Yes, I Really AM that Nice-- Most of the Time

I haven't posted in awhile because I am a believer of Thumper.

If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all.

With all the nastiness about politics and a few very bizarre interactions that I've had with people in the past few weeks, I decided to not post.  About anything.

I think one of my recent Facebook posts read "I really like pumpkin."  Because I could think of nothing less inflammatory than my love of pumpkin.

I had a friend comment that Americans are consumed with politeness and I shouldn't feel compelled to hold back.

Here's the thing-- I really AM that nice.

I am.

With that said, I will take down a bully in a heartbeat and I don't back down easily.

But I was never mean.  I very rarely say nasty things out loud.

Do I complain about people? Absolutely.

Do I get mad?  Of course.

But I am inherently nice.  It's just who I am.

I am fascinated by people who aren't.  People who feel the need to be loud and argue.  People who are obsessed with proving how smart they are by making others feel stupid.

It's not me.  I'm nice.

I will tell you that you have spinach in your teeth.

I will come pick you up when you've had too much to drink.

I will help you pack when you move.

I will watch your kids.

I will give a hug when you need it.

I will never ask for anything in return.

I enjoy helping people.  It makes me happy.

I've had people make comments about my marriage- I can't possibly be THAT happy.  It's all a show...

Nope.  We have our moments.  We had a rough patch or two.  But yes, I do really adore my husband.

And my kids-- surely I must lose it with them and they aren't that great-- again, just a show.

Nope.  My kids are pretty darn great.  They behave.  They get good grades.  I rarely lose it with them because we have this whole mutual-respect thing going in our family.  I don't know if it will work for your family, but our family is happy. 

I even feel bad that it sometimes makes others feel less than.

My happiness makes me feel guilty.  That's how flipping nice I am.

Now, am I perfect?

Oh dear.  No.

I hate being overweight.  I wish I could balance my personal life a little better with my career.  I wonder if I should have made other choices.  I've made some fantastically huge mistakes in my life.

Not perfect. 

Just nice.

If you're down, I'll offer to help.

And I really, very sincerely don't expect a single thing in return.

I guess I don't expect anything because my friends have always been there for me when I needed them.  And it's probably because I am nice.

I'm not going to stab you in the back-- if I don't like you, I'll just ignore you if I can.  I won't even go to the effort of being mean.  I don't like everyone.  I'm not going to fake it.  Life is short.  You should be with people who do like you.

The world is full of mean people.

I don't ever want to be one of them.

I just had a mean girl experience very recently.  My husband even noticed it.  In fact, it bothered him more than me.  It was weird.  It was awkward.  I have no idea why this group of women felt the need to be so rude. Or exclusive. 

But they were.

And my guess is, it's because they think I'm somehow fake.  And it hurt.

I'm not fake.  I promise. 

I've had the same friends since I was 5.  They can attest that yes, I am that nice.

Perfect, no.  Nice, yes.

It's who I am.

And if it makes you uncomfortable, it's your issue, not mine.