Month: January 2014

WARNING: This may make you cry :)

Was the Subject line I was greeted with recently in an email from a dear friend. Of course I opened it expecting to see a clip of a dog rescuing ducks or a baby meeting its mother for the first time. What I wasn’t prepared for was the sweet, yet adamant, email telling me if I’m not going to stand for some bully making fun of me, why do I do it to myself?

I recently wrote a post describing my experience with a bully. I asked how friends would have handled the situation and everyone came through with words of wisdom and nuggets of awesomeness.  I can’t thank my friends enough for giving me their honest feedback – some good, some bad, and yes, some downright ugly.

But the best thing to come of that post was this dear friend calling me out on my BS. I hate pictures of myself, even though I love this article and wish I could get it through my thick head. However, a lot of times when a friend posts a picture of me, I comment in some joking fashion usually with negative undertones. Case in point: I threw a surprise party for my husband last weekend. I am a very hot-natured person so naturally I was sweating up a storm during the night from the massive pile of hair on my head. I always do – it’s a given. A friend took a picture of us and I posted it online, but noted that I was “a wet poodle” in it. The next day, husband took a picture of me playing with Legos and posted it without my knowledge and I gasped when I saw it online; I was in pajamas, hair in a horrid ponytail, no makeup, and fat everywhere. I commented that I wished he would stop taking and posting such horrible pictures of me.

Then I received this email:

Last week, you posted a story about a stranger at Bourbon Street karaoke that you found out had said mean things about you, took pictures of you when you saw him again, and just generally was a demeaning ass. It hurt you so much that you left the building! It affected you to the point that you had to share it with people who care about you to help soothe your feelings. 

Wanna know something? You are that asshole in your own life! 

Nearly every time there is a picture of you on FB – whether you post it or not – you make a comment (though in the form of a joke) about how you look. In the picture of you and Daniel from the surprise party, you referred to yourself as a poodle because of your hair. In the picture Daniel lovingly posted of you playing with Legos, you focused on what a “bad picture of you” it was. 

Why do you get so upset when someone else says hurtful things about you but then say hurtful things about yourself? All the people who know and love you think that you are an amazing, gutsy, funny, beautiful woman, but I don’t know that you always believe or claim those things for yourself. 

Next time that you put yourself down – in your own head or vocalizing it to others – imagine that it was the asshole from the bar saying it and stop! If no one else has the right to be mean to you, you shouldn’t be mean to yourself, either. 

The girl is right. And I owe her a ton of gratitude for verbally slapping me in the face and waking me up. Right after I received that email, I saw this great article on Tiny Buddha that said:

Take a good look at the people in your life that you love—your spouse, your children, your parents, your siblings, and your close friends…You see them as truly beautiful—and these people view you the same way. Remind yourself every day that the people who truly count recognize your beauty and try to validate their good opinion by believing it yourself.

Amen, sisters!

Naked in Savannah

I recently posted a funny (now) little story about my belated honeymoon trip a few weeks ago to Savannah, Georgia. A few friends aren’t on Facebook and asked me to post it elsewhere, so here you go! Enjoy my nekkidness. 🙂

The man and I hadn’t taken a trip together all last year, even after getting married last February. So, we pooled our resources, saved up our time, and planned a mini honeymoon over Christmas vacation to Savannah. We drove over on Christmas Day and stayed 5 days. Five glorious days in another city with fine food, art, libations, and no clothes.

Yes, that’s right…no clothes. Here’s how the conversation went:

Arrived in Savannah, Christmas night. Got the car unloaded and settled into the hotel room. Looked around at all my many bags to get my pajamas out –

Me: Honey, where’s my suitcase?

The Man: What suitcase?

Me: The one with all my clothes in it.

The Man: I don’t know. Did he not bring it up? I didn’t see it in the trunk. I could have overlooked it.

Me: No, you wouldn’t have overlooked it. It would have gone in firs…..oh……wait……it would have needed to go in first because it was the biggest. And I don’t remember putting it in there.

Me, frantically calling our friend who was house and pet sitting for us. No answer. Thinking…thinking…thinking…retracing steps. I had a ton of bags and brought down as many as I could carry in the first trip downstairs. Oh wait….I never went back upstairs for the rest. For my SUITCASE OF CLOTHES.

Text to sitter: Did you see a suitcase upstairs, by chance?
Sitter: Yes, I wondered about that. Was hoping it was there on purpose.

AGGGHHHHH!

Yup, went on vacation and left all my clothes at home. After losing it for about 15 minutes (I had a full come apart on Christmas day on my honeymoon in a beautiful hotel room), The Man calmed me down and assured me we would go shopping for clothes the next day. I didn’t need much, but still…I had such cute outfits packed. After a little while longer I was laughing about it. And then laughing every 15 minutes thereafter just thinking about it. I cracked up all weekend after my meltdown.

We went to “commercial Savannah” the next day and got a few items. As it turns out, I came upon 2 pairs of jeans in my other bags while we were there so all was fine. But imagine going on vacation and finding out THE EMPEROR HAS NO CLOTHES when you got there. I was wearing leggings and a t-shirt for the 7 hour drive over. That.was.it.

That wasn’t the BEST part of the trip, but it was definitely the funniest!

Leave me alone!

Earlier this year. Bourbon Street Karaoke bar in Irondale. My husband and I joined two of our friends for a night of fun after a Barons’ baseball game. We had a drink, sang some songs, and were having a great time. I get up and sang my heart out. I sat down and the friend’s husband starts talking about a guy across the bar who was saying things about me while I was singing. Mean things. Our friend was irate and wanted to go talk to him for saying negative things about me, his friend. I couldn’t process what was happening and before I knew it, I was gone. I left, got in my car, and drove home crying. I left my husband there, I left our friends there (they drove separate), and I didn’t care. I was mortified and upset. Why would someone say those things about me? Someone who doesn’t even know me and has never seen me, let alone MET me, before? Who does that at our age anymore? Why would he keep on mouthing off to the point of riling up our friend? Why would I let it affect me so much that I felt the need to rush out of there without a word to anyone? WHY?

Our friends brought my husband home and he calmed me down, but was quite upset that I just left. Understandably. But I was embarrassed and horrified. I was 11 all over again getting called “Scary Sherri.”

Fast forward to a month ago. Some friends invited us to Bourbon Street for a party. Of course I went…I LOVE karaoke. About an hour into it, he walked in. I had completely forgotten about him until he walked in and looked at me. He recognized me and I recognized him. He started whispering to all of his friends and they kept looking at me. Then he took a picture of me. WHAT? I desperately wanted to go say something to him, but Daniel asked that I not start anything. Because it would have been bad. He asked that I not let him affect my night and just have a good time. Too late. The longer he was there, the more he whispered and pointed and the angrier I got. Again, I got up and left without a word. I got into the car and waited for Daniel. I had to message our friends to apologize for the abrupt exit and explain what was going on. They were all very supportive.

I know bullying is an issue. I’ve known it for a long time, but didn’t think it really happened to people my age anymore. Apparently I was very wrong.

Now here’s my question to you: At my age (38) and my maturity level (so-so), how do I handle that if it happens again? I don’t want to stay away from Bourbon Street because I love karaoke. But I don’t ever want to see his face again. If I do, I might punch him…happily. I don’t know what to do. I obviously cannot ignore him, I wish I could. What should I do? What would you do in my situation? All feedback appreciated!