Hello darling,
I’ve been wondering…
Has raining on other people’s parade always existed, and social media simply magnified it?
Or were people once genuinely happy for one another (decent, respectful) when someone expressed joy about an activity, an interest, or something they loved?
Asking for a friend.
No, really.
It feels like the Internet has become the Olympic champion of this sport, with the comment section carrying the torch.
In my world of flowers and rainbows, public shaming simply doesn’t exist.
Everyone wears beautiful clothes, laughs easily, makes love often, and creates things that make life sweeter.
So I can’t understand what goes through someone’s mind when they willingly plan — outline, script, film, edit, upload — an entire piece of content just to rain on someone else’s moment of joy.
I’ve encountered this so many times lately (perhaps you have too), and I’m starting to wonder if people have collective writer’s block. And the only way they can get words out is by complaining.
For example:
I recently developed an healthy obsession with an author. Imagine me, typing her name into the search bar, wide-eyed, ready to inhale every word she’s ever written.
Again, in my unicorn world of roses and soft pink clouds, I expect to discover interviews, forgotten essays, documentaries, or new books to devour.
But no.
There it is again: the hateful video, the smug commentary, the reviews, the articles dripping with cynicism.
Why.
Can’t.
People.
Just.
Mind.
Their.
Own.
Business.
Don’t you agree that, in real offline life, when someone doesn’t like something, there are respectful ways to express it? Or, if one has even a drop of emotional intelligence, simply to change the subject and move on?
Some would say that they’re entitled to their freedom of speech, their own form of “self-expression.”
Maybe I’m being a dictator of ambiance, but I’ve always felt self-expression belongs to a higher frequency.
It’s meant to emit beauty, energy, something that nourishes the world.
Anything else is just… complaining. And for that, we have journals. And therapists.
So here’s my point:
If you love something, if you truly love it, whether it’s an artist, a hobby, a color, a garment, a couch, a book, a movie, a mascara, a song, a brand, a country, a meal…
Please don’t let people rain on your parade.
You love these things for a reason.
They represent a fraction of you.
And I know how some comments can echo in your mind for days, but don’t give them that power.
On every exhale, ask those thoughts to leave, to stop living rent-free and sabotaging your joy.
And the irony?
I’m realizing I’m publicly ranting about this very topic instead of writing it in my journal or telling my therapist.
So I guess none of us are escaping this spiral anytime soon.
Just kidding.
Enjoy every bit of your life, love.
Every drop of joy is yours.
