Your ugliness is showing, better cover up

This past weekend marked a monumentous event for my family. After seven years of dating, one house bought, one baby born, and over a year of planning, my sister and her husband were finally married.

As expected, it was beautiful and classy and so much fun. Just perfect.

What was unexpected were the ugly guests who decided to crash the wedding by spreading misery and judgement to everyone who attended.

I think we can all agree that there is a basic etiquette expected of the wedding guests. That etiquette includes showing up on time with a smile, being happy that you were even invited, and enjoying the celebration while keeping your focus where it should be –  on the bride and groom.

That etiquette does not include showing up almost two hours early (while the wedding party is still getting ready), demanding to be let in, arguing over who should be inside the venue before the ceremony begins, and attacking innocent people about the damn seating chart. It also does not include being downright nasty to the people who, without their dedication and loyalty, the wedding would not have come together at all. Who the fuck do you think you are?

While I still am not sure what your nasty attitude was attempting to accomplish, let me tell you what it did do. It proved that your ugliness is your true character. It proved that you cannot be trusted to show up and be happy for someone other than yourself. It proved that your heart is in fact ice cold and should be kept far away from the rest of us. And it proved that even with your attempts to sabotage an otherwise delightful day, you failed. The day went on, the seats stayed the same, and the people who matter had the grand pleasure of watching two deserving people celebrate their love.

One more thing. To anyone who stood behind this ugliness, silently agreeing or not speaking up against their vicious attacks, you own it too. Their ugliness is your ugliness.

For the rest of us, we’ll remember November 7th as a lovely, gorgeous, memory-filled day. We’ll enjoy talking about the good times, looking at the pictures, and continuing to celebrate their lives together.

And we’ll do all of that without you. And that’s just fine with us.


Dear Adulthood, you can suck it

Remember being a child playing outside in the dirt, and your biggest worry was, will I get to use the best digging shovel next? For children, that’s a real big problem, and it’s been known to cause fights.

I can remember when my older sister and I were kids, we would often be given one drink to share. This was a real big problem for me. So, I used my impeccable kid problem solving skills and I would purposely backwash, right into the can or bottle of whatever we were given to split, causing my sister to be grossed out enough not to want anymore of it. And boom, the drink became mine. Was it worth it to drink my own disgusting backwash in order to get my own beverage? Totally. (Sorry, sister.)

Too bad grown-up problems can’t be as easily solved as spitting into an open bottle to get your way.

I don’t really remember when I felt like I had actually reached adulthood, when I was an actual “grown-up.” Maybe it was when I graduated college or grad school, I’m not sure. Even then, it still felt like college life. Maybe it was when I landed my first “big girl job” within my chosen career field. Or when I got married, or when we bought our first house.

More likely, I think adulthood slapped me in the face when I learned how much of my hard earned income would go toward the student loans I needed to get the degree to get the job I had (how is this even right?). And when I learned that taxes screw you when you’re a responsible, law abiding citizen. And when I learned that there is zero support available or reward for people who actually work to pay their own bills.

That is adulthood. It’s all about the Benjamin’s, and it sucks. But I wouldn’t give up my education, my job, my home, my marriage, my fur babies. Not for a second. I worked my ass off for all of it and I continue to do so. Still, adulthood can feel like one big trap. It’s got ahold of me with a death grip and it’s not letting go.

don't grow up

What’s a grown-up to do? Well, the only thing I can do. Get up, go to work, come home, pay the bills, repeat. Because that’s what grown-ups do. And I’m a grown-up. There’s no back-washing my way out of this, although I wouldn’t recommend sharing a drink with me.


I’m going to go play in the dirt, with the best shovel, because I’m a grown-up. And if some kid won’t share the best digging shovel with me, I can just go to the store and buy myself one. Ha! Take that, childhood!

We don’t need to hear it

We have been trying and trying. We have been patient and poised. We have been hopeful and cheerful. We have been relaxed and we have been stressed. We have listened to a lot of sympathy, advice, and stories from people who are trying to help. We need you to please realize, this is our journey. And it’s delicate, and it’s hard, and it’s OURS.

Perhaps my words may help you understand someone in your life who is struggling with the same thing, or perhaps it will help you. Either way, I need to say this.

We don’t need to hear about your friend who spent four years trying to conceive before she did so successfully. This is not helpful. It only causes added anxiety about how long we may struggle ourselves.

We don’t need to hear that God has a plan for us. We respectfully request that you keep your beliefs to yourself. Pray if it helps you but we will decide when and if we want to accept any sort of religion as part of our journey.

We don’t need to hear you say that it will happen for us when the time is right. For us, the time has been right since we started trying.

We don’t need to hear your advice about what we should say to our doctor or which tests we should have done. If we want your advice, we will ask you for it.

We don’t need to hear that trying is the fun part. This comment is completely insensitive and untrue. Anyone who has struggled with infertility knows that trying, unsuccessfully over and over again, is not fun.

We don’t need to hear that your pregnant friend only wants a boy, or only wants a girl. What the actual fuck?!?! And while I’m on the subject, do not ask us what we want to have. WE WANT TO HAVE A BABY! That’s what we want. Gender is meaningless to us.

We don’t need to hear you say “just wait until you have kids” while we are in the presence of children. We ARE waiting to have kids because that is all we can do. This isn’t going to scare us out of wanting to have children. Also, our kids will be different because they will be ours (I know all future parents say this, but it’s true).

We don’t need to hear you complain about how your body is changing during pregnancy, or morning sickness, or difficulty sleeping, or just wanting it to be over. Please know that some women would give anything to experience these “problems” and some men would be glad to help their partners through it.

We don’t need to hear your repeated sympathies. Once is enough. And please, for the love of all that is holy, do not give us anything baby related. This is incredibly hurtful.

What do we need to hear? Nothing. If we want to talk about it with you, we will. If we want to share a part of our journey with you, be glad and just listen. Be respectful of our boundaries and keep what we tell you private. It is not your journey and it is not your information to share.

It is our journey.

We know you are trying to help us feel better about all of it, but please realize, this is a sad and frustrating thing and we need to be allowed to feel sad and frustrated. It’s part of the process. We know you care and we know you are thinking about us. We appreciate your love and your quiet support.

We don’t need to hear it. We can feel it. And that’s enough.