I will assume
that anyone commenting on a followed blog, or a Facebook page, or a tweet, means
well. Almost all do. And let me tell you, sending thoughts out there and not
getting comments is a very lonely thing. So they are not only welcome but
wanted and appreciated.
But there are
the well-meaning ones that manage to be remarkably unhelpful. Remarkable
because they mean well. I’m not referring to the few that do not mean well, the
trolls, or the ones coming out of folks who just got bad news and think misery loves company is a social
commandment.
I have been the
unlucky recipient of two of the examples below. But most come from others,
friends and acquaintances, who either shared their pain with me or I was there
to witness it. Even as they said nothing in retort, it was painfully obvious
this was a backhanded compliment.
Examples:
“You never
age!”
“You’re a
miracle of preservation”
“How do you
manage to stay so young looking?”
Nice, but what they
really say, and in a public forum, (like commenting on new Facebook profile
picture) is that you are in fact old. Thanks.
“Nice haircut.
When will you grow your hair back?”
“I love what
you did with your hair. I’ll send you my stylist’s number. You’ll love her.”
“Looks great.
Is it Nice and Easy?”
Lovely, but what
they really say is that your hair has suffered a misfortune in incompetent hands.
“I loved, just
loved, your other book. When will you write another one like that one?”
“I got your
book a year ago!” (No other comment. Yup, that’s it.)
“Your book is
good for people interested in the subject.”
Sounds positive,
but what they are really saying is they can’t recommend it, and need to post a
public warning to that effect.
And then there
are these doozies. If you’ve ever been in the vicinity of such utterances, you
could feel the silent hissing:
“You look
wonderful! Are you pregnant?” (Never a good idea to say this, especially to a man.)
“We’ve got to
have you over. Maybe next May when our garden is blooming.” (Said in early June.)
“It’s nice
that you write for children. Have you thought of writing a book for real people?”
This last one is
one of only two that I actually received myself, and from my father. Ouch. Not
telling which of the others was also given to me.
Okay, good people.
Let’s not do any of that.