❤️ The Shy Pervert Blog ❤️ [Entry Two] [Events & How Pressure Can Kill Joy] (Patreon)

So, a controversial opinion, but an opinion nonetheless - events kill joy. Or probably more accurately, the pressure around events can kill joy.

So, what do I mean by events? Well, basically anything that involves people staring at you, waiting for a reaction. So, birthdays, anniversaries, award ceremonies, weddings, baby showers, Christmas, etc, etc, anxiety-inducing etc.

Now, I want to preface this by saying that I am in no way bashing these events as a whole. If you enjoy any of the above, that’s absolutely wonderful. I think joy is one of the most subjective things in the catalogue that is human experience. What brings you joy might not bring me joy and vice versa. This isn’t a pissing contest, (partially because I don’t have a dick and I feel I’m at a disadvantage) but mostly because happiness just shouldn’t be about “my way is the best way”. Happiness should be about what works for you.

And for me personally, the pressure that can come with these events often kills any joy I could get from them. And to some people, I can imagine that this might seem like a poor, even, ungrateful attitude to have. “Oh, boo-hoo. You don’t like parties. Get a life and be grateful for your opportunities”.

And just so we’re clear, yes, I did very much enjoy imagining these non-existent people get mad at me.

But, that’s truly not what I’m trying to say. I’m very aware that I live in a wealthy, first-world country, and because of many other factors, I lead a very privileged life. I make no bones about that and I’m incredibly lucky to have been born where I was. However, that’s not really what we’re talking about. I flatter myself to be somewhat self-aware, at least enough to know nobody wants to hear me go down the pseudo-intellectual route. I’m not an intellectual. I’m a fuckwhit and I’m mostly okay with that.

So, I’m gonna stick with the genuine fuckwhit route because I know my lane.

Now back to my actual point: I can totally see how people might think I’m just unnecessarily examining something and I should just enjoy parties for what they are. And yes, I can see merit in that, at least to some extent. But I actually don’t think I’m trashing birthdays or weddings or any occasion to celebrate. I think I’m just saying that sometimes we put too much pressure and money into something that really doesn’t need it.

In my limited experience with other people, I’ve found that the more money, effort and stress we place on something, the higher the expectation for enjoyment, happiness, and well, that cursed word - perfection.

And yep, you guessed it - perfection really doesn’t do it for me.

To look perfect, to feel perfect, to be perfect - is just not me. I never feel perfect. Never. Even on my best day, even when I feel so in love with life and spreading positivity - perfection is just not on the cards.

Not for me, not for my life, and most certainly not for events.

For me, the magic of being with my husband isn’t about looking amazing and having everyone look at us. It’s about the fact that he’s him, and he’s in my life, and he’s loyal and kind and just generally a fantastic human being. And so to me, weddings, even our own wedding, cannot come close to reflecting that. Which is why our wedding was the smallest, least fussy, unromantic thing you could imagine. No expensive dress, no months of organisation and stress, no one but two random witnesses given to us on arrival - just us and the desire to be legally tied together.

Again, this is not a pissing contest, nor an opportunity to virtue signal. There’s plenty about me that’s not virtuous, and mostly, that’s the stuff I like. This is about recognising that no one’s life should come down to a single moment. Happiness isn’t some once-in-a-lifetime happening that if missed is missed forever. There is always an opportunity for spontaneous, completely unscripted joy. And that’s one of the few things I find genuinely reassuring about life.

So, what am I trying to say with all this? Well, essentially, I’m saying don’t beat yourself up if things don’t go perfectly at these events - chances are they won’t. And that’s not because you don’t deserve perfection - it’s just that that’s life. Something can, and will most likely go wrong. Someone will be late, a baby will spit-up on your outfit, a distant aunt will make drunken, thinly veiled insults.

Life is colourful and those colours often clash, but it’s okay. You will be okay. This moment, whatever it might be, will not be your last. You will smile again, you will laugh again, and in a few years time, you probably won’t even remember why this was so important to “get right” in the first place.

Things move on, priorities change, and moments become memories.

But there you’ll be - still you, still just as capable of finding joy in the unedited, organic mess of everyday life.

Also, please just take into account that I am an antisocial fuckwhit and I quite literally only have two friends. So, my way is most definitely not the only way. If you enjoy pouring thought, money and anticipation into an event, then more power to you. 

I'm not much of a believer about anything, but you do you really does have a nice ring to it.  

I hope to see you again soon with more fuckwhittery.

Best wishes,

Tea