There is something a little ego-boosting (for me, at least) about acknolwedging the fact that the types of things that other people do; the ones that used to make my blood boil, are triggers for sympathy. You know, if you think of all of us as a collection of biology and experience. And if you can also accept that people don’t emerge from the womb as A/Hs (and seriously, wouldn’t the doctor just put them back in of they did?), then it’s not a big leap to the idea that experience leads to D/B-ery. And it’s rarely something fun that makes someone a D/B (yeah, I am thinking about whether I want my SEO juju impacted by people searching the actual words).
As a blogger, and sadly someone who relies on Facebook as my main/sole form of people interaction on some days (trying to decide how sad I want to sound right now), I have witnessed, even become the gleeful focus of, people who have remained dormant until an opportunity to correct someone else makes itself available. And it’s like some compulsive need resides in these folks to hurriedly point out the error and correct it. And yay for you, “corrector”, I’m high fiving your ego.
I think that blogging for as long as I have has allowed me to build up a bit of a resistance. The heart doesn’t race anymore at someone daring to display their dysfuntion on my blog or Facebook page. I believe that people have a need to feel acknowledged (oh, a topic that is so inherent in effective social media). And, fine, I acknowledge. And with my own ego issues (for better or worse) have chosen self-deprication as my hobby and art indulgence. So yeah, I don’t give a rip about my grammar, spelling or lack of knowledge about something I dared mention. Sometimes I suck at writing, sometimes I am lazy, and perhaps I am a little dumb too.
And I am not even calling someone out. Yeah, someone did something that made me examine this sitch, which I haven’t done in a long time. Perhaps it’s the time away from the blog. I don’t find happiness in pointing out what kind of life events bring people to that place. And I doubt that this is the kind of acknowledgement that they wish for.
What this helps me do (not always-always); and I swear it is not any well-thought-out attempt to “excuse” behavior, is feel a little kinship with the D/Bs (wow…from sympathy to empathy…check me out, beeches!). Hey, I’m middle pathing it folks and I reject the idea of doing the best I can as I do the best I want to, so perhaps I will find another term tomorrow. My point is that anyone who has lived a life holds a wee bit of that D/B-ery inside. Sometimes people decide to spray theirs by way of social media. Everybody duck. And check our inner corrector. Nobody likes a cocky corrector.
(I am posting this without spell-check. )
<considering the idea that I am becoming too “nice” to be interesting>
<decide to be meaner on my personal blog>