I’m a polite person, for all intents and purposes. I’m respectful. Diplomacy is my middle name. And as the old folks say, I have home-training.
But I also have a limit.
As a largely passive person, particularly of the female sex, who’s been painstakingly prepped in politeness, I’ve been taught to respond to people and plans that I don’t want to be bothered with with a fraudulent smile and a forced soft voice that voices the words:
“No, thank you.”
(Actually, I was taught to do what I don’t want to do for the sake of “politeness,” “rightness” and any other -ness mess that means me sacrificing my authentic self for the artifices of others…but that’s another blog post.)
This blog post, however, just says no.
Just like the anti-drugs anthem that rang repeatedly in my elementary school-age eardrums, this blog post’s theme does not expound or expand beyond those two letters. Those two letters that, until today, I thought needed the polite company of “thank” and “you” in order to be permissible. Those two letters that, until today, I’ve been too petrified to just let stand on their own.
Ah, but today is a new day, and I’ve been taught a new lesson.
(Actually, it’s an old lesson that I was taught in elementary school.)
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