I know, talking shit about positive people is akin to talking shit about Christians. By the way, you toxically positive Christians are the worst. But this post ain’t for all you Pollyannas out there, mostly because you always think you’re right.
No, this post is for those of you who, like me, are sick and tired of these toxically positive people and how they claim to want to make you feel better but end up making you feel a lot worse.
I decided if Karens and Pauls can dish it out, they sure as hell better be able to take it. Read and grow, bitches!
For those of us who have suffered at the hands of cruel people, then at the hands of those who turned a blind eye to us or dared accuse we the victims of being culpable for our own abuse, followed by these overly optimistic assholes making us feel like we’re knee-high to a toadstool, I offer this:
- You didn’t ask for it
- You didn’t deserve it, and
- You don’t owe anyone, even yourself, to grow from it
That’s not to say that you can’t learn things about yourself as you learn to live in the aftermath of trauma. And yes, maybe you wouldn’t be as caring, or as kind, or as understanding had you not been victimized. But so what? Lots of people walk this earth caring about nothing past their own nose, so why shouldn’t you if you so choose?
Karen, keep your back seat psychology psychobabble to yourself. Nobody gives a shit what you think anyway.
“At least you learned a lot,” they say
when I’m wailing like a coyote in the darkness.
Yeah, I’m a fucking spiritual giant,
Surviving the terror, then insane starkness
of advice so cruel and idiotic.
What lessons should I have learned from his hot, acrid breath
and his deep gutteral groans as he thrust
until he went flaccid? I wished for death,
instead I had to get my shit together
and GROW! GROW! GROW!
No matter how horrible life treats you,
you should learn from the experience, you know.
Trifling back seat psychologists dispensing advice
as though all I had was a hangnail
oughtta be slapped.
They talk as though my spirit is frail.
Have you lived through all that I have?
I talk tough because I am tough.
Would you be as strong, or babbling
and oozing tears like a damn cream puff
if you’d lived through what I have?
Next time someone feels tempted
to remind me of my overflowing cup
of wisdom for which I should be grateful,
they can shut the fuck up.