Scrolling through Facebook does it. Falling victim to the rabbit hole of Instagram does it too. Based on the highlight reel of life that is social media, you create a picture in your mind of exactly how someone else is living.
We know this picture isn’t accurate, right?
To solidify this fact, just know that I took 27 shots of me sipping on tea from our hotel room overlooking Yokohama Bay in Japan before I got one I thought I liked. Twenty-seven. Then I edited the one I chose! Of course, in typical Not Your Average Gal fashion, I mentioned these facts on the Instagram post to keep things real, you know, in case anyone was wondering how my life as a supermodel was going.
We see the seemingly picture-perfect life, pass judgement (or jealousy) and participate in talking about it, very often with other female friends.
“Did you see…so and so…?”
I don’t know about you, but sometimes I find myself around when these conversations are happening and they aren’t typically kind ones. (And dare I say, sometimes I catch myself participating.)
I’ve been a victim of those unkind conversations too. Full-on jealousy and eye rolling at what’s going on in this life I choose. This life I work damn hard for. This life of mine and mine alone.
It’s that toxic bullshit gossip that continues the negative undercurrent of nasty competition amongst our fellow lady gangs.
But, in an effort to combat it and rally support, I have something to fight it! Something that I’ve used many times and has stopped the gossip in its tracks.
Good for her. Not for me.
Now I’d like to give credit where credit is due and thank my therapist or some motivational book or Brené Brown or probably a saying I pinned on Pinterest in a fit of rage, but I honestly can’t remember where I heard it. So, let’s just consider this one a thought that everyone should know in the world.
That disgusting diatribe of nit-picking another woman down to her core based off of other perceptions, your perceptions, other opinions, other life experiences is so…basic. Truly.
It takes so much wasted time and energy to think about how someone else is living their life, in a way you may never ever do, and cut it down to some negative Nancy, sarcastic Sally, cryptic Cathy way. Anyone who has any sense of self at all, anyone who is self-aware, anyone who is kind, can see right through that nastiness for exactly what it is: low self esteem (or a miserable life…).
When you take the onus off the difference between your version of life and someone else’s, it’s simply comes down to a preference. A preference to take a different path or choose a different paint color or–GASP–not get stainless steel appliances.
Good for her. Not for me.
What if that difference came in the form of support, rather than disdain or judgement?
So often the way another person lives their life literally has zero effect on you. Zero. (Well, aside from my younger brother who legit has never visited me, which means I’m stuck carrying around a stupid street sign he stole as a kid that he still wants, packing it from house to house and move to move until he comes to visit or pays for shipping. THAT choice directly affects me. Butthole.)
So, if the choices another person makes does not directly affect you, it boils down to your frivolous scrutiny as to whether it fits your standards and accordingly, then your judgement. What a way to live!
We could try being cool on for size though with how another women lives. Let’s go!
She wore a bikini and isn’t thin.
Good for her. Not for me.
She posted another picture of her dog dressed up in a holiday sweater.
Good for her. Not for me.
Everyone in her family is wearing the same exact outfit for family portraits.
Good for her. Not for me.
She let her kid get the laser background in school pictures.
Good for her. Not for me. (Side note: I was SO JELLY TOAST of the kids that got the laser backgrounds in school pics.)
She doesn’t prioritize dating.
Good for her. Not for me.
She wore navy pants and a black sweater.
Good for her. Not for me.
She’s at another rally supporting a cause I don’t care about.
Good for her. Not for me.
She chose to freeze her eggs and focus on her career.
Good for her. Not for me.
She chose to delay having kids.
Good for her. Not for me.
She has an army of children.
Good for her. Not for me.
She loves Kate Spade handbags.
Good for her. Not for me.
Her house is cleaned by a cleaning company.
Good for her. Not for me.
Her husband travels for half of the month.
Good for her. Not for me.
She’s perfectly happy living in her hometown for the rest of her life.
Good for her. Not for me.
She didn’t register for her wedding.
Good for her. Not for me.
She didn’t want a bridal shower.
Good for her. Not for me.
Her kids are all named after produce.
Good for her. Not for me.
<breathe>
That was amazing! Can you imagine how liberating it will be to spend your time worrying about your (own damn) self?
I want this to be a rally-cry of sorts. One of undying support for women and the lives they live.
I want this to be so ingrained in our minds that it’s our first reaction when someone watches Hallmark Christmas movies pantsless, with a half-eaten bag of tortilla chips by her side, guacamole crusted to her lips and zit cream on her face. (Or so I hear…)
Good for her. Not for me.