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Dear Mean Me,
By Stephanie Kemp
Dear Mean Me,
By Stephanie Kemp
Dear Mean Me,
I know you are out (this means in) there.
Just come inside already. Stop lurking.
Here’s the problem:
I am 54 (currently).
I was raised well (mostly).
I do good things (usually).
I have always enjoyed the good will of the people (this is no longer universally true and only sporadic at best).
When you have become the grown up (in my case this means that both of my parents have died, but this transition can take many forms and happen at any time), your inner critic bitch slaps you anytime your evil twin tries to take a breath…
…anytime you don’t “speak kindly of others.”
…anytime “you should know better.”
That inner critic is a bear of a bitch.
Sometimes we need our meanness.
Sometimes, when bad things happen and you try to keep (all of) your meanness out, you will often have improper reactions to things like:
• The Effing Mean Girl trying to destroy your kid
• The Millennial Sales Associate who hissed, “Don’t touch me!”, after you told her you liked her sweater while accidentally sifting through the petites
• The Incessant Dreams that keep you awake each night
Shouldn’t you renegotiate a deal with your meanness so that it can help you to more effectively tackle these life moments and make more constructive choices?
For example (of less than ideal choices/thoughts/dreams):
• Did the Effing Mean Girl really deserve to be called a Human (rhymes with) Cubic Square?
• Why did you cave to the Scary Millennial and give her your actual email address? How can you (now) manage the (real) rage every morning when you get her (seasonal) sale notifications?
And, regarding your sleep ruining dreams:
• Do you think any of these dream fragments reflect the subconscious of an emotionally well adjusted person?
1. A toddler at the grocery store too young to wear a mask but old enough to have lip fillers yells at her mom to give her the iphone
2. A neighbor gets hit by a car and her snarling pufferfish puppy drags her on the leash down the street because it still wants to finish the walk
3. The elementary school principal judges you for not contributing to the teacher appreciation lunch, despite the fact that she stole your wallet and knows that you, very sadly, never had kids
4. The production company executive tries to get you to sign a DNR at the screening of your new tv show, because she hopes you will die but likes the show
I know where my kindness lives (in my poems, in the films I make for children, in my friend Kayla*, in the hot breakfasts I make my daughters on school days), but where can I put my meanness?
I miss it.
And need it.
I have to let it in sometimes so that I don’t become a reactionary extremist.
Welcome, Mean Me.
Please come in.
And then get the fuck out.
*Obviously not her real name, as she would want no part of my meanness…..would she?
I know you are out (this means in) there.
Just come inside already. Stop lurking.
Here’s the problem:
I am 54 (currently).
I was raised well (mostly).
I do good things (usually).
I have always enjoyed the good will of the people (this is no longer universally true and only sporadic at best).
When you have become the grown up (in my case this means that both of my parents have died, but this transition can take many forms and happen at any time), your inner critic bitch slaps you anytime your evil twin tries to take a breath…
…anytime you don’t “speak kindly of others.”
…anytime “you should know better.”
That inner critic is a bear of a bitch.
Sometimes we need our meanness.
Sometimes, when bad things happen and you try to keep (all of) your meanness out, you will often have improper reactions to things like:
• The Effing Mean Girl trying to destroy your kid
• The Millennial Sales Associate who hissed, “Don’t touch me!”, after you told her you liked her sweater while accidentally sifting through the petites
• The Incessant Dreams that keep you awake each night
Shouldn’t you renegotiate a deal with your meanness so that it can help you to more effectively tackle these life moments and make more constructive choices?
For example (of less than ideal choices/thoughts/dreams):
• Did the Effing Mean Girl really deserve to be called a Human (rhymes with) Cubic Square?
• Why did you cave to the Scary Millennial and give her your actual email address? How can you (now) manage the (real) rage every morning when you get her (seasonal) sale notifications?
And, regarding your sleep ruining dreams:
• Do you think any of these dream fragments reflect the subconscious of an emotionally well adjusted person?
1. A toddler at the grocery store too young to wear a mask but old enough to have lip fillers yells at her mom to give her the iphone
2. A neighbor gets hit by a car and her snarling pufferfish puppy drags her on the leash down the street because it still wants to finish the walk
3. The elementary school principal judges you for not contributing to the teacher appreciation lunch, despite the fact that she stole your wallet and knows that you, very sadly, never had kids
4. The production company executive tries to get you to sign a DNR at the screening of your new tv show, because she hopes you will die but likes the show
I know where my kindness lives (in my poems, in the films I make for children, in my friend Kayla*, in the hot breakfasts I make my daughters on school days), but where can I put my meanness?
I miss it.
And need it.
I have to let it in sometimes so that I don’t become a reactionary extremist.
Welcome, Mean Me.
Please come in.
And then get the fuck out.
*Obviously not her real name, as she would want no part of my meanness…..would she?