Validation

The other day my client lamented, “I need validation. I shouldn’t.”

I asked him to sit back a moment and listen.

The baddest people on the planet need validation, I told him. Military people need validation. They get amazing arrays of pins across their chests, medals, awards, bars, patches, salutes, statues, commemorations, and accolades of all kinds. Performers need validation. There are dozens of award shows where performers and all of those people who work in those fields get nominations and awards every single year. Those shows get millions of viewers. Athletes need validation. They get rings and cups and awards and cash bonuses and signs and fanfare and parades and fans and social status. Wrestlers get a gold belt the size of a dinner plate, for goodness sake. People in business need validation. They get bonuses, fancy titles, extra time off, mention in the newsletter, certificates, staff/manager meetings, and all forms of recognition.

From hearts and flowers to cards and gifts, from toasts to roasts. We need our birthdays, cards, LIKE on Facebook, exploding fireworks on gifs, gaming coins for decent game playing, tips for workers, holidays, remembering, hugs, dates, play dates, public call outs on social media, private validations between people. Most online purchasing is rewarded by the sellers, much as we reward the sellers with validation. Who hasn’t asked you for a review of their product, service, or brand?

Humans are a validation-seeking species. Validation lets us know that we are accepted and approved of by our tribe; it lets us know that we are connected in to the life-giving groups that we populate. The genuine offering of kindness, love and approval makes our brains release the happy chemicals that light up our lives.

As we move through the complexities of our lives, expressing ourselves with our very lives, others noticing our actions is the glue that keeps us together as individuals, as dyads, as groups members. Acknowledging our loved ones efforts is considered the highest form of loving them. In fact, the human need for validation is so great that Abraham Maslow accounts for it on the essential hierarchy of needs for human beings for good mental and emotional health.

Interestingly, offering validation is a relationship skill that we seldom hear about, seldom practice, seldom value. But the absence of validation is the main reason many couples enter into therapy. Couples, families, humans seeking intimacy with others often have not learned the basics of validation in relationships and are frozen in their confusion and need. 

So how do I offer validation to others?

Answer: Honestly and often.
Take time regularly to see your partner, spouse, child, friend, coworker. Notice their efforts. Express sincere interest in their activities, emotions, efforts. Let them know that “I see you there.” Let them know that, just as they are in that moment, in all of their glorious vulnerability and imperfections, you love them and find value in them.

Great, now how do I elicit validation from others?
Ah, there is the rub. You cannot do this. Coerced or manipulated validation from others feels...invalidating. Instead, model validating behavior and, then learn to validate yourself.

• Become the very thing that you need.
• Begin to notice others around you.
• Recognize effort.
• Put everything down and listen.
• Give generously of your time.
• Respond to their energy, enthusiasm, passion.
• Ask questions to learn more.
• And do it again tomorrow.

Yes, needing to be validated by others is hard-wired into our brains. At the same time, it’s worthwhile to learn to validate ourselves too. Let’s celebrate that. Let’s get working on self-validating. Then we’ll always have enough.

My client was moved. He sat back and replied, “I’m ready.”

Here's How These 80's Actresses Look Now

It's one of those social media tropes that you will find everywhere. Special click bait. Click here and see what that gorgeous woman from the 80's looks like now. What Time does to a person. It's unkind.

Have you seen even ONE of these pieces telling us just what Time will do to a male hottie? I haven't and I have specifically looked. This goes beyond a feminism thing. It's about humans!

I find these clip bait pieces infuriating. It's the shock value that they are going for and that's the low-hanging fruit of click bait. Who doesn't look older after thirty years? Thirty years are hard on a person's appearance. 

Eyes sag, puff, wrinkle. Skin fades, ages, wrinkles, discolor. Hair loses shine, greys, changes texture, grows in places other than one's head. Bodies gain weight, lose weight, lose their vitality, get out of shape. Clothes stop fitting so sweet, stop looking svelte, droop, get super tight. Voices thicken, crack, weaken, get gravely. These things are normal, perfectly normal.

Photographers cheer when they get a bad shot of a former beauty. As though beautiful people gall we average folk. As though we're happy to see the mighty fall. Our country rewards gaffs, falls on stairs, doughy middles, evidence of child birth, crows feet, nerves, lip sag, or grey hair with shame and derision. And the masses enjoy it. Why?

The gratuitous showcase of the ravages of time must be a huge draw for those who click. 

Every single human being ages. Every single beautiful person ages and loses some sparkle. Is this something to be shocked by? Other cultures worship, literally worship, age. 

I refuse to click on the bait. Do you?

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Grief and Eddie

Tonight I'm grieving Eddie Vedder.
Not because he died, he's still here!
I'm grieving him because I just discovered him!

I wasn't into Grunge in the 90s; I'm not really into it now. But I do remember just ignoring so much of the new music coming out because I was just too busy to pay it any mind. I was in graduate school in the 90s, then getting married, then mother to a newborn. I really didn't have any extra attention to pay. Besides, I was still rocking out to the 70s tunes.  🤣
Not really. I wasn't listening to much music at all. I mean, all I had was the radio and CD player...so when I think of music at that time, all I actually remember playing alot of was a favorite Kenny Loggins CD.

In the past couple of years I've also been exploring different movie genre', book genre', authors, art, all kind of interesting cultural experiences. I feel like the world is a smorgasbord and it's music time.

Anyway, so the other night I was just messing around on youtube listening to a variety of music. Lately I'm enjoying exploring other genres of music that I have never given time to. I guess I'm a bit bored with my own favorites. Though how one can be bored of Kenny and Luther after only thirty years of nonstop listening, I don't know.

So I was messing around and I kept thinking to myself, DANG, my memory stinks. Who is that one band that I keep meaning to give a listen to?  For several days in a row I tried to remember but just could not. Luckily, my son reminded me, it was Pearl Jam. I was listening to our local rock station KSHE a week or so ago when a song came on that had me quickly Shazamming the thing. It was Black by Pearl Jam.

Yeah. That one.
The lyrics, Man!

So, anyway, long story short, I pulled up some Pearl Jam last night and got lost in their songs, and, eventually, in everything by Eddie Vedder. Dude, I love him.

YES, he's hawt.
But he's SO COOL and so interesting and so real. I love his voice and his lyrics and his career. I listened to several songs he sang with other big singers and just...fangirled.

Then I started feeling super sorry for myself for not being mad for the guy for the last, what, thirty years? 🤣  I'm so late to the game!!! So, now, I'll be giving him his due. I plan on listening to everything: concerts, covers, interviews, covers, everything! And, certainly, looking at every possible image of this gorgeous dude. Fergoodnesssake! I didn't know!!!!!

So, if you've been awake these past few decades, I'm jealous. I've been missing so much great stuff...I wonder what else is out there???

Any suggestions? Send me your playlist! But, Girl, make it as amazing as EV!

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My Own Mind

I don't know if you've ever spent any time looking at the masthead on my blog, that part at the top of the blog page with my cheesy pic on the right, next to the quotation by Ralph Waldo Emerson. The quotation reads Nothing is at last sacred but the integrity of your own mind. I chose that quotation in my life and for this blog very deliberately.

Emerson was a 19th century philosopher, writer, lecturer. He wrote and spoke about something called the Transcendentalism movement, a school of philosophy that gained some intellectual popularity in the early- to mid-1800s, probably in response to the anti-intellectualism brought on by various strains of religion. You can read about Transcendentalism in many great places online, so check it out if you are interested in this. Absolutely inherent in the belief system of Transcendentalism is a belief in the goodness of people and of nature. 

Furthermore, these folks believed that society and its institutions, mainly religions, actually impair and undermine the goodness of each individual. If you've ever read Emerson's series of essays called Self-Reliance, that is what he is referring to, the idea that individuals should rely upon their own thoughts, instincts, and opinions rather than conform to those of other institutions. Emerson would say that individuals are best when they are independent, that, were we, as individuals, to rely upon our own minds rather than those of past authors/philosophers/lecturers, we individuals would create our own independent thought and be better people, thus, self reliance.

Don't blindly follow the thoughts and beliefs of others, true independence comes from self-reliance, and nothing can bring you peace except for yourself. That's what Emerson was saying.

SO, I love the basis of Transcendentalism, though, naturally, I don't follow anyone or any doctrine...kind of like what Transcendantalism says to do.  LOL The quotation at the top of this page reflects exactly how I feel about the necessity for questioning, for continued learning, and for absolute respect for the process of exploration and of the unknown. 

The quote is an incitement, a catalyst, an inducement to myself and to all of those who read this blog to cultivate a life of free thought, of questioning, and of integrity.

Good night, Folks.

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I'm Sensitive

You're too sensitive.
If I've heard it once, I've heard it, literally, a thousand times. Someone notices that my feelings have been hurt by something they've said or done so they shake their head, little frown, and say Aw, tip of the head, you're so sensitive.

I have spent a good deal of my life apologizing for being sensitive. I've had people minimize their own rudeness/unkindness by simply thinking it is my sensitivity that is the problem and not their own rudeness or their boorishness or their bull-in-a-china-shop-...ness.

This has been an ongoing and constant issue for me.

So I've been quite ashamed of that part of me for years. But no more and never again.

The truth is, I am. I'm sensitive.

It's a huge part of who I am.

I own it and I'm grateful to it because it makes me the kind of person that I am proud to be. So I don't just accept that part of me, I celebrate it.

If this describes you too, take heart.

* I know I post about this issue alot...it's a thing for me...

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I'm Offended

I'm Real. I'm Weird.

Sarcasm, Acerbic Venom

Name for It: Misogyny

Just a thing on my mind.
It's been on my mind for years.

When I was young, I got pregnant. Right?
I had so much pain and judgement from that. People who labeled me whore.

But it was like it happened to me alone. I carried the stigma. I lived with the so-called disgrace. I was humiliated in a million different ways, and for years. In my family, I was smeared and stigmatized...I became the pariah. It was actually weird because I clearly wasn't the worst kid in the world, but being sexually active...oh geez, we can't have that! I wasn't even the only kid in the family (sibs, cousins, others, etc) who was sexually active. I mean, really, the stories I knew about other people... I was treated like tramp even though I was in a long-term relationship with the guy. Sheesh.

Anyway, both during and after my pregnancy I was person who was labeled; I was the besmirched name; * I was the ne'er-do-well. 

Guess who didn't lose either face or reputation.
My boyfriend.

Oh sure, he got some crap up front. Sure, his mother gave him the omnipresent Catholic guilt, but over all he was fine. The long run? He went on with his life. No problems with work. No problems with friends. No lingering problems with his family. He didn't even seem to have any depression, as I did for years. And no names. He was called no names. Not a single one.

Why is that?
No, really?
Why is it that the mother gets to be, as his mother called me, The Whore of Babylon? Why was he allowed to just skip away? No, I care enough for him that I truly didn't want him to have this same problem, but why is it this way? I carried that letter A for many years, many, many years, while he just walked away unscathed**. 

I don't know, just an old, never before voiced, rant.

In the meantime, the baby?
She was adopted as a newborn.
She's now 41 years old, married, mother of two. If she EVER comes here and sees this picture, she'll be angry. And rightly so. 
But here she is, my daughter and her beautiful family.   --------------------------->


* ME! I mean, do you know me? Geeeesh.
** Actually there is a name for this, it's misogyny, gender inequality, sexism.

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I Know Who I Am

I'm all for the government staying out of my damn life, if it can also make sure that people in need have the support that they need to survive. I'm terribly extroverted, unless I'm not. I'm deliciously introverted, unless I'm not. I've got get out of the house; when I'm not snuggled up on the couch. I'm extremely friendly, unless I'm just keeping to myself that day. I'm feet on the floor, until those days that the existential thoughts, again, swirl my mind. And I'm connected to some exceptionally people, as well as being completely in my own bubble on some days. I feel tranquil, yet driven.

I'm all of these things.
And do you know why?
Because I'm finally me. Me, in all of my varying degrees of things.

For many years I'd thought that I'd really known myself...turns out, I had no idea! But I can say that I'm finally beginning to know me. How weird is that? Turning fifty was a real turning point in my life. It was such a freeing thing, such an empowering thing. I've often heard older women talk about feeling empowered in their fifties, but I simply could not conceive of such a thing, until now.

How could I know that the freedom of reinvention would become a real presence in my life, that the deep love that I feel for people in my life would deepen, widen, develop quiet violence? Rather then sliding down that slippery slope, I feel like the world is opening to me. Rather than paddling and paddling to stay in place, doors open to me and people welcome me in as legit, no need to prove myself anymore. I own literally every single thing that I'll ever need and have no need to accumulate any more stuff. I am both invisible and powerful beyond belief out in the world.

Yes, I am that person who talks to you in the grocery aisle. I'll drive up, roll down my car window and have a chat with you on the roadside. I'll stop and give you the time you need. I'll greet the mailman at the box. I'll drop everything to spend time with you, with your kids, with your kids' friends. I wear comfortable clothing, hair up in a do, eating healthy, wearing sneakers and a cozy, warm sweatshirt with dangling earrings. I'm fitting into the smaller sizes and I often choose to dress up just for fun. I think fondly of high school rather than thinking of it as a cesspool of neurosis. I look at my slightly-greying husband and fondly think He's getting to be a grumpy bugger. I can identify with several different generations and I feel like I fit in comfortably with almost everyone. But mostly, I don't give a FUCK what anybody else thinks.
 
Being in my fifties is wonderful and freeing and expanding and, as soon as this Advil kicks in, I'm going to kick my heals up and party like it's 1999!

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Pornography

Here's another grey area for you.

Actually, maybe it's not so grey after all...

When I was growing up, my dad has pornography in the house. On the walls. In the closets. Sitting out. In the john, of course.

This was a house with one young boy and three young girls. This was a house where Mom left (GEE, Wonder why? ) and the kids were raised by this man. This man who thought it was OK to have pictures of nude women hanging around, who thought it was OK to have pornography (not the classy kind) just sitting around, accessible to these young minds.

Yep. I looked at it.
Yep. I was affected by it.

This morning I was thinking about what I thought about it all of those years ago and how I was affected by it. How I am, in fact, still affected by it. Let's start with a thing that happened when I was in the second grade.

I was in my second grade class, talking to some boys. They mentioned naked women and I said, "I can show you lots of naked women!" So we organized a trip to walk over to my house (literally 100 steps from the classroom door) so that these boys could see the naked pictures. I remember it being at least two boys (Tom an Michael), but I know that there was at least one other boy. We walked over to my house and into the garage. I turned on the lights/ the boys eyes lit up! The walls were covered with pictures. I felt kind of proud, kind of knowing, kind of generous. That is, until Mom came out and scooted us out of the garage. Until that moment I had no idea that it was a shameful thing or that there was something untoward about having naked pictures on the wall. To me, that was normal.

When I first became curious about the books and magazines around the house, I guess I was pretty young, in elementary school. Somewhere I ran across this old black and white dirty magazine of sorts. While most of Dad's pornography was of young women, this thing had an image of a naked dude standing there with a huge penis. As a kid I remember looking at that picture and feeling horrified at that hideous thing. I kept that picture hidden for months just so I could look at it with disgust.

As I got older, the message was always something like "Women are either virgins or whores." So any sexual activity, regardless of how freaking normal that is, was viewed as being a whore, being sinful, being unlovable. In fact, as soon as my sex life became common knowledge in the family (thanks to my brother reading my diary when I was 16 or 17...), my dad moved about fifty miles from me emotionally. From that moment forward, he never acted loving toward me again, and he died almost forty years later...

Imagine that weird dichotomy. Pornography all over the place, but we're not supposed to be sexual or to have sexual experiences. I was effed up about that one for decades...
What's normal? What's real? What's healthy?
All of these issues have reared their ugly heads because of the normalcy of pornography in my life.

Anyway, more stuff in my teens...somehow my boyfriends were from very conservative families, resulting in mothers hating me. Whore.
Yep.

And the pornography?
Somehow it gave me a weird, fucked up vision of women, of femininity, of sexuality. Using and enjoying pornography doesn't bother me. Use it if you like. Be in it, if you choose to. Enjoy it. Just use your integrity...your principles.

And, forgoodnessake, keep it off of your walls!

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ME: Across the Years

I've been scrolling through a few old pics tonight and found some that I absolutely have to share. These pics are all from different times in my life, times that bring back such love and warmth into my heart...
Interested in seeing them? I thought I'd just share them here because I haven't been writing here much lately from being so dang busy and these pics are so very special to me, thought I'd write a post with a real bang.  LOL


I decided to stick with pictures this time that I actually appear in simply because I'm feeling a bit reminiscent this evening and it's been making me feel incredibly happy, and isn't that nice?

This first one is a Polaroid pic (of course) that my sister took while I was taking my five month old daughter Elizabeth to meet my dearest great aunt, and Elizabeth's namesake, Aunt Elizabeth Becker. When I look at this picture I immediately get tears in my eyes. Aunt Elizabeth was super special to me. In this picture she was about 100 years old, living at home with her dear son taking care of her. Although this shot didn't catch Aunt Elizabeth smiling, she was usually in such high spirits and incredibly happy whenever family would visit. How much I wish I could visit her just once more...

I visited her at least once a week, more if I was able, and Aunt Elizabeth always loved and kissed on Elizabeth. Sitting here looking at this picture at this very moment...I'm choked up. See the smile on my face? That's because I always felt like I was presenting Aunt Elizabeth my dear baby girl as a gift to her somehow... At this point in life I was working part time, Elizabeth in daycare, still nursing her, and yearning for her so much during the day. I will always remember how loved I felt when Jerry suggested I stay home with her...how much I felt he understood my need to be there with her...

Yeah, this pictures brings me great joy.

This next shot was taking in 1980 when I was a Junior in high school. I remember this exact moment for some reason. Dad had a decent camera back in those days, an Olympus OM10, and he took lots of pics of my sisters and brother and I. He would take those pics to work, to every event he went to, shuffle through them, show us off to everyone. Yeah, Dad always had the camera and a stack of pictures with him all of the time...I remember this particular moment of sitting on that hideous chair in the summer time, feeling happy and in love with my boyfriend. LOL

Dad was teasing me and my sister was mad at me for wearing her shirt. At this point in time I was about, what 16-17 years old, feeling pretty optimistic, generally happy. When I see myself there, I want to tell that girl "Hang on, you're gonna make it!"

This last one was taken in 2017 when my dearest Elizabeth was graduating from community college. She and I were out running around taking pictures of her in her cap and gown...can you see how freaking BLUE her eyes are in this pic? If you've never noticed that before, for some reason this pic comes close to really showing how amazing her eyes are.

I remember this moment specifically because she was SO freaking happy and so in love with me in this moment.  lol We were in a gorgeous garden building here in St. Louis called The Jewel Box all by ourselves, just shooting pic after pic of Elizabeth in her cap and town...feeling so happy, accomplished, pretty ecstatic, actually. lol
I remember this moment because my heart was so full of love and pride for her...


I love pictures. I have often thought that, were my house to burn to the ground, my pictures are the only thing I would miss. I actually miss the days we would take the film, mail it away or drop it off for developing, waiting anywhere from 5-15 day to get them back, pay our $3 per roll, then have a handful of pictures to shuffle through...I loved getting my film developed. Now every single pic I've taken in the past decade or more are stored digitally somewhere and, now that I think of it, that's kind of sad.

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Mid-August Gratitude List

I've been having a non-relaxing summer as I really dig into my new job and to all of the learning that I'm doing to get up to speed. 

I have to admit that I'm not the strongest person, I'm not that person who has unlimited back bone, and I'm not that person who has large reserves of grit. No, I must admit that I can only take so much challenge before having to stop and take a rest. 

I'm at that spot.
This week I've had a day or two of mental exhaustion from actually doing what I love to do. Which brings me to the part where I have to lay out some things for which I am extremely grateful.

Beginning with a HUGE #1: My Husband.
I was having a very rough day, lots of feels, lots of exhaustion the other day. Lots of self doubt. And there he was. Fresh and ready to support me with every bit of energy and every bit of time I needed.
When I asked him if he would support me if I wanted to quit work, without a second's pause, he looked me deep in the eyes and replied YES.
I don't want to quit and I have no plans to quit, but his total and complete support of me was a balm to my heart and mind.
I'll never forget that moment.

#2 - My kids.
I know I talk about them nonstop, but the truth is, they are my very heart. With my struggles and challenges, they are both there, solid, and supportive. No mom to cook, clean, hug on a daily basis and these two have stepped up and I SO appreciate it.
I needed to know that they could do that.

#3 - Melatonin.
I have a lifelong issue with sleeping at night.
I don't do it, sleep at night, it's not a thing I do.
And, you know, if you have a job in the day time, it's better to sleep at night. (I'm pretty sure that this issue is a huge part of my difficulties this month.) Melatonin isn't fixing anything in the long run, but it's taking a small bit of the pressure off of me and helping me to function on a daily basis.

#4 - My Heart and Mind
This job uses every single bit of me on most days. The good thing is that I have a good heart and a good mind and they serve me well. I've learned so much and I'm getting so much of the information organized in my head. I enjoy this job and I'm glad I have the chance to have it. And my heart and my mind? I'm grateful for them.
They're rare and fine, and I know it.

So, Thank you, Life.
Thank you for the beautiful people.

What are you thankful for?

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Jennifer vs. Jennifer

Controversy is my middle name and I've got a huge one for you.
I have an opinion here and, long in coming, I'm finally coming OUT.

If you've ever seen Dreamgirls, you know that Effie has some SONGS to SANG. And she does sang 'em. Oh yes.

In Dreamgirls, the story goes like this: three female SANGers come together to form a trio called the Dreamettes. When a Big Time Manager spots the Dreamettes at a talent show, he offers them the opportunity back up to a huge star on the local stage. Problem is, one of the trio makes a bigger splash than the others, forcing changes within the trio. The cost of fame is high and friendships within the trio suffer...

If you get the chance to see it, do. It's been remade several times with huge talents and huge voices.

The problem is, lovers of theater have to do this thing to prove that they are Real Fans. They have to pay homage, betray their troth, keep allegiance to one performance over the other. This is something I feel no need to do because I love performances of all kinds. For example, I don't feel the need to choose one Les Mis or one Phantom over any other. They are all wonderful and have their own pros and cons. But so many lovers of these musicals will stridently, vehemently prefer one performance or performer over others. Probably because their personal original is the best...

And that's fine for them.

Anyway, for me, this is not the case with the blockbuster, kicking ass song And I am Telling You in Dreamgirls. There IS a better performance between Jennifer Holliday's performance and Jennifer Hudson's performance. 

Bar none, whichever version I'm listening to at any given moment, THAT is the better version...hands down. 

OR THIS.

Your Opinion?

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36 Questions that make People Fall in Love

I was watching/listening to random videos on Youtube the other night while doing some online work when I ran across a channel called Jubilee that puts out some fun and compelling content. Content mostly to do with what happens when you put people together and see what happens. I was enjoying a series that they put out called Tea for Two where they would bring together two random strangers* and have those strangers answer some questions to challenge their ways of thinking or just their intersectionality of life.

In Tea for Two videos, the content creators took the ideas from a New York Times feature article called The 36 Questions that Lead to Love and wondered if, indeed, these 36 questions could lead to love with random strangers. The NYT article is hidden behind their pay/account wall, but other websites talk about it. You can find lots of links if you look for them.

ANYWAY, tonight my ultra logical/left brained husband agreed to go through the questions with me for fun. FYI, that's how a left-brain shows you love. They tell you yes to silly things.

Each question showed more and more how opposite we are, how we are probably incompatible, how much we know one another, how meaningless these quizzes are, and how ridiculous such a claim is, that 36 questions make people fall in love. What does do it though, what makes people fall in love, is intimacy, vulnerability, trust, authenticity, effort, and fun. 

At the end of the questions, the last one asks the participants to gaze into one another eyes for four minutes without talking. And my silly, logical, DEAR husband looked into my eyes for four minutes.

Yeah, we were in love at the end of the questions.
Weird.

* I have no idea how they chose the random strangers.

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I'm Offended

On the social media sites, nearly everybody loves that moment when someone pipes up and says
That Offends Me!,
because now we all get to all gleefully call that person BUTTHURT or some other expletive. 

We all now get to laugh at the brave person who said NO MORE. 

For nearly all of history the quiet, the nice, the introverted, the timid, the trampled on, the sensitive, the wounded, the abused, the neglected, the disenfranchised, people have silently accepted and allowed all words to pass them by...no confrontations.

No confrontations, no rebuttal, no contradictions, no self-defense, no assertively saying NO, no audacity, no guts, no challenge, no friction. No comment. And those who seem to not notice their abusive ways could safely and smugly ignore the wounded human being who became collateral damage to the wit, the sarcasm, the venting, the anger, the aggression, the narcissism, the self-aggrandized bloviating.


But something is happening and I, for one, am DELIGHTED.
For it is happening to me as well.
The silent have begun to stand up for themselves, for their sensitivities, for their rights. This silent underbelly has begun to stand up and say NO, that is inappropriate and you have injured me or others with that statement. And I'm going to take it anymore.

This is NOT the same as saying Hey I disagree with you, nor is it Your opinion is different from mine nor is it I need you to think the same way that I do, though that is the accusation leveled at the assertions belatedly- and bravely-spoken, accusations made by the person who is unwilling or unable to self-reflect.


Allow me to let a few memes speak for themselves:

Now allow me to speak for myself:

I miss the good old days when I could actually have an opinion without offending someone.
GUESS WHAT: you DID offend someone. They simply kept it to themselves and took the hit. 
You never noticed.
You get to have any opinion you want. But you now are being called on the carpet for your boorishness. Rather than learning from the brave person who stood up to your brashness, you have decided to deprecate and belittle the speaker, to ignore their brave message, and to feel offended yourself.
IRONIC. And manipulative.

What you actually miss, is the days when you could spew your anger, your disdain, your negativity without anybody having the nerve to tell you that you are being rude and hurtful...a world without consequence and culpability.

It's called a joke. We used to tell them before people became offended by everything.
 GUESS WHAT: some so-called jokes are very thinly-veiled criticism or verbal abuse hidden as humor. This isn't funny, nor are we buying it anymore. This "take down" culture has gotten out of hand and has created an entire generation of people who actually think that sarcasm suggests some kind of intelligence.

Your racist, genderist, ableist, abusive "jokes" are being called out for what they actually are: simple-minded ignorance from someone who believes that they are clever. I see, again, that you are missing this opportunity to become woke. It's very difficult confronting someone with little to no self-awareness. And, from the number of times I see you posting memes such as this, I see that you are missing the point. What you miss is the days when you weren't called out on your acerbity.

I'm not being rude, I'm just saying what everyone else is thinking.
GUESS WHAT: you are being rude. Incredible that this has to be explained to you. Again, and this is becoming tiresome for me as well, you are missing this chance to learn appropriateness, courtesy, kindness, consideration, gentleness, respect, manners, decorum, honor, civility, class, politeness, etiquette, moderation, humanity, decency, forbearance, affability, stop me when you get it...

Before you get all butthurt and offended, ask yourself why it bothers you so much. Maybe the problem is you, not it. Only the weak are constantly offended by things that have nothing to do with them.
GUESS WHAT: This sounds exactly like  a narcissist telling me how wrong I am to be offended by rudeness, ridicule or sarcasm. Even in the meme itself is an attack.

Maybe you are weak: OR, maybe I'm strong and you aren't used to it.
Well get used to it, because we're going to keep getting stronger, wiser, braver!

If I say that what you are saying is offensive, you don't get to say that I'm wrong about your words being offensive. That is totally my call to make. You can call me butt hurt, but, again, that is simply name-calling, no better than a child, and missing the chance to freaking LISTEN and improve our relationship or improve your argument. OR, you can minimize my claims, ignore me, consider it my problem, and never ever learn to be a better person.

Welcome to the era of over-sensitive, easily offended whiners.
GUESS WHAT: Welcome to the era of those of us who have had it and are saying NO MORE. Welcome to the era of people expecting you to face the consequences of your words and actions. Welcome to the era of people refusing to silently accepting your crass, rude abuse sitting down. Welcome to the era of learning clear and healthy communication. Welcome to the era of being empowered to no longer accept toxicity.

Standing up and telling you that your words are offensive is not whiny, it's strong and it's bad ass AF.
.
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Being constantly offended doesn't mean you're right. It just means you're too narcissistic to tolerate opinions different than yours.
GUESS WHAT: "Being constantly offended" probably means that I'm living with a toxic, obtuse narcissist. Feel free to use the word narcissist, but do so with the knowledge of what it means...and you're using it incorrectly here. If someone is suggesting to you that they are constantly offended when they are around you I honestly think it's time you take an honest look at your behavior. Getting angry that I'm angry with you shows a clear lack of self-awareness as well as an unlikely opportunity to learn to take a moment and think about the people around you, rather than yourself, first.

Take the chance to learn how to be assertive rather than aggressive. Learn some self-awareness. You do these smalls bit of self-improvement and no one will, ever again, tell you that you've offended them.


More and more people are learning to no longer tolerate negativity and toxicity in their lives and, sometimes, this means that they are standing up to and calling out the people who criticize, insult, and put them down in condescending manners.

And that takes courage!
It takes practice!
It takes an amazing quantity of self-awareness!
It takes utter maturity to respond to abuse with assertiveness.

SO, when you see the memes about how ridiculous I am for being BUTT HURT, KNOW that I am looking back at you and wondering when you are ever  going to get it...

...because I know the truth.
Some of us are learning to stand up for ourselves and others and some of us are continuing to ignore those around them. They won't change, but WE WILL.

SERIOUSLY
What do you think?

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