Sunday, January 14, 2007

A real problem (or maybe I'm the one in lala land)

This is not your usual rant about email forwards. I'm here with a specific gripe.
Don't know if I've been blogging long enough for this to be quite obvious, but I'm not the mushy type. Still, I feel that this matter goes beyond my personal tastes.

I'm referring to the zillions of poems, waves of checklists, mounds of sweet graphics, that pour inspiration into our inboxes nearly daily, telling us about the perfect friend, husband, wife, and mother. I'm telling you, the one who wrote it doesn't have one.

They're there to convince you that there's something lacking in your life. You're not a good enough friend, nor do you have one. NEWS FLASH: Your life is perfect. So's mine. We just need to get used to our kind of perfect.

I used to long for a best friend. This started in about second grade. The perfect friend is the one who sits next to you on the bus every day, lets you copy the colors she uses, shares her snack with you at recess. Of course, you reciprocate. You go to each other's house after school nearly every single day, yet never run out of things to whisper to each other over lunch.

Over the years, this definition became only slightly more sophisticated. It took quite a long time before I realized that I probably would never have this "best friend" -- but it was OK, because I didn't really want her. I have my own precious friends and we follow our own rules, and I wouldn't trade our relationship for all the matching notebooks in the world. I have no need to read emails telling me that someday the special someone will come into my life and send me chocolate just for nothing... know supernaturally, cross-continentally, when I'm feeling down and need a hug... wipe all my troubles away... or whatever they're saying the perfect person should do this week.

You'll notice that most of the touching photos that accompany these emails consist of kittens and puppies. Ever wonder why they couldn't find an adult human perfect enough to impress you? Stop saying "awwww" at the poems and look at the beauty in your life. The person who wrote that poem is guaranteed misery because they will never find the person who fits their imagined ideal. Don't be fooled.


Lvnsm27 said...

I agree, no body is perfect and so people shouldn't expect that from others.

Anonymous said...

Great post. I heartily agree, as I am not the fluffy type either and I get really aggravated at these forwards sometimes. It's seems like people are from a different planet than me, and it seems that many of these forwards are not for frum Jews. They are "feel-good-isms". Fluffy, cute and silly. I'm glad to hear I'm not alone in my thinking.