Who Do You Think You Are?

Dealing with people for the better part of nearly 45 years has taught me something. People are shit.

People like to prey on the vulnerable, take advantage of the kind, walk all over the meek, and generally assert their dominance over anyone in their path.

Something happened to me over this winter. This winter had me sick and laid up more than any winter to date. I broke bones, I fell a few times, kept getting sick and my arthritis was at a 10 most days.

Now, I don’t know if it’s the menopause, or the amount of time I spend alone thinking, or the many videos and research I’ve done into dealing with narcissistic abuse from family and friends, as well as CBT (cognitive behavioral therapy), but I feel like I’ve aged in wisdom about 10 years or more.

I grew a backbone.

I’ve learned not a lot of people don’t enjoy my new found confidence, joie de vivre, my way of living, my lack of fucks to dish out.

Tough.

Who do you think you are judging others? Judge not lest ye be judged – Matthew 7:1.

The most effective way to be judged yourself, is to judge someone else. You don’t know what a person has been through, is dealing with, whether they have support or not, whether they’re being abused. So it’s best to keep your judging mouth shut unless you want all of your skeletons pouring out of your proverbial closets.

Who do you think you are to give me medical advice about my conditions? Last time I checked, your were slinging cannabis, not getting your degree in medicine.

Who do you think you are giving out life advice when your own house is a mess. If you’re a mess yourself, why let that influence and affect another person? Keep your mess to yourself thank you, and kindly fuck off.

Who do you think you are that because you have 1/3 interest in this home that you think you’re the boss? How dare you criticize when you’re a bit of a head case yourself? Do you NOT realize what we’ve endured during our tenure as your roomate?

Who do people think they are these days? Self absorbed, entitled, selfish twats.

Have you ever noticed how heartily someone will argue something they know virtually nothing about? Ignorant twat. The Dunning-Kruger Effect is at maximum throttle in our society.

To all the Brendas and Karens out there sporting your let me speak to your manager haircuts, who do you think you are? What are you doing hun? (We’re all huns here) Do you think you are the only women with children? Problems at work? Customer service issues? Wrong order sent to your table? Incorrect change given? Did someone cut you off in traffic, or take the parking spot you were gunning for at Walmart?

I think I need to remind you, you are not a unique snowflake.

What makes you so special above everyone else? I’d really like to know. Maybe write a little comment explaining why you feel you’re more important than anyone else in our world.

Who do I think I am? I think I’m just a busted up ol’ broad, blogging for free therapy, struggling to get through one day at a time. I stay humble. I am not better than anyone. I have issues and I recognize those. I am here merely by the grace of God.

It would serve us more if we could all be a little bit more humble. A little bit more compassionate, just a tiny bit more empathetic to others.

Stop the judging, the gossiping, the putting yourself on that pedestal that no one sees but you. Stop interfering with other people’s lives and focus on your own.

Because, who do you think you are?

Live Humbly, Be Charitable, Live Graciously.

S.

Image Courtesy of

https://churchsermonseriesideas.com/who-do-you-think-you-are/

Article Courtesy of

https://www.verywellmind.com/an-overview-of-the-dunning-kruger-effect-4160740

I Used To Be Pretty 

Ugh. I used to be pretty.” I mumble to myself in the mirror as I tweeze the stray hairs from between my eyebrows.  Like most women, my eyebrows are not naturally perfect.  In fact, I have a unabrow that I have been taking care of since junior high.  I really don’t care who knows because there are pictures of me floating around out there sporting big black thick caterpillars so I’m not fooling anybody.  In the nineties, it was all about the skinny brow.  I wore those too.  Back then I looked constantly surprised.  We all did.  It was a frightening time.  That’s where The Macarena lives.  I take my eyebrows seriously now.   I have left specific instructions with my partner as well as close friends that if I am ever hospitalized for any length of time, for the love of all things holy, please have someone come in and do my eyebrows.  Anyway, moving on, I used to be pretty.  I’m really noticing my age now when I look in the mirror. 

I have creases and lines around my darkened eyes that I try to hide with concealers and light eyeshadows.  I have noticeable lines around my mouth from laughing out loud and deep frown lines in my forehead from wincing in pain, and from saying “what in the actual fuck?” too often.  I have coarse gray hairs sprouting where my soft wavy auburn ones used to be. 

Things creak and snap and pop in a much older, much rounder version of a girl that used to dance with reckless abandon alone in her room to the B52s.  The girl who used to stay up all night finishing a Stephen King novel before she went to school now, at 43 holds that Stephen King book much farther away and prefers e readers because you can make the font large and these days, I’m all about less squinting.

I’m aging.  It seems to have snuck up on me somewhere between season 1 and season 7 of Game of Thrones.  

One night you’re washing your bar makeup off and when you splash your face and look up, it’s 20 years later and there’s some old broad standing where you once were with an “I’m too old for this shit” look on her face.  She thinks your music is too loud and that young people suck.  

I guess I’m not at that aging gracefully stage as there seems to be nothing graceful about it. Things drop, sag and hang and all the push up bras and Spanx in the world can’t hide the lie forever.  Why are my hips widening now?  The time for babies has passed.  It really seems like overkill.  

I’d like to conclude by saying something like, “oh but I am so much wiser.”  I am.   I’m wise to the fact that I’m looking and feeling haggard and old.  


This blog post brought to you by Queens of the Stone Age Villains.. On repeat. Thank God for Rock and Roll…

Live Humbly, Be Charitable, Tell Her She’s Pretty,

Sam
Sam Clattenburg