An Open Letter to You Who’s Being “Nice”

Dear Bones...

Dear You,

It has been a rainy Monday on my commute going to work. Wet feet, wet jeans, wet bag. Rainy days are no fun unless one is holed up at home. But this is not about the rain nor is it about how I hate getting my feet wet when I’m even so much as an inch away from the perimeters of my home. This is about you being nice to me all of a sudden. This is also about you suddenly being click happy on my social media posts. Look, don’t get me wrong — Okay. You’ll probably get me wrong because this IS going to sound offensive, whether it’s true or not. You see, I have nothing against being nice. In fact, nearly all my life I have been championing practicing kindness on each other. I even practiced kindness on not one but two ex-girlfriends of my then boyfriends, even though they were already stealing my then boyfriends from me. And what did I do after getting dumped and left behind even though I was nice to those girls? I was not hell-bent on revenge. I was hell-bent on forgetting the boys and moving on, as I am many money away from building my empire. Haha. See? I have no beef with being nice. But this… But you… ARGH.


Okay. You used to acknowledge my existence only when needed or forced. Or when you’re in a good mood. But then even when you were, it wasn’t just me you were being nice to. It was everybody. Everybody was your bestfriend, including me. Me, who had never gone out with you because I wanted to. Me, who had never told you one personal thing about my life because I wanted to. But this time, I am being one of the few people you’re being nice to. So yeah… I find it odd and out of place that you have been circling around me recently, all smiles and stories and concern. But knowing myself, I can only stand on tiptoe and watch and wait. Heaven forbid you have something up your sleeve again. You do have a track record of doing exactly that: Being nice when you need something. Be warned, though: I come armed and prepared with gallons of coffee and a cabinet full of chocolates and gummy bears. Those are great things to unleash the beast. The sugar high, caffeine-invoked beast within me will talk your ears off the next time you come to me. I’ll talk and talk and talk and talk until your ears bleed and you’ll hastily draw up an excuse to leave me in the peace of my own sanity.

But wait. I’m not done yet because… You there. You barely know me. I have been pretty much invisible the past couple of years where you’re concerned. So much has happened in my life, some moments and non-moments that I sometimes share in social media. You barely grazed those posts for years. But then. But then one day: BAM! You liked this post, you liked that post, you liked that other post. Why the sudden likes and hearts? Again, don’t get me wrong. I am all for encouraging fellow women to lift up and inspire each other, even if it’s something as silly as clicking on those hearts and thumbs up icons.The only thing that’s confusing me is the large possibility that I know exactly why you started doing this in the first place. And that is enough to make me want to swear off social media forever. But then again, there’s always Snapchat. And maybe Bumble BFF. (Clearly, I haven’t even tried that app. And clearly, I better.)

I am not sure what to make of this. Hopefully, it won’t blow up in my face, whatever this is. I’ve had enough crap to deal with, okay? Please stop if you’re just here for your own agenda. I am a fragile flower and do not take it in stride when encountering wolf in sheep’s clothing. Please keep that in mind.

With great suspicion and mental & emotional exhaustion,
Little old me

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