Love letter to a hater

Okay, so social media is a forum for over-sharing. And when you over-share, you open yourself up to all kinds of feedback. Positive, negative and just plain wacky and weird. I totally get it, and because I've often found myself talking about things like bodily fluids, fearing the penis and digging cookies out of the trash, I  really kind of deserve a good tongue lashing every now and again for being WILDLY inappropriate.

However, once in a while a comment just really needles me. You know, the kind that in your mind is so unfair, so undeserved, you just sit stunned for a second and then feel desperate to respond because you KNOW you have been wronged and if you just had an opportunity to provide a rebuttal everyone would see things your way?

Yeah. I had one of those comments today (sorry, not on the blog but another fabulous form of social media so you'll just have to use your imagination instead of finding actual comment). It was a comment to a totally innocuous question that came off as extremely judgmental. Maybe it was made in jest, but LORD HELP ME there wasn't a smiley face or any other emoticon that might indicate a little levity, so I was fairly ready to plant my fist in someones face after reading it.

I wrote several theoretical comebacks. Some had smileys, some were a little more pointed, and one version was just, "EAT ME" but I erased all of them. I just tried to keep telling myself that by engaging said person in some sort of verbal scuffle, I was giving what they said, and their hateful thoughts, too much importance. 

But hours later it is still eating at me. However meaningless this comment was, something about it made me feel LESS. Feel SMALL. Hours later, I'm still chewing on it, so this is what I want to say:

Don't judge me. Don't judge my lifestyle, my family, how we spend our time or how we spend our money. You have no right.


I'm proud of my family. I'm proud of our life, our home, our love and our respect for one another. I'm proud of how we've chosen to prioritize our time, energy and money to create this life. I'm proud of what we've accomplished, what we've built here. And I'm thankful. I'm thankful for it all. 


I'm not perfect. I'm not the perfect wife. I'm not the perfect mother. I'm me, but I'm doing a damn good job of being me, and that is the best thing I can do for my husband and for my children. 


So don't you dare judge me. You have no right.

Oh, and P.S.

EAT ME.