Look at this. How do you feel? Good?
Great, now that we’re in a good mood, let’s get offensive. I’ll keep it short and sweet.
You guys are grand.
But this post [edit: this post has now been hidden] got quite a bit of traffic and has sent me into a exhausting salad spinner of crap. Not only with those who were mentioned… But people who have read it and disagree with my choices.
I love my contact page. It is a place where I have had invitations to write for online publications (#blessed #heymamamia), where I feel connected to people from all around the world and where people can tell me what they think – honestly and without filter – mostly due to the ability to stay anonymous.
I’ll cut right to the chase: One classy lady called me a slutbag. Setting aside my loathing of the word ‘slut’, I could delve endlessly into questions about what this actually means (A bag made of sluts? A bag containing sluts? Under-eye circles?) but really, this is the kind of chick that is the root cause of why we cannot have nice things. Can’t say I’ll own that title or even remotely agree with it, but there are certainly worse things on this earth that I could be called.
I don’t think I’ll ever disable the anonymous contact page, simply because I’ve struck up fabulous conversations in the past with those brave enough to use it. Who said pen pals are dead?
I won’t lie, it was refreshing to get a view on the post that wasn’t “ERMERGERD LIL SO FUNNY I WISH I WAS YOU LEL SO LUCKY”. Because although my ego got a fabulous stroking, I felt like some completely missed the point of the post.
Let me reiterate: I felt miserable (pretty much) that entire week.
I get it; maybe I shouldn’t have posted it. But at the same time, I’m pretty proud that I was brutally honest – on and off the internet. Being honest and being a dick is – sadly – not mutually exclusive. I was downright sordid with the details and consequently caused some butthurt.
However, when the moment comes where I think about changing the way I am, or what I want to write, I simply think of the following:
“I am only resolved to act in that manner, which will, in my own opinion, constitute my happiness, without reference to you, or to any person so wholly unconnected with me.” Elizabeth Bennett (Pride and Prejudice, Jane Austen)
But perhaps with less usage of the comma, I say this:
I’m not Nutella. It’s not my job to make everybody happy.