It’s my b-b-b-birthday! Yes, hooray for me! It’s been an all round good one, spent with good friends (except Andy, of course, and that SUCKS). I’ve got a new job, a new career path and a reeeaaally sore neck for my efforts, but the sore neck is worth it. :->
On to the meat of this entry, which is all about misanthropy and my joyful, nay, gleeful dispensation of it to those who sorely deserve it. First, I feel that a textbook definition is required:
misanthrope (miz’•an•throp [long O]); noun, “a hater of mankind”. Courtesy of the Random House Dictionary.
Hence, misanthropy is the act of hating mankind and a misanthropist is one who hates mankind. Got it? Good.
Now, about my misanthropy and how it manages to ooze out no matter how hard I attempt to keep it sealed in. I have never, ever denied being a people hater. I detest the unwashed masses and I endeavor to avoid them as much as possible. Anyone who has read any of my Rants *should* know this. Stupid, clueless people are my favourite subjects.
My misanthropy was fostered at a young age, typically directed at my parents or my classmates. I’ve always hated huggybears (people who are always so nice, no matter what, and their fakeness is nauseating) and malkins (people – usually women – who do their best to conform and not rock the boat of social mores). As a child I distinctly remember thinking that my parents were such asses for fighting like schoolyard punks right in front of us. My brother would always get scared, but it made me angry at them for being so self indulgent and grossly inappropriate. I’ve always been a questioner and I’ve never, ever followed directions unless they made sense to me. I’m a misanthropist much to my parents’ dismay and disbelief. Nevermind that they reek of antiintellectualism and their own brand of misanthropy, they just don’t understand why I have such a “bad attitude”. Hmmm, what a mystery.
Add cynicism to my general distaste for people and you would think that you’d end up with someone unable to carry on a conversation or be near people without some sort of rage, but that’s not so. I can be just as charming as the next malkin, er, person. I have the gift of gab and I am a great salesperson. I can talk to anybody, anywhere. No problem with that. The problem is when I have to uphold this social façade for long periods of time or when I am presented with behaviour that pisses me off and I don’t feel obligated to pretend that I don’t get it. Anyone who knows me knows that I’ll only keep my mouth shut for a short time before the smartassed remarks slip out or my true disdain begins to shine through the mask like the sun through the trees. I’ll say I told you so. Just “get to know” me and you’ll hear it at some point. Promise.
Anyone who knows me knows that I do NOT like huggybear behaviour in the least. Hugging people I don’t know is just not natural to me, nor do I think it’s appropriate for people I don’t know to pry into my personal affairs or engage me in debates then get angry when I trounce them. There is a group of people that is doing these things to me at the moment and I’m having a very hard time trying to be neutral in the face of such an all out attack of huggybearness. This group of people has been snarky to me and when they got a whiff of my disdain for such silly psychodrama, they began their assault on my character with religious zeal. They claim I’ve done something wrong by not joining in their group dynamics. They claim I’ve done something wrong by defending myself when I was verbally attacked by one in their group. They have a long list of grievances. All I want is to be left OUT of the psychodrama, dammit!
It is the trademark of a malkin or a huggybear to force conformity, because anything less makes them nervous. Needless to say, I make this group VERY nervous because I refuse to play their game of ‘name that dysfunction’. Sorry, folks, I’ve been there and done that with my own family and I really don’t need a refresher course. But thanks for playing, and have a nice day.
I refuse to apologize for being me nor will I apologize for defending myself. I will not apologize for noncompliance with rules that I do not agree with. I do not understand why I must play the conformity game to placate people that I wouldn’t care to hang out with in the first place. And why do they care so much about getting into my business? It’s not like I’ve encouraged them, but then again, that’s probably the very reason that they want to “know me” better. Huh, yeah, they want ammunition, that’s what they want. If I know one thing, I know how people work. Especially groups. They will draw you in and then happily knife you in the name of conformity. It’s called socialization folks and it just doesn’t work on people like me. (Andy can identify with this statement fer sure!)
That’s why I work for myself. My clients love me because I fix things fast and typically permanently. I do not bullshit them and I do not coddle them. I’m in, I’m out, no painful social interactions that last more than a few hours. That’s why they like me! Now take those same qualities and put them in a 40hr a week cubicle and it’s absolute chaos. It’s the same with groups of any stripe. Like families. I am fine with my family for a few days, but beyond that it may get tense. We have a working arrangement that is very equitable and keeps us all sane: don’t ask, don’t tell. They don’t pry into my bidness and I don’t blab about my bidness unless the subject is to be made public. It goes both ways and as long as we all comply with those simple rules of engagement, we get along famously. That is all I expect from anyone, really. Don’t try to force me to play. It won’t work, baby. I’m a Scorpio. Force is a bad thing to use with a Scorp.
It’s a shame that people have such a hard time with this concept of individuality. It’s a shame that they just can’t comprehend the notion that what they think or say may or may not matter to me and I may or may not react in a given fashion. Why can’t they stop taking every little thing personally? Just because I don’t play the drama game does not mean that I don’t like the people involved. It means that I don’t want to be involved in family or any other drama, that’s all. I’ve wasted a lot of time with malkin and/or family drama and I don’t want to go there anymore.
One of my favourite authors is Florence King, who wrote With Charity Toward None: A Fond Look at Misanthropy. Her book Confessions of a Failed Southern Lady made me realize that I am not a malkin, nor a huggybear. I am a misanthropist and damn proud of it.
