There are very few things that bring me pleasure in life. Sometimes pleasures and priorities go hand in hand. As many of my readers know, I’m on a journey to grow my black lipstick collection. If you didn’t know, please check out my August article from my blog for context. It’s up there on my list of priorities along with finishing the second installment of Twice The Demise. The pleasure of wearing a dark shade of lipstick with minimal to no transfer is next to none. However, one of my latest meetings was anything but pleasurable. An acquaintance had asked me about the brand of lipstick I was wearing. Once I divulged the brand name, this lady went on a rant dressing me down. My colleagues were very confused about this exchange. It was obvious that the lady had a moral superiority complex. She started pulling articles and deviating everyone’s attention to her performative activism. I kept a straight face as there were witnesses.
I redirected the meeting to what was on the roster. I didn’t want to engage with her because it would have been futile. She was disrespectful and I knew better. Individuals who mistreat you are unlikely to change their behavior for the better even if you put in the effort. We continued on with the meeting and I made believe she didn’t exist. I received an insincere apology email a week later. I didn’t respond. Why engage with someone whose platform relies heavily on performative allyship. I say this because I know who she is in real life. She called me once after that to meet up for coffee to apologize. The head of our project dropped her, and she lost a business contract. The damage was done. She dug her own hole without me uttering a single word in retaliation. My disdainful silence was the answer.
How far have we gone as a society?
How are we supposed to survive as a
collective when everything is a
performance? Have we reached a point where we cannot be ourselves? Have we confused candor with inappropriateness? Why have we become so comfortable with telling people what to do? Last time I checked we weren’t a monolith. Performative actions are shoved in our faces every day like bad body odor. For the love of God, please use some aluminum! Your armpits could produce yeast for gluten-free baking for the next decade. Not to forget that the internet has made people so much bolder. You don’t agree with a person? Let’s dox them! For the nincompoops out there: Doxing could contribute to another criminal offense like harassment, stalking, intimidation, identity theft, or incitement to violence. Think about it the next time you want to share unconcealed screenshots whilst on your rage train online. You’re only building a case against yourselves. Believe me, I see it all the time. I just sit back and sip my coffee when people get served. What keeps most people being decent is accountability, which many people think they won’t face at some point.
Social media really exposes how terrible some people’s mindsets can be. Again, who are we performing for? How much validation does one need to feed their superiority complex? Performative relationships are at an all-time high. One partner cannot stay faithful for five minutes leaving the other partner to use their social media as a Pinterest board. There are so many forms of these performative “arts” like performative parenting and cleaning. Your kids aren’t accessories for income, and no one’s home looks that sterile. Can we please go back to having some form of etiquette? All that rage and anger just makes people look ugly. Let’s leave the excremental behavior for the restroom.