You Can’t Beat Cray
I have always been obsessed with having balls. Not the rubber kind that you play with outside, but cajones. I don’t know where it comes from. Maybe being a girl who got picked on a lot. Maybe always being the only black kid in class. Who knows. But for whatever reason, I have always needed to be just as tough, just as strong, just as able to eat anything, drink anything, do anything as everyone else. And I HATE being bested.
Okay fine, so maybe I’m just competitive. A little bit. That could be it.
This need to have the biggest balls in the room has led to some awesome things, but has also led to a serious reluctance to ever give in, when I’m wrong, yes, but ESPECIALLY when I’m right. No Buddhist am I. No great compromisers here. I’m right. You’re wrong. Get down on your knees and admit it and then I WILL CRUSH YOU. These are my fantasies.
Unfortunately, being an adult and being a professional means letting things go. It means sometimes letting people get away with being idiots, liars, or just wrong and not pointing it out. It means biting your tongue. And it means sometimes doing things that you don’t want to do because it will just make the problem go away.
But it’s soooo painful.
So now I’m at this point where I occasionally do things that may get a little press and attention. Which means I’m also at the point where I’m starting to attract negative attention as well. Especially from people I am trying to help. I was recently hit with one of the most laughable legal threats in history, and my first instinct was to pull out “lawyer me” and go balls out with my Olivia Pope-style revengy-ness. I wanted to crush this person until they couldn’t be crushed any more.
But then, reasonable me, who as suddenly popped out of the same hole that NPR-listening me and vegan me crawled out of (that whole being “I-just-turned-29-and-have-one-year-to-turn-my-life-around-before-I-die-and-slash-or-turn-30”) stopped me and made me rethink some things.
And here’s what I realized: People are cray. Not crazy. C-R-A-Y. Cray.
The whole world is populated by a lot of Fox News watching, Croc wearing, self-esteem lacking, insane clown posse pre-adolescent adults who don’t know their arse from their pigtails and have no idea how to get along in the real world. And there’s nothing I can do about it. Nothing. Cray people are going to be cray. Corrupt people are going to be corrupt. Assholes are damned well going to be assholes. And no matter what I do, how much I fight, or how much I may think I’m just standing up for myself, these people will remain cray. It’s like giving a zombie a glass of milk and thinking they’ll be okay in the morning. Nope. Still zombie.
So, in light of this, I’ve come to realize that acquiescing isn’t me being weak. It’s me having a life. It’s me saying “Alright cray. Put down the baseball bag, take your pills, and I’ll just do what you want and back away slowly”. Because you can’t beat cray. All you can do when you’re in a room with the cray is creep towards the door and get the hell out of there. They aren’t going to change. So you have to.
This realization has made my life so much easier. I no longer feel the need to be RIGHT. I just feel the need to live my life. And since the cray keeps coming, I need to get used to giving up the fight.