I’m at a party talking to an acquaintance, someone I’ve known casually for over a decade. We’re talking about some big changes in her life, and the decisions she and her family will soon have to make. She’s explaining that they’re having a hard time with one piece of the puzzle – where they will live – when she practically sneers, “We’re not your run of the mill suburbanites. That whole American dream, white picket fence thing is so average.”
Now, this woman doesn’t know a lot about my life. One reason is any time we talk, the conversation is mostly about her. Another reason is – contrary to my need to spill my guts on the blog – sometimes I don’t talk a lot about myself in social situations. But if she did know me better, she would know this: I live in the suburbs.
In this case, taking this woman out engaging in a dialogue about how snotty – and frankly, ignorant – she sounded was not worth it. Creating a row with her would have ripple effects for people I care about.
If I could have taken the discussion further, I’m sure I would have pointed out my residency situation; but more than that, I would have focused my conversation on one thing:
I don’t know any run of the mill people. We all have stories.
I suppose it’s possible that there are people who have never had a bump in the road, who lead an uneventful existence, doing nothing special at all. If nothing else, we need those people for characters in books and movies – they provide contrast. I, however, don’t know a lot of those contrast people.
I know real people, and a lot of them look normal, average, run of the mill, if you must, from the outside. They take care of their families, they take care of their homes, they work, they play, they are. But that stuff, it’s just the raw material.
It’s what we do with that raw material that renders us completely un-average, un-run of the mill. We take that raw material, we mash it up, stretch it, and shape it into our story.
Our stories include the fantastic, like world travels, professional achievements, athletic triumphs.
Our stories include the beautiful, like love, babies, the creation of art.
Our stories include the painful, like addiction, loss, illness.
Maybe we’re fighting a battle right now. Or celebrating a victory. Maybe we’ve lived through what we hope are the darkest days we’ll ever see. Perhaps we’ve already achieved greater things than we ever dared to dream.
Whatever the situation, I believe that if you take the time to look into someone’s soul, you’re not going to step back and say, “Eh, she’s pretty run of the mill, that one.”
I wonder…
:: Have you ever met someone who seemed perfectly average, only to be shocked when you hear her story?
:: Wouldn’t you just love to smack people when they say catty crap?
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Yes, and yes.
No one is average, boring, normal. There is something about all of us that makes us compelling. I think some of us are just more subtle than others.
My husband always says, “What’s wrong with living in the suburbs, having a nice family and a home you love?” There is so much more to people than where they live. We live in an old historic district with other couples who are artsy and want to restore houses. We love living here but unlike some of our neighbors, we don’t think we are better BECAUSE we live here… those in the suburbs are pretty awesome too!
And yes, I would LOVE to smack people when they say catty crap!
over the years i’ve come to expect the worst and the best from people- as well as not be surprised at how varied humans in general are. i dislike people like your “friendly acquaintance” who are so focused on the end of their noses, that they fail to see just how amazing and different other people really are. there’s no such thing as an “average” person, because everybody is different… we all have pasts, presents and futures that don’t compare to anybody else’s. the place where we live is just that- a place to lay our heads at night, not the definition of our personalities. (btw- i’m a very happy suburbanite too!)
People are people. You never know what silent battles they face. And it doesn’t matter where they live, what they drive or what labels they wear – we all walk the same earth with the same earthly issues.
When someone makes a comment such as that it simply sounds ignorant to me. She clearly feels the need to impress. Which, quite frankly, fails to impress me.
I think it is so short-sighted (a nice way of saying stupid) when people make comments like that. Or, it just makes me think that they have something to prove about their own identity. Something they are insecure about? Do they FEAR the suburbs? Are they not strong enough to keep their fabulously unique identities if they were to, gasp!, LIVE in the SUBURBS?! I’m sorry, I go on and on in a surly way. People are annoying me today. Wish I had been there. I could have gone off on her for ya.
Wow. That’s quite a comment to make.. just wow. I would probably not have been able to resist mentioning that my run of the mill life in the suburbs works just for me thankyouverymuch. Ugh.
How rude! It’s people like THAT that bring me writing fodder because they are so nasty.
Glad you took the high road. I’m not sure I would have.
Yes, yes, and yes.
I think about this sometimes while driving on the freeway. That every person in every car is going somewhere…
…doing something. That they have people they love and worries and fears and joys. That these things have nothing to do with me.
Or that maybe, somehow, we’re connected by degrees.
We all have stories.
And yours today was SPOT on.
XO
So true – there’s always another side to the people that we see and I have to remind myself about that all the time: -“Oh, she’s not as perfect as she looks!” etc, etc. As for catty people, they bore me. They really do.
I would have a hard time not at least rolling my eyes at someone like that.
I agree with you- everyone has a story. There’s always more going on than what we see.
There was an audible groan here this morning when I read your intro. Yay, for your wise perspective. And for holding back the smack!
We were in a church group with a couple who called themselves Urban Pioneers. Capitalized.
They were SO snotty about the suburbs. Now, I do wish my house looked different than the others, but it’s just my house! I live in it, not for it.
You were nice to not smack her in her upturned nose.
Oh, I wish I had the ability to let stuff like that go. I would have immediately said something. Then the party would have gotten very, very awkward. It’s why I’m not invited to many parties.
When I meet someone catty, I just know they’re turning around and talking about me.
And not just b/c they usually are.
Love it when you write “real” life things like this. I just do.
I’ve had a “friend” say catty things. My response, no response. I’m not going to her level. My other response, distance myself even more from her.
What a great reminder to keep telling our stories and listening to stories an becoming part of each other’s story. <3
I feel sorry for people like that, who lump everyone into categories instead os opening their minds and listening to the stories people have to tell.
Well said Missy. I always try to remember that a snide comment comes from the person’s own insecurities about their own circumstance.