(Part of an ongoing essay series involving the impact certain words have on our life. Although really, it's not all that serious...)
I've reached a point in my life where I've decided to openly embrace the L-word.
... No, not that L-word. I'm referring, of course, to "like". Much like I feel that friendship is an overused and underappreciated term, I think that the concept of liking someone or something is underrated, too.
Let's face facts here. The other L-word, "love" gets a lot of the spotlight in life. It's the glowy, sparkly beacon of all things great in the world, and the experience that makes it worth rolling out of bed in the morning (or into it, if you are one so inclined... but that's a whole other discussion).
It's pretty easy to get so sidetracked with the love issue that you end up oblivious to other factors. I've fallen victim to it many times. It's very, very easy to become wrapped up in a new love, the potential for love, a lack of love, or even the wistful memories of a love from the past (requited or that kind that I tend to end up with...).
But what tends to get lost in the shuffle is the simple notion of like. Generally, most people have someone that likes them. Quite a few people, in fact. Friends, family, coworkers, even random and assorted associates and strangers can like you as a person, whether they say so or not. And while we tend to take that for granted, it is no small thing. Having people that prefer you and enjoy your company far exceeds having people that couldn't be bothered to care or that outright hate you.
And most people in the world simply aren't going to love you. It's a fact that you might as well learn to deal with. Even if they say the words, even if you achieve sainthood, even if they write a song about you... you will not be universally loved. Which isn't to say that you'll be universally liked, but you have a better shot at that than the other thing.
And while it sucks to love someone and not have that love returned, the fact remains that more often than not, the person in question does still like you, just not necessarily the same way that you like them. In some cases, that may not even be true. They just may choose not to want to alter the state of your relationship the same way that you do. And while it can be very hard (and sometimes impossible) to get past your own sense of being scorned, you can always take consolation in the fact that they do have some measure of affection for you.
And if, in fact, someone does love you, you better darn well hope that they like you. Because despite what people might believe, it is possible to love someone but not necessarily like them. At best, it's some fringe relative that you feel obligated to because they're family. At worst... well, it's the stuff of Dateline specials and Lifetime movies.
So I'm choosing to embrace the "like" in the world. Which isn't to say that I don't want more love in my life. Quite the opposite. But while I don't have a small army of women chomping at the bit to love me (unless they're just really, really quiet chompers...), I have quite a few people in this world that like me. And that can be just as much, if not more fun and way more important in the long run than having the ever glorious love.
(... Except of course when you're missing that one thing, but like I said, that's a different discussion altogether...)
Showing posts with label Words of Impact. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Words of Impact. Show all posts
Monday, August 24, 2009
Words of Impact: The F-Word
(Part of an ongoing essay series involving the impact certain words have on our life. Although really, it's not all that serious...)
Life's a strange thing. We have all of these words that define who and what we are, but when it's said and done, we really can't define certain things.
Take the word "friend" for instance. We toss it around all the time to describe people we know and meet in life. But really, don't we toss it around a little too much? Or at the very least, a little too freely?
How many times have you ever called someone a friend not because you really felt that way about them but because you didn't want to imply that they weren't a friend while they were standing there? Or maybe you were talking to someone abut that person, and you felt like it would be more awkward to say anything other than "my friend' when referring to the person. We've all been there at some point or another.
One of the main problems we have with defining our relationships with others is that we tend to oversimplify the nature of those relationships. When it's all said and done, we only have the three categories of relationships to refer to people normally: strangers, friends, and "more than friends" (using whichever word we feel comfortable with to describe that type of relationship).
Yes, there are acquaintances and associates and coworkers and all those other words you can toss around. But we all know the truth about those, which is they essentially mean nothing. If you aren't at least a friend to someone, you're just a different class of stranger. Not that being unfamiliar with someone is such a huge crime. You can't be pals with everyone.
Really, we shouldn't take it so personally. It's only society's impression that everyone should love everyone that perpetuates the notion that every person in the world should be friends with everyone else (Barney the Dinosaur might have played some small part as well...). There's nothing inherently wrong with someone not being your friend and vice versa, but it does make one ponder the nature of friendship.
Granted, calling someone you aren't that close with a friend isn't a terrible thing, but it does set a bad precedent. Calling any random person you spend more than a few hours with a friend devalues the word for the people you really care about. Not to mention the fact that it subconsciously sets you up with the notion that the person is more important or trustworthy than they may be.
I've seen tons of cases where people claim that someone they've known for a few years from school or wherever are their best friends. This is generally followed by some event wherein the person then feels utterly betrayed or deceived by said best friend. This inevitably leads to someone shouting the phrase, "You're supposed to be my best friend!" or somesuch, when the truth is that the offended party really doesn't know the person well enough to be shocked by their behavior. And no, this doesn't just happen on Jerry Springer or Maury Povich.
I guess my point here is to say that friendship is in fact a pretty important gift to give and to receive. Try not to trivialize or underestimate the power of true friendship. And also, remember that only a small handful of people you meet in life will ever truly meet the standard of being called one.
Life's a strange thing. We have all of these words that define who and what we are, but when it's said and done, we really can't define certain things.
Take the word "friend" for instance. We toss it around all the time to describe people we know and meet in life. But really, don't we toss it around a little too much? Or at the very least, a little too freely?
How many times have you ever called someone a friend not because you really felt that way about them but because you didn't want to imply that they weren't a friend while they were standing there? Or maybe you were talking to someone abut that person, and you felt like it would be more awkward to say anything other than "my friend' when referring to the person. We've all been there at some point or another.
One of the main problems we have with defining our relationships with others is that we tend to oversimplify the nature of those relationships. When it's all said and done, we only have the three categories of relationships to refer to people normally: strangers, friends, and "more than friends" (using whichever word we feel comfortable with to describe that type of relationship).
Yes, there are acquaintances and associates and coworkers and all those other words you can toss around. But we all know the truth about those, which is they essentially mean nothing. If you aren't at least a friend to someone, you're just a different class of stranger. Not that being unfamiliar with someone is such a huge crime. You can't be pals with everyone.
Really, we shouldn't take it so personally. It's only society's impression that everyone should love everyone that perpetuates the notion that every person in the world should be friends with everyone else (Barney the Dinosaur might have played some small part as well...). There's nothing inherently wrong with someone not being your friend and vice versa, but it does make one ponder the nature of friendship.
Granted, calling someone you aren't that close with a friend isn't a terrible thing, but it does set a bad precedent. Calling any random person you spend more than a few hours with a friend devalues the word for the people you really care about. Not to mention the fact that it subconsciously sets you up with the notion that the person is more important or trustworthy than they may be.
I've seen tons of cases where people claim that someone they've known for a few years from school or wherever are their best friends. This is generally followed by some event wherein the person then feels utterly betrayed or deceived by said best friend. This inevitably leads to someone shouting the phrase, "You're supposed to be my best friend!" or somesuch, when the truth is that the offended party really doesn't know the person well enough to be shocked by their behavior. And no, this doesn't just happen on Jerry Springer or Maury Povich.
I guess my point here is to say that friendship is in fact a pretty important gift to give and to receive. Try not to trivialize or underestimate the power of true friendship. And also, remember that only a small handful of people you meet in life will ever truly meet the standard of being called one.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)