Sometimes it doesn't matter what you meant. Sometimes a person needs to take responsibility for the how they sound. That being said, stop putting down my job. Would you criticize a mother for posting updates and funny anecdotes regarding her children? What about the person who works at a coffee shop even though (or because) they hold some kind of artistic degree and can't make a financial living through their craft? Is that person wrong for writing about their daily life and events? Are we only aloud to publicly share what is deemed the most impressive aspects of our lives? Many people do that, and it's become socially acceptable to build a persona online that may or may not be accurately reflective of the life we live or the amount of success we've attained. Should portraying ourselves in a way that leans in the opposite direction be frowned upon because it seems ridiculous to waste a platform which allows us to maintain the persona that better fits our personal criteria for success? Don't we want to make others jealous of our achievements? Don't we want to convince ourselves that we're happy and satisfied with our current place in life by logging into Facebook every day and seeing that carefully sought out image we painstakingly chose to represent our worth to everyone we've ever known? It's a fantastic opportunity to bury how much we hate ourselves. And by hate ourselves, I actually mean how hard we are on ourselves.
There's something to be said for getting by and surviving. Paying your bills and having enough left over to let loose over a six pack and laugh at the things that will otherwise make us cry. It's hard for me to accept that this in itself doesn't fall under the criteria of success. I feel incredibly successful because at this point in time, however brief, I'm capable of comfortably supporting myself. But apparently I'm falling way below the status quo, which states that I should not only be financially comfortable, but be living the "dreams" other people hold me responsible for fulfilling. The dreams they hold onto because if achieved they will be proven right and they'll receive extra brownie points for believing in me the whole time. Or, better yet, offer up unsolicited advice and a self-proclaimed sacrifice of time and resources in order to carve their name into your deemed success like a wealthy beneficiary on the side of a building. Apparently, I should be ashamed of my lack of achievement and would be wise to accept advice and guidance from the people who know me best. And by know me best I mean remember me as a cute, outgoing child with good tonal pitch back in 1988.
Following someone's Facebook persona, and I say persona and not profile because they are not mutually exclusive, does not mean you have any working knowledge of their life or intentions. You only know what they present, which should only be taken at face value. I choose what I put out there based on what I want the world to see. This is a piece of who I am and I'm offering it up on the internet. This is not the whole me. This is me between 1:30-2:00 on this particular Tuesday afternoon. If you choose to color between the lines with dramatic facts and assumptions, that has nothing to do with me. You have a right to do so. I do it because there's no way not to do it. But that's between me and your persona, not you and me.
As mentioned, I lean to the other extreme in my online persona. Behind the scenes I'm shaping, fixing, and rebuilding. I'm spending time, money, and a whole lot of effort and personal reflection to be the kind of person I would want to be friends with. I don't post about those things because they're private. Maybe not private for someone else, but private for me. I don't want to record every step I take and achievements reached because it sets up others for false expectations. I like using the trials and tribulations associated with living a relatively grounded life, complete with the sublime and the ridiculous, as a no-fail source of laughter. I have to laugh at everything. If I don't laugh at everything I might as well kill myself. There's so much untapped humor in the world, and if we give ourselves permission to examine life's events from a less-than-serious perspective, suddenly life is worth living. Even when it's not.
I have to work to make a living. Duh. But apparently not a "duh" for everyone. I'm sorry if by my holding a stable day job which just happens to involve contact with fecal matter undercuts my life's successes. On the contrary, my poop-handling sheds light on what I am most proud of. At this time, because of my JOB, I can afford voice lessons. I can also afford therapy, without which I'd be faced with pushing an emotional boulder uphill while simultaneously refining my musicality and vocal range. It is because of my JOB that I can afford to take classes and continue my evolutionary artistic journey. I come in skin to skin contact with poop in order to clear the path for my artistic self. I believe, more than anything, this attests to my enthusiasm for life and everything I love. If you had a different dream for me, I'm sorry I let you down. If you think I need help, you're probably right, but if you're convinced I specifically need your personal brand of help, I suggest examining why your desire to help pushes you to the edge of insult. Advice should be an offering rather than a demand, especially when the advice is unsolicited. If you find yourself attempting to shame someone into taking your advice, you could be missing the point.
I'm doing just fine and I'm proud to be a hard worker. Somehow, if these were my kids I was caring for and not someone else's, I doubt I would come off as so desperate for an intervention by those who would gain so much more from my "success" than I would.
