullies found I was not worth the pain I inflicted back. I was a bit tomboyish, preferring to rouge my cheeks with the Oklahoma wind and perfume myself with stories. But I wasn't so boyish as to be accepted amongst the guys. I was awkward, but not so much as to be shoe-horned into the lowest echelon of the social ladder. I was the social equivalency of beige. Not hideous, to be struck down and repainted immediately--but just....there. That's why I never bother with high school reunions. I doubt anybody would really remember me. I didn't have a set group of friends, but kind of meandered from group to group like a drunk on Bourbon Street, not wanting to acknowledge that Mardi Gras is finished.
I believe that social media has really been a game-changer. In a way, it has brought blessed relief for SAHMs like me--trapped in our domesticity until Little Caesars Hot N Readies save the day. We can talk, post amusing things, etc. to friends that live states and even countries away. How awesome is that? I adore having a host of friends at my finger-tips. However, like most things in life, it is a double-edged sword. I have discovered that I am usually just a "number booster." I think you know what I mean. I am the person you add because you are aware of my existence, and you want to bolster your "friend number," so you add me. Here is where you probably want to stop reading and go have a cup of coffee. Because what I am about to say is born of years of annoyance and frustration, to be displayed with an array of sarcasm and snark. Here goes:
1.) I am not a number. I am a person. If you want to add me as a "friend," they you damn well better act like a friend. Don't just troll my wall, making judgments about me, or just ignoring my existence. TALK to me. If you're lazy, just "like" something every now and then.
2.) If you "unfriend me," I will probably find out. If I did something to offend you--inbox me. Don't just drop off the planet one day and make me wonder why you don't want to be my friend anymore. This isn't the 3rd grade.
3.) Don't delete my comment without giving me a heads up as to why. That just humiliates me. See above comment.
4.) I sometimes swear. (See #1). I am not doing it to ruffle your self-religious feathers. I generally let one slip because I am beyond upset. That's usually your cue to take notice.
5.) Don't skip over my autism posts. Autism may mean nothing to you now, but one day it will. One in 50. Just wait until it's your kid, or your nephew, or your grand kid. Show compassion now rather than feeling like an ass later.
6.) If I unfriend you, don't re-friend me simply because you want to keep your high friend number, or because you own a business and want as many potential clients as possible. I will notice that you are continuing to ignore me and will unfriend you again.
7.) I don't care if you don't like welfare and food stamps. I AM ON THEM. Saying, "but not you" doesn't hack it. You ARE OFFENDING ME. There's nothing like having your self-esteem handed to you on a platter by having to receive help, and then have your friends bitch about what a lazy, undeserving free-loader you are. Two words: Piss. Off.
Okay. The descent from the high-horse has begun. Feathers are being smoothed and balm being placed on wounds. I wrote these comments to hopefully give you pause as you mill about on social media. Even though a click seems minimal, or a post or comment behind a screen mild--these things do have an impact.
My classmates weren't sure what to do with me, either. I was shy, but I wasn't a doormat. I was a bully-target, but not for very long. My tongue was a whip with which I lashed out--with often cruel accuracy. Usually bullies found I was not worth the pain I inflicted back. I was a bit tomboyish, preferring to rouge my cheeks with the Oklahoma wind and perfume myself with stories. But I wasn't so boyish as to be accepted amongst the guys. I was awkward, but not so much as to be shoe-horned into the lowest echelon of the social ladder. I was the social equivalency of beige. Not hideous, to be struck down and repainted immediately--but just....there. That's why I never bother with high school reunions. I doubt anybody would really remember me. I didn't have a set group of friends, but kind of meandered from group to group like a drunk on Bourbon Street, not wanting to acknowledge that Mardi Gras is finished.
I believe that social media has really been a game-changer. In a way, it has brought blessed relief for SAHMs like me--trapped in our domesticity until Little Caesars Hot N Readies save the day. We can talk, post amusing things, etc. to friends that live states and even countries away. How awesome is that? I adore having a host of friends at my finger-tips. However, like most things in life, it is a double-edged sword. I have discovered that I am usually just a "number booster." I think you know what I mean. I am the person you add because you are aware of my existence, and you want to bolster your "friend number," so you add me. Here is where you probably want to stop reading and go have a cup of coffee. Because what I am about to say is born of years of annoyance and frustration, to be displayed with an array of sarcasm and snark. Here goes:
1.) I am not a number. I am a person. If you want to add me as a "friend," they you damn well better act like a friend. Don't just troll my wall, making judgments about me, or just ignoring my existence. TALK to me. If you're lazy, just "like" something every now and then.
2.) If you "unfriend me," I will probably find out. If I did something to offend you--inbox me. Don't just drop off the planet one day and make me wonder why you don't want to be my friend anymore. This isn't the 3rd grade.
3.) Don't delete my comment without giving me a heads up as to why. That just humiliates me. See above comment.
4.) I sometimes swear. (See #1). I am not doing it to ruffle your self-religious feathers. I generally let one slip because I am beyond upset. That's usually your cue to take notice.
5.) Don't skip over my autism posts. Autism may mean nothing to you now, but one day it will. One in 50. Just wait until it's your kid, or your nephew, or your grand kid. Show compassion now rather than feeling like an ass later.
6.) If I unfriend you, don't re-friend me simply because you want to keep your high friend number, or because you own a business and want as many potential clients as possible. I will notice that you are continuing to ignore me and will unfriend you again.
7.) I don't care if you don't like welfare and food stamps. I AM ON THEM. Saying, "but not you" doesn't hack it. You ARE OFFENDING ME. There's nothing like having your self-esteem handed to you on a platter by having to receive help, and then have your friends bitch about what a lazy, undeserving free-loader you are. Two words: Piss. Off.
Okay. The descent from the high-horse has begun. Feathers are being smoothed and balm being placed on wounds. I wrote these comments to hopefully give you pause as you mill about on social media. Even though a click seems minimal, or a post or comment behind a screen mild--these things do have an impact.
I am the oldest & the oddball. Just remember we all love you.
ReplyDeleteThat is all I have to say. Besides I go to reunions. I go to see the guys & girls. I get made fun of & do not care. I was always the one with black or white no gray with rules or laws.