1. Stop Telling Me To "Be Positive."
This is the worst offender, no doubt, and I think there's two reasons. One is because uh, I'm not positive. But two is because being positive is the cultural norm and everyone's "goal." Society preaches that if you're positive, good things will happen. Books are written about the magnetism of positivity. I call bullshit because all around me I see people with shitty situations struggling so hard to be positive and not let any negative thoughts seep in that they pretty much are forcing a heart attack on themselves. My life has never been better and more enriching, I've never felt more honest and whole than when I embraced the negativity and accepted it as who I am and something not inherently bad just within itself. Things suck, people suck, life sucks, and that's OKAY! Some people are naturally positive, but even those people get chastised by the other, less positive people who say "oh come on your life can't be that perfect." (Aka every blogger ever.) So wait, is it supposed to be perfect or isn't it?
The point is, if life were a game or a mathematical problem, it's one that can be solved in many different ways. Not just one. Being positive is not 'the answer' to everyone's problems and so everyone kindly shut the hell up with your positive radiance. Negative people don't want to hear it.
2. Stop telling me to love my beautiful, capable body.Bodies are amazing and fantastic. And in this Tumblrite age, you're basically a misogynistic woman hater if you don't love your own body. Yes, media is bad. Yes photoshop is bad. Yes promoting people to starve themselves and whatnot is bad. This is a given and I shouldn't even have to explain that I don't agree with it, but I will anyway. But let me tell you something. Bodies--human bodies especially--are gross and weird. They have floppy parts, hilarious parts, parts that should have hair and don't, parts that DO have hair and it's ugly and weird, and we haven't even going into bodily FUNCTIONS which are nasty all on their own.
Maybe some people like poop and pee and snot and blood, but I haven't met any of those people. And bodies do all those things. (sidenote, I do like farts, because they're hilarious. But they're not beautiful or sexy.) My body swells up and retains water once a month and I feel like the Michelin Man. I get pus-filled holes in my face that I have to smash with my hands just to have the goo come out. Bodies are GROSS, okay? Sometimes I do feel beautiful, sometimes I feel like a real goddess. And then other times I feel like maybe the best thing would just be to dig a hole and fall in it and stay there until my uterus decides the expelling period (no pun intended) is over. The blog posts with pictures of armpit hair and bloody vaginas are so not needed. So not needed. You can accept that your body is a wonder of science, and accept that science is gross and not pretty, at the same time. This goes into the earlier comment about positivity. Not all things are 100 percent positive and beautiful okay? okay. Glad we got it.
3. Stop telling me that my family problems will work out or that my parents "really do love me even if they don't show it."
One of the things that held me back from true happiness for years was this ridiculous absurd perpetuated myth that all families reunite later on when everyone's beautiful and in their prime of life, like an Oxygen movie. I heard it from foster parents, therapists, and caseworkers. That my parents really did love me. That everything would be okay. That time would heal everything and we would have a reunion. As a result I waited (not very patiently, because not having a family is abnormal and nobody likes being THAT person on Christmas) for the reunion, waited for them to come around. I put all my efforts into maintaining the most unhealthy relationships of my life, and it was all a waste.
A baby elephant was abandoned by its mother. The mother gave birth and then stomped on the baby. They gave the baby back, and she stomped on it again. They eventually decided to hell with this mother and consoled the poor little guy, who cried for five hours. I keep telling people this and I keep getting flack for it but here goes again: nature is cruel and mean and nasty and doesn't give a blue fuck about your perceived "family." Family is a nice tribal illusion we've had over the thousands of year's we've evolved, to stay in packs with and to thus exponentially increase our survival rate. Family is fantastic when it's a healthy family--like the healthy family bond between Henri and his mother that I am fascinated to watch and have never seen anything like. They get along and love and support each other and I am just in awe at how wonderful they are. But I also understand that I will never have that bond. I am wasting my time, my emotions, and the good parts of my life if I focus on fixing something that can't be fixed. Yet somehow I'm the bad guy for choosing my own happiness, and turning my back on the family who treated me the equivalent of the stomped baby elephant.
Shut up. When you tell people from broken homes that things will get better or that their parents "really do love them" even if their parent tried to stick a knife down their throat, you're only damaging the person more+. Just shut the hell up about your positive-minded paint the world pretty colors bullshit, and tell them something like, "Damn, your parent/s/ really do suck. What shitheads. Well, good thing you can be happy without them. I'm here if you need me." <<DO THIS AND SEE HOW THE EFFECTIVENESS RATES SKYROCKET.
4. Stop telling me you'll pray for me.
If you understand the way an atheist's mind works you'll totally understand that praying is hilarious and childish to us. When someone says "I spent the morning praying" they might as well say "I spent the morning playing toy cars and a dinosaur came and broke my tow truck." It's just absurd and ridiculous. But hey if that's what you want to do in your free time (and only in your closet, please, as the Bible states) then go for it. I like farts so I can't call anybody immature.
But do not in your cotton-picking everloving son of a biscuit eating life tell me that you'll pray for me. I will translate it into something equally as stupid, and I will probably never speak to you again at the very, very least. Here's a sample translation:
"I don't believe in god."
"I'll pray for you to see the light and come to our Savior Jesus Christ."
"I don't like toast."
"I will talk to myself and beg my imaginary friend Dave to change your own perspective on this thing you don't like which I do like, because people who believe in toast are obviously the correct group."
See how awful that sounds? It's just gross. And praying in general irritates me, because people want to let me know on Facebook, they're sending prayers. Oh god please come on. Come on. You really sat down and earnestly asked God to help this random Facebook person? And they say it like it's some kind of Harry Potter spell zipping through the air and will soon hit the person and give them whatever it is they need. "Sending prayers your way!" "Wingardium Leviosa!" It's insulting to my humanity that you say something so completely ridiculous.
It's just passive-aggressive way for Christians to say they'll be in heaven and I won't, but if they were so concerned for real I would ask them to you know...pray where it's needed. Or actually go out and volunteer at a soup kitchen and DO something.
I'll just leave a quote from Hitchens here...I've been on a Hitchens kick lately so you're welcome.
"Now, let’s take a case of someone who’s been dealt a bad hand: what about Fraulein Friesel in Austria whose father kept her in a dungeon where she didn’t see daylight for twenty-four years and came down most nights to rape and to sodomize her, often in front of the children. I want you just to take a moment to—since you’re so interested in the downtrodden and the helpless—imagine how she must have begged [God]. Imagine how she must have pleaded. Imagine for how long. Imagine how she must of prayed everyday, how she must have beseeched Heaven. Imagine, for twenty-four years. And no. No answer at all. Nothing! No-thing! NOTHING! Imagine how those children must have felt."