You Don't Know What You're Saying

This is a reiteration.

Would you mind shutting up if you see me bloated after not seeing each other for months, or years? Would you mind telling me that I look nice or radiant (even without the words ‘pretty’ or ‘beautiful’)? After all, I am happy and that probably shows. Would you mind telling me that you miss me because it is such a long time we have not seen each other?

Would you want to receive the same remark or worse, a shoddier salutation that your dress does not fit your swollen belly? Or better, would you want to hear that your fashion taste is very poor? Or even better, you look more like a coke in can?

I had enough of these people. How could some people greet you in such a nasty way when they look worse than you, or shabbier than anyone else? How could words blurt out from their vile mouths when they are in a way oozing with plainness or a run-of-the-mill stance?

I could have greeted her with “Your hairdo fits you!” just to make her feel good all throughout the day. But I was not able to do so. Her unnecessary remarks just dampened the warmth.

“You don’t know what you’re saying!” shouted my mind. I would want to do the same but that would not be me. “Civility costs nothing and buys everything.”* Besides, I should have accepted the fact that she is not alone. A lot of people do not know what they are saying.

*Mary Wortley Montagu (1689 - 1762)
British writer.