yall are too fucking suspicious of joy for me
Nurse! she’s out again…
but naw, I got something else to say, and like always, I’m pretty sure a lot of y’all have already thought it. I’m just gonna be the one to say that shit out loud. I posted on Threads yesterday about happiness and felt I needed to expand on it, so here we go. I don't know when the switch happened, but somewhere along the way, people have become weirdly committed to believing happiness is fake. Like they genuinely have a hard time believing that some people are just...happy. Enjoying their fucking lives. Having a good ass time. Not living a facade, not doing shit for social media posts, stories, or shares, and not secretly miserable the second they put their phone down. Some people genuinely like the lives they’re living, and have cultivated, but somehow that has become harder for people to believe than misery. but i think i know why. relaxx, im finna’ tell you.
First off, when the fuck did visible happiness become suspicious? You post too many vacations and all of a sudden you're trying to prove something. Start celebrating yourself, big or small, a little too often, and now you need validation. Post your relationship and here come the relationship evangelists reminding everybody that “the happiest couples don't post each other.” Hell, don't even get me started on single people actually enjoying being very fucking single, dating, meeting people and having fun with their lives. Here come the folks telling them self-love isn't real love, they're secretly lonely, or whatever dumb ass bullshit we're saying this week, because apparently nobody could possibly enjoy a life that doesn't look like the one you think they should want. And God forbid somebody goes to a random ass happy hour on a Wednesday. Now they're “filling an emotional ass void.” Damn. Maybe the bitch wanted a margarita and some half-priced oysters. Why does everything have to be a cry for help?
What’s funny is how easily we believe misery, or that everybody is secretly miserable. And listen, I know we’re on a floating rock with plenty of shit to be unhappy about, including the awful being in the White House that I can’t even bring myself to call human. But somehow, some people are still managing to live pocket-full-of-sunshine-ass lives despite it all. But let somebody post about being exhausted, heartbroken, broke, lonely, or completely over dating, and nobody questions that shit or bats a fucking eye. Quick to give you prayers hands for sadness, but not hearts for happiness. losersssss. It’s because struggle feels believable, and for some, more relatable. But let somebody consistently show joy and suddenly everybody has a doctorate in psychology. She’s overcompensating. He’s miserable behind closed doors. They only do it for social media. “People only post the highlights.”
Well, no shit, Detective Benson. They’re called highlights for a fucking reason.
What people seem to forget is that you have absolutely no idea how hard somebody had to fight to get to the happiness and joy they're choosing to share with cho’ ass. You see the birthday dinners, the vacations, the flowers, the friends, the new house, the promotion, the relationship, the random Tuesday where they got dressed up and went somewhere nice just because they fucking felt like it. What you don't see are all the versions of them that had to survive long enough to get there. Alot of people don't know what it cost them to become somebody who fucking celebrates themselves. You don't know how many birthdays they may have cried through before they started making a big fucking deal about their own. You don't know how many years they couldn't afford the trip, how many relationships made them question their worth, how many friendships broke their fucking heart, how many times they had to start over, or how many nights they prayed for a life that felt even remotely like the one they're living now.
That's the part a picture can't tell you. Andddd even without the background of bad moments turned good- nobody should have to explain their joy, nor should you feel entitled to question why they have it. You're in love with the rhythm of their life, but I can guarantee you that you may not have been able to survive any of their blues to get it.
And honestly, that's why I hate when people are so quick to reduce someone else's happiness to a fucking facade. It’s a fucking insult to discredit favor or tenacity over somebody's life just because you can't see it in your own. You are judging the celebration without knowing the fucking testimony. You're looking at somebody enjoying the harvest and deciding it must be fake because you weren't around when they were planting shit with tears in their eyes praying that fruit will grow..
The happiness you're seeing doesn't mean their life is perfect either. They still have them high ass bills. high ass gas prices, daily ass food recalls, traumas they fighting through, i mean the damn list goes on. They still have shitty days. They still get disappointed, overwhelmed, irritated, heartbroken and tired. They still want to bend people's fingers back sometimes and, unfortunately, cannot. Happiness was never proof that nothing bad happens to you. Sometimes happiness is just what happens when you've been through enough shit to stop letting every bad thing convince you that your ENTIRE life is bad.
And yesssss, sometimes jealousy and envy ARE sitting right underneath all that skepticism. And that’s what people I think don’t want to admit, cause who wants to be a jealous hoe? And it doesn't always sound like the obvious “I want what she has” either. Sometimes envy does sounds like criticism. Sometimes it sounds like “she's doing too much” or “they can't possibly be that happy.” Sometimes it's searching for a crack in somebody else's life because believing their joy is real might force you to sit with whatever the fuck their happiness brings up in you.
And what exactly is that happiness in your life? Well, apparently that's an answer we did NOT find out on last week's episode of Dragon Ball Z.
The truth of the matter is the lenses through which you see other people’s happiness have nothing to do with them and everything to do with yo’ ass.
Because maybe the question isn't why someone needs everybody to think they're happy. Maybe the better question is why you need so badly to believe they're not. The vacation really could have been amazing. They really could be in fucking love. She really could enjoy buying herself flowers. That birthday really could have been one of the best nights of their life. And yes, she probably took 47 pictures before choosing the one you saw because let's not get fucking ridiculous here. who caresss.
Ima’ end it here befo’ i get mad, but you don't know what somebody survived before you met the version of them that laughs louder, travels more, celebrates everything and orders champagne just because it's Thursday. You weren't there for every blue note, so maybe stop assuming the rhythm you're hearing now is fake.
Some people really are fucking happy. And you can be too.
xoxo
Sho