Do you ever meet people and think, “Dang, why can’t I be more like that?”? For me it usually happens when I meet warm, caring, nice people. Not just a nice person, but one of those people that lights up a room with their smile when they see you and usually follows it up with a genuine interest in how you’re doing. Someone who you walk away from feeling like they really listened to what you said and left you feeling all warm and happy inside. They may have even thrown in a tight warm hug for emphasis.
This is not me. This will never be me, but it’s always something I feel I lack and find myself chastising myself for not being.
However, tonight I went deeper after experiencing this feeling. Would I still be ‘me’ if my personality shifted to that ideal? The answer I found was “Nope.”
If I were a warm and fuzzy Nicey Nice, I would not have my biting, sarcastic, cynical sense of humor that has gotten me through some Life Shit. Not just Life, but the shitty parts; death, illness, death, broke ass-ness, kids, challenges, marriage, starting over in 4 states in five years.
Not to take anything away from Nicey Nices, but if I didn’t have these sharp edges and spikes, I don’t know that I would have come out of all the muck with the same outlook and perspective. Who knows? If I had somehow experienced a lobotomy and grown up shiny happy people, my life and perspective might be amazing and bubbly. Can you imagine?! All positivity and optimism from moi? What would this nonsense be called? Rainbow Sprinkles? Serenity Sings?
Ugh, seriously thank goodness for dark clouds and muddy puddles, I say.
There is something to be said for the comic relief, right? What is life without shedding some light on the craziness we all experience so we can all have a good laugh at the sheer absurdity of it all?
Can you laugh about your kid’s tantrums over coffee and no makeup with Nancy Nicety? Can you vent about the reality of marriage over margaritas with Martha Effing Stewart? …ok, bad example, she served time. But maybe all that attempted Nicey Nice is what eventually cracked her. It’s not for the weak, apparently.
I know I may not always be inclusive. I may not always be fully listening. I may not give warm hugs and dazzling heart warming smiles, but hopefully I make you laugh at something you thought was unlaughable at least once. That is what I bring to the clique, sarcasm and dark clouds.
…and you better wear pink on Wednesday, bitches.