So the other day I found myself in a stinky situation, with a stinky person, who was acting – yep, you guessed it – pretty stinky. I mean, it wasn’t even as if I deserved the stank. I’m a very diplomatic person and (if you watched my Instastories, you would know) I prefer to not go all Shaneequa on people, when I feel that they’ve wronged me. I don’t do playground cat fights. It’s not my jam. Simply because I get that people are people. I always try to look at the situation with the bigger picture in mind… you know, stuff like: what is the other person going through right now, which factors could be influencing their decisions, am I overreacting, can they prove this in a court of law. You know, that sort of thing. (Kidding about the court of law… kinda).
Anyways, so here I sit, in all my “ke Dezemba” glory (duh, no pants, with an electric fan on full blast in my face) staring at my phone as I continue to get one stinky message after the other. And this after I had, so diplomatically, tried to be kind and understanding and, you know, the light and all of that.
And then I felt it. It was an overwhelming sensation, bubbling from deep down in the pit of my belly. A feeling that I could not control or contain. I tried so hard to ignore it but… wait for it… wait for it….. bleeeeuuuuughghghghghg …. WORD VOMIT. All over my good intentions and diplomacy.
Nice Luchae was straight up mad and rude and uncool and I wanted to say ALL THE WORDS in the world!!! And so I did, you guys.
The result? Well, not as great as I expected. Because, for starters, the recipient of my word attack isn’t all “kumbaya be the light” as I am, and so this person responded with an even worse attack of word vomit. But more than that, I was just bummed that I allowed the crap situation to get the better of me. I mean, I’m not this person. I’m not the type of girl who would lose her cool. Because my spreadsheet brain tells me that losing my ish won’t solve the situation. Staying in control will. My spreadsheet brain reminds me about peace over war, and to love the unlovely and to turn the other cheek. My spreadsheet brain asks me what would Jesus do. My spreadsheet brain… was absent on this day.
Anyways, my point is that I deeply regretted my vent. Because, my friends, there are ways to get your message across and it doesn’t involve calling people names.
Have you guys ever experienced this instant regret after you basically chooned someone their whole fortune? I mean, sure there is the temporary gratification… but do you feel bad afterwards? I always feel bad. Always. And here’s the shocker though… not everyone does (feel bad after they’ve vented all over someone’s day).
It got me thinking: is being mean a thing now? Is it something we celebrate now? We seem to love the Fiona Coins and Gordon Ramsey’s of this world.
I’ve heard people say that venting is their thing. “Oh, I will tell her exactly what I think of her”… I’m sure you’ve heard this before… you know the type of people I’m referring to? I never get them. Who wants to be the person who responds to conflict with a swear word. What does that even mean when you’re deep into your 30’s, and you have kids? What does that even mean, when you’re a professional human being? What does that even mean when you say you love people? How will your harsh words and rants solve the problem, I ask with tears in my navy blue eyes?!
Where’s the room for compassion? When do we make room for grace? How do we show love and kindness? And how on earth can we be celebrating this on our social media (ag don’t look at me like that Patricia) and then we attempt to teach something else to our kids?!
Also, if you have something to say to someone, surely you can do it in a kind/stern way WITHOUT an audience? (That last part is crucial, yo). Surely you can do it without having the need to brag about it to your friend? I don’t know, I’m just sharing ideas here. Let me know if I sound like I’m insane. Hoping I’m not. Because that would mean that the world has turned into one big ol meany pants. And that would suck. (I know. I just said “meany pants”.)
Hit me up in the comments section below. On a scale of 1 to Adolf Hitler, how mean are you?