“It’s nice to be important but it’s important to be nice”. So says some smart aleck who probably feels very important regardless because they have a trite phrase that people trot out. In my head those people are all exactly like Patty Simcox from Grease with perky ponytails and twinsets whose farts smell like caramel and who always say fiddlesticks instead of fuck.
I am always a bit wary of people who don’t swear, mainly because I find it so satisfying to drop a fuck every now and then. It’s such a great way of punctuating things, of getting attention, and of well just expressing oneself. A family member once told me that I swear too much and that it showed a lack of vocabulary. I say fuck that, and am pleased that said family member has now joined the realms of those who love an ‘F’ bomb.
But back to the niceties. The non-swearing ‘being a good friend’ and all round wonderful human being chat. I had what can only be described as a ‘friendship disappointment’ the other day, a shock out of the blue which made tears prick my eyes and a lump form in my throat. Don’t get me wrong it also made me rage over WhatsApp to anyone who would listen but the primary feeling I had was of real true sadness.
I felt like a total mug and like I’d been taken for a ride, taken advantage of and made to feel so foolish. I determined that it was because I was too nice and the friend sat next to me disagreed because she thinks it’s impossible. I’m not talking about being Susie Sunshine to everyone you meet and nor was she, she was merely saying that where friends are concerned nothing is too much.
If you’re a friend of mine I would do anything for you let’s get that clear. I’m ride or die, get rich or die tryin’, friends ’til the end loyal, and sometimes that loyalty means I AM too nice. I’m too nice to people who don’t deserve it, who have proved either by their actions or by their complete INaction that they simply aren’t worthy. My problem is that sometimes it takes me far too long to realise it, and even then once it’s realised it can take me an age to pluck up the nuts to do anything about it. I also vacillate wildly between being hurt to the bone as I was the other day, and between making excuses for the other person. They’re tired; they have a lot on; they’re stressed; it’s a Wednesday; the weather is bad; on and on until I’ve excused away their shitty behaviour and leave myself feeling like a bad friend for thinking badly of them. A vicious circle of feeling bad upon feeling bad.
But where does it go? Where does it stop? (watch for the sign of the lollipop…) I don’t want to stop being the friend I am because let’s face it I’m fricking awesome at it, but I also don’t want to be a receptacle capable of holding hot liquid anymore.
Answers on a postcard?