Taking it Personally

I was recently told that my actual existence is something people could do without. To be clear I was told my opinion or anything I say doesn’t matter. I was then told, “I can’t take a joke”. I have learned over my 50+ years on this planet when someone reacts to my taking offense to something they said — they realize they went too far. 

How would you react? Am I the ass for not laughing or finding it funny? It’s me right?

In my head I heard “You know, you don't even count. If you disappear forever, it wouldn't make any difference. You may as well not even exist...”

My go-to reaction is to get quiet. I get quiet when someone is being unnecessarily cruel about me or to me. If someone picks on me, I shut up. Feel like being mean, I will sit there and take it. It’s a response decades in the making. Apparently, that is me “over-reacting or being dramatic”. Growing up I was taught, that if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything. Doesn’t mean I’m not thinking anything, just means I’m keeping my reaction to myself. 

Unfortunately my face, since developing Ramsay Hunt Syndrome, looks like I have a permanent resting bitch face or that I’m somehow “making a face”, which to be honest I really can’t help it. I think if I were to try and “fake-smile” it would be like Sheldon on Big Bang Theory when he’s trying to be “happy” for Koothrappali.

Everyone jokes, everyone teases. It’s a learned behavior we pick up in kindergarten. Most kids tease in harmless ways. There are moments when teasing, and joking turn into bullying and go too far. Bullies that troll online or hide behind a screen name, seem to think it’s ok because social media platforms have zero consequences. The verbal assailant can get the twisted attention they seem to crave.

Being unjustly mean to someone and then falling back on the —

“I didn’t mean it” 

“It was just a joke”

“You take things too seriously”

“Stop taking it personally”

“Geez, learn to take a joke”

These responses make the bully the victim because the butt of the “joke” took it personally. Instead of owning up to being an ass, the bully now gets offended. It’s messed up. 

My Middle School Hellscape

My parents were lower-middle class when I was growing up. In 1972 when I came into this world, they lived on a chicken farm in Indiana. My dad’s job at the time was working that farm. In turn, it provided a house. They then met the Arnolds. On a whim, my dad and Len decided that they were moving to Ohio. My mom was given 30 days to pack up the house and they moved to Canton, Ohio during a massive blizzard.

We lived in an apartment, rented 2 houses, and they finally purchased their home when I was 12. During that time I went to 3 different school districts in Stark County. This last move meant I was going to a brand new middle school. I knew one person. The fear I had was palpable. I remember walking into choir class, the piano was against the chalkboard, and on the opposite side of the room were bleachers. That first day, that first class, I walked into the room and saw two groups of people sitting and chatting with each other.

It was 1980 and yes race was still very much divided. Coming from a city school, it was a very awkward moment.

In the back upper corner of the bleachers were a group of kids and closest to the door were another. At that instant, I made a choice. This is when I met my middle and high school best friend.

Middle school is what I like to reflect back on as my personal “hell”. There was a defining moment that determined who I would become as an adult. During my 2 years at this school, I became friends with another core group of girls, I will call them “lunch friends”. Lunch times were divided, so I never really had lunch at the same time as my best friends. Everyday for most of my 7th grade year we all sat at the same table together. I had other friends that had lunch at the same time, but I choose to sit at this table. Why, because where you sat defined who you were, right? Every tween movie since 1970 depicts this scene. EVERY SINGLE ONE!

Many middle schools provide an extended field trip for a weekend, where we as new teenagers get to leave our home without our parents for a weekend. It’s a big deal and while most schools go to Washington D.C to explore the country’s capital. Our 7th-grade trip was to Dearborn, Michigan and the Henry Ford Museum. Exciting? umm…

This field trip required sharing a room with 3 other girls. Since there were 7 other girls that made up the “lunch” friends, I was the “she can be our 8th” during this field trip. It was during this trip when I realized that these friends, were using me as a joke. I was the laugh. My shoes, clothes, and everything was a joke. I tried to brush it off and laughed but I got quiet. I withdrew into myself and at that moment felt lost. I remember finding a different seat on the bus ride home.

Lunchtime rolled around the following week and still sat at the same table and the jokes started again. The teasing started again. I was over it. I stood up and said “That’s it, I’m done — I’m going to sit with my real friends” and I walked away and sat with two other friends. I don’t remember but according to my mom, I came up extremely upset and wore black a lot after that. Makes sense. It’s a great color to wear when you don’t want to be noticed by a bunch of assholes. I never did talk to those 7 girls again.

High School was a blur of figuring out who I was, and what I wanted to do, spending the majority of my time in the choir room or art room. 

I’ve spent most of my adult life trying to please everyone, trying to become the best at what I did, trying to be accepted for who I was. I had always put others' feelings and wishes ahead of mine. I worked hard, I went above and beyond helping others with their businesses, and their passions, and the moment I said, I’d like to chase my own dreams — I became selfish. 

I’m selfish for moving.

I’m selfish for staying.

I was selfish for abandoning them.

I’m selfish for going.

I’m selfish for not sharing.

I’m selfish because I didn’t have kids.

I’m selfish for staying single.

I’m not worthy of an opinion.

I’m not worth it.

I’m not good enough.

I don’t have kids and can’t understand.

I’m not thin enough.

I’m lazy.

I’m not talented enough.

My ideas are not valid.

I’m being overdramatic.

I’m loud.

I’m annoying.

I’m a martyr.

I’m not smart enough.

I’m not good enough.

Each one of the above statements has been made to me over the years. Should I consider it all a joke? 

Those who constantly tell someone “you’re not worthy” through actions and other comments are not worth the tears, or the energy given them. I have walked away from friendships that were the one-sided “I want you around because you will/can do things for me” friendships. Once they have what they wanted you are of no value. It’s the equivalent of unexpectedly being slapped in the face.

Somedays I get into my own head, worry I’m not good enough, not worthy happiness, that I shouldn’t take it personally or over analyze EVERYTHING. I should just be quiet and fade into the background.

Those days I relate to the Taylor Swift song; “It's me, hi, I'm the problem, it's me.”

Then I put on my “GenX cap” and try to smile like Sheldon.