Buffalo Tirade: Intentions Schmintentions

Ok, look.

First I’d like you to read the following, which showed up on a friend’s page in my Facebook newsfeed today:


Sounds pretty good, no? Yay for celebrating curves, yay for PJs, yay for not pretending to be someone you’re not. Yay for all those things.

But I’m still snorting and pawing the ground about this one, because of the its first five words: “I’m not hot or gorgeous”.

Even overlooking the fishing-for-compliments aspect…actually, let’s stop there for a second. Officially I’m opposed to fishing for compliments. Officially I find it tacky. That being said, I totally get it that sometimes you just need a little external validation, y’know? Sometimes you want someone else to tell you that you’re pretty, or smart, or funny; and that’s really, really ok. All I ask is that you’re upfront and honest about that. One of the greatest things I ever read was from a friend who was having a rocky day, and who had the courage to step right up on her Facebook status and ask people to say something nice to/about her to help lift her mood. (Also, I have stolen that idea and am holding it in reserve for one of Those Days when I need a little extra love. You may want to start brainstorming now. Fair warning! /grin) So if you need some compliments, then by all means, just ask for ’em! I can’t speak for anyone else, but I like complimenting people. I like coming up with new and interesting (and highly specific) ways to say “You rock and I like you”. I will validate the bejeezus outta you, if you ask for it.

…But I digress. Back to the tirade.

So overlooking the fishing-for-compliments issue in the “I’m not hot or gorgeous” opener, my larger problem with that is this:

How dare you try to tell me who I should or should not find attractive?

How dare you try to tell me who I should think is hot, or gorgeous?

How dare you try to lead me down that path? Because here’s the deal, chickadee–we are all battling our own internal demons. There are plenty of us who will look at pictures of you–whoever you are–and then look at pictures of ourselves, and think “Well, if she’s not hot, then I’m definitely not hot. Just look at her [insert enviable feature here]!” So, y’know, thanks a lot for the sneaky ninja insult buried in there.

And in addition to all of that, as it happens, I actually do think the person who liked’n’shared the image is attractive. I have seen some simply lovely pictures of her (we’ve never met in person), and have admired her hair, her fashion sense, her deft hand with the makeup brush, and her success at getting into shape. She’s a pretty gal, and that’s all there is to it.

So y’know what, sweetiepie? You’re just wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong. You are both hot and gorgeous, and I will not tolerate anyone telling me otherwise. Not the fashion magazines, not the television, not anybody.

Let’s put it this way: walking up to a person and telling them that they’re ugly is a spiteful, cruel thing to do. If you want to get feisty about it (and I’m in a feisty mood today), it is no small stretch to call that “hate speech”. And I will not tolerate hate speech from homophobes, who also want to tell me who I can and cannot find attractive. I will not tolerate hate speech from racists, who want to tell me who I can and cannot find attractive.

So I’m damned sure not going to tolerate it from you.



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Filed under Don't Make Me Come Down There, General Musings and Meanderings

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