I am sick and tired of people who pass judgement and compare bloggers to other ones.
Things like” Stop being so whimsical or magical”, “You are trying too hard to be this magical girl”, “stop trying to be like [insert famous blogger of your choice], it’s not working” “you’re so fake” etc. etc. etc.
It’s ridiculous. You don’t like it, don’t read it. It’s simple. People express themselves in all kinds of ways. A blog is not a perfect representation of a person, it’s just a tiny window into parts of their personality and being, so unless you know this person in real life well (or by private correspondence), there is no way for you to truly know that person well enough to pass such judgment.
Furthermore, being and finding oneself is a process. We experiment, we try out new things, we find passions just to let them go a few months later. We change. We make new discoveries, sometimes on our own, sometimes through somebody else (or a blog for example). It’s normal. It’s call growing up, and being human, and wanting to find out who you are (and most often, when you’ve finally found out, you find yourself already changing again). We are not stones.
I’ve seen three different messages this morning to people I like and admire and it pisses me off to no end. If you don’t like someone’s blog, don’t read it. Don’t pretend you want to give some advice, it’s just insulting. Some people will be similar and this is the internet, these people will therefore be attracted to each other and share similar interests. That does not mean they are copying each other, or aspiring to be like somebody else. And if they are, it’s still none of your business. To each its own process.
I could scream right now.
EDIT: Equally ridiculous are the messages congratulating a blogger for NOT being so whimsical/magical/a unicorn or something. Usually sent to the same people who receives the kind of messages mentioned at the beginning of this post. It’s equally obnoxious and judgmental.
Un Lac (2008) dir. Philippe Grandrieux
Bare legs and
smooth round breasts.
The water sparkled
with drowned moonlight.
We were meant to
own the night.
craving winter deep down in my bones. darkness at five o’clock, hot cocoa by the fire, wool tights, leather satchels, bare trees, overcast days, snow storms, winter woods, thick mittens, long hair, and apple pie.
Oh yes. xx