Last night my husband and I had the same old tiresome subject come up again about what we’re going to do next. I hate it and I call it a tiresome conversation because it seems to suck the soul out of me whenever we have it. There’s never any solution. There’s not an easy fix, easy answer or perfect compromise. I don’t want to go back to the U.S. At least not the way it is now.
Let me put it to you straight- whether right or wrong I get the bulk of my information as to what’s going on in the world via Facebook. Yep. I see what ‘articles’ are being passed around like a virus, what status updates are status-ing, and the sound bite blurbs. This has become my America. Basically I feel ‘back there’ people are all carrying/stockpiling/defending their handguns (including members of my own family), Donald Trump is a real thing that isn’t going away, and that internal competition for affirmation from others has become a sickness amongst the masses.
Look at me!
Look at what I bought!
Look what I did/am doing/am gonna do!
All I can do is sit here and wonder why this is necessary. Is everyone like this? I don’t want to know.
Furthermore, it brings me down.
It brings me down big time.
I hate questioning myself as if my own photo or that quip wasn’t pretentious. I don’t want to be that person. That person I’ve heard about who won’t shut up about their super-ultimate-busy-creative-I-Am-SuperPerson life. I cannot handle people like that- which is why they don’t exist in my real life or Facebook world. BUT… they’re out there because I keep hearing about these people. Whether it’s yet another mommyblog post moment cherishing or bringing the sass against traditional parenthood— ENOUGH. How can you not be sick of you own sanctimonious self????
Ironic right, that I’m putting this in my blog? Well these days it’s more like a diary.. so there.
And the funny thing is- that I wish upon all the wishes that this was just social media and not, in fact reality.
I don’t want to move back and live with these people. I don’t want to hear why we need guns, partake in political shenanigans, or chug the kool-aid. Here, I don’t always know what the people around me are saying (since its in Dutch) so maybe that’s part of my oblivion. But also, I doubt it. The Dutch are just more sensible I think. Happier. Not trying so damn hard. Then today a funny thing happened that brought this whole post on in the first place.
I popped into the gas station because I was running on fumes (literally and figuratively) . I thought what the hell I’ll get a coffee. A Starbucks coffee since they put in a new self-serve touch screen thingy recently. I haven’t had Starbucks in years- mostly because there isn’t one in the vicinity of where I live and because I didn’t like their bitter coffee. But anyhow.
So I get in my car with my coffee (tall because that was the biggest size. Take-out coffee is sort of sacrilegious here) and head to school to pick up the kids. I have ten minutes and I’m not quite done with my coffee but I realize I would rather be caught dead than bring my ‘togo’ coffee cup with me (Starbucks no less) up to the school to stand around with the rest of the parents and have them see it.
Because I would feel like an asshat if I did.
Yep. Can you imagine the very idea that having a togo Starbucks coffee cup could possibly make you feel stupid? Because it did. I was embarrassed. I didn’t finish it and left it in the car hoping no one would see it when they walked by my window.
That’s the kind of life I live right now. And I like it. We all do our thing/have our stuff/go our places and it’s cool. Normal. Not in your face. I don’t feel pressure to keep up or show off. I was never really very good at those things anyhow so I’m pretty sure that’s why I’m so content.
But back to my worries
At one point in my life I felt I had found a sort of utopia within a group of moms. I lasted about five years thinking we were the only sane people on the planet and discovered that I was wrong. When I realized that the only sanctuary I thought I had was in fact, not perfection, I became disillusioned. Which in turn also makes me feel like there is no hope. No hope back there.
I don’t want to raise my kids with competitive assholes mimicking their parents. They don’t have the ‘bigger, better, more’ philosophy and I don’t want them to either. They’re happy. They’re homework-free kids who laugh a lot and enjoy a simple life. No one is judging us (I assume?) and no one makes us feel like we’re making bad choices or wrong decisions. I don’t doubt myself. I am happy and complete. I don’t have a perfect life, but isn’t that what it’s all about?
I know it’s not the same everywhere. There have to be some pockets of reason and contentment out there. Because that’s what I feel is lacking most- people happy with what they have. Not working more to make more to get more and ultimately (?) be more. People with that mindset drain me of energy, happiness and optimism for a better tomorrow. I don’t like feeling like a deflated balloon.
I know for a fact there are people who go out of their way to instill insecurity, jealousy and pain in others. It hasn’t been difficult for me to remove these people from my life- but I don’t think everyone can do that. I have the luxury of distance on my side which makes it easier. But still I worry that I’ll be sucked back into it when we return, when I don’t have that distance and can’t tell myself it’s not real. It’s all just on social media.
Why would anyone want to mess up a good thing? And when will I ever stop worrying about worrying?