I had a friend who had a fantastic blog (no this isn’t a “friend”, she’s a real person who is not me). I loved it and her because she always had something inspiring to say. Every day she wrote something eloquent and motivational about loving yourself, following your dreams, not needing a man, and standing strong. And I loved her for it. I read every single day and would text her with my thoughts, which usually ran to, “that was so good!” And then she met a guy. Or I guess I should say that she got involved with a guy because she had met him long before. Her blog didn’t change. She continued to inspire, to write about her pursuit of confidence and a positive self-image. But offline, it didn’t take long for me to see a change. Despite her preaching female power and independence on her blog, the walk didn’t exactly match the talk. She fell under this guy’s power despite warnings from friends that he was no good, that he didn’t treat her right, he was controlling, and he couldn’t be trusted. She insisted she knew what she was doing and continued to see him. She also continued to write about loving oneself and putting your own life first, way in front of the needs of any guy or relationship. She also continued to ask me and her other friends for advice on what she should do about his bad behavior. As you might imagine, she was none too pleased when I told her to read her own blog and take her own advice.
We’re no longer friends, despite what Facebook says. I no longer read her blog either. I can’t stand the idea that she thinks she lives up to the message she promotes when I spent too many nights listening to her complaints, holding back the accusation that she was a hypocrite. And it became my mission to make sure I never did the same thing with this blog. I would never write a thing that I didn’t believe in and try to achieve in my personal life. If I didn’t live up to my lofty words, I would admit it and show that although I know what I should do, sometimes it’s hard to actually push myself to make it happen. At least if I was going to fuck up, I wouldn’t lie about it. I refused to disappoint anyone the way she had disappointed me.
But that’s the thing, when you build someone up to great heights, it’s nearly impossible not to be disappointed. Like Taz (non-NYC guy I have a crush on). At every corner, Taz managed to not only live up to my standards, but far surpass them. Even when he was being a jerk, he’d somehow find a way to make me laugh and forget that I wanted to kick his ass. I’d hate him one minute and vow to never speak to him again, and he’d manage to weasel his way back in twenty seconds later. He surprised me with his love geekery, even while teasing me about my own geeky tendencies. He drove me to ranting anger with his critiques of my writing so that I dug in my heels and promised (myself) that I’d prove him wrong. I’d catch onto something that I swore would make me see him as less than perfect and I’d feel the shine start to fade from my crush. And then he’d come back with the verbal equivalent of a floppy-eared puppy smile and it felt like the disappoint I felt only a few minutes ago had been revealed as only a passing cloud.
There’s no such thing as perfection. Everyone will disappoint you eventually. Everybody leaves and everybody lies. Words I’ve lived by and felt justified over and over again. After all, I had a cast of characters strolling through my life that proved my point time and time again. And because every rule needs an exception, I had Roo who has never disappointed me. But what happens when you have another exception who teases you into thinking you’re right one minute and then blows it all away the next? What happens to my infallible maxims then? Apparently, they get hit by a Tasmanian devil who has no idea he’s wrecking my carefully crafted beliefs. And to that I say FML and hold on for the ride.