We're Doing That Here
Updated: Dec 11, 2019
In 2016, Glennon Doyle retold a story on Elizabeth Gilbert's podcast Magic Lessons . Doyle had been yearning for a spot to be completely honest, so she responded to Facebook post called 25 Things.
Here's something she shared:
I'm a recovering food and alcohol addict but I still find myself missing booze in the same twisted way we can miss those who repeatedly beat us and leave us for dead.
Upon discovering nearly 40 emails in her inbox and six missed calls from her sister, Doyle ends by saying, "What I think in my head, because it's what I think a million times a day is, 'Oh. We're not doing that here.'
I can soooo relate, for I often find myself on the end of shocked reactions that suggest oooohhhh, we're not doing that here.
One summer day at my sister's house, a cousin showed off her recent room remodel. On one image, my sister's friend Pam (not her real name) exclaimed, "Oh, my God. That purple paint is ugly!"
No one said anything, so when the steely-spined cousin put her phone away without a word, I told Pam she should stop being mean.
My sister snapped her head in my direction and may or may not have sharply said my name. I realized then that it would have been better for me to have waited after Pam left and then scathingly talk behind her back for what she said to the guest just like all God-fearing, self-respecting Southerners do.
That just ain't me.
It's hard to find someone like me, but I did on Black Friday.
I got in line at a department store with only two people ahead of me--a mother and daughter. The daughter asked the cashier how she was, letting us know how much she loved the holidays. The cashier divulged how much mayhem all the clerks endured the night before and how many people had to be escorted out for acting so crazy.
"To make matters worse," the cashier griped, "they make us wear these damn things. It's bullshit."
She pointed to her ridiculously brightly colored reindeer-horned headband and then shook her head.
I heard the mother/daughter intake of breath. The mother clicked her tongue.
I exclaimed to the cashier, "I love you," shameless in my exuberance at the clerk's honesty.
The mother finished making their purchases and huffed from the store, leaving the two daringly honest women alone to smile at the shared moment of "oh, we're doing this here."
It takes quite a bit of bravery to say an honest thing without any reason for saying it except that it's true. Honesty is about the person with whom you're communication, for if you respect the person you address in conversation, you'll be honest. Not brutal, just honest.
So, yeah, I sometimes step in steaming piles of faux pas, but it's a small tax to pay for being honest rather than hiding.
That's what I'm doing here.