Freaky Perfect

Warning: This post is long, and it does not have pretty pictures to break up the text. Although it is about relationships and human behavior in general, it is more specifically about blogging. Also, if this post had a subtitle, it would probably be “Advice for Bitches.” If any of this scares you, just click here for pleasant stuff.

My closest friends have been my closest friends for nearly my entire life. We didn’t choose each other. Fate thrust us together like a Dickens novel, and conspired to keep us in cahoots whether we liked it or not. And sometimes, we didn’t like it. There were times we hated each others’ guts, with a wild passion and undefined rage that only tween girls seem to possess. But despite internal strife, we’ve managed to stick it out for nearly 40 years, so that’s saying something. It’s saying we’re loyal, or understanding, or crazy, or stubborn. Not sure which. Probably all.

And like it or not, for 40 years we’ve been a clique, by definition.

A narrow exclusive circle or group of persons; especially one held together by common interests, views, or purposes. (from Merriam-Webster)

That definition seems fairly tame and straightforward, but we all know the word clique has a negative connotation. At times, my friends and I certainly lived up to that stereotype. We’ve had our own internal hierarchies. We’ve not been open to having new people join our group. We’ve excluded others, either knowingly or unknowingly. We’ve giggled over inside jokes in mixed company. We’ve never been the “mean girls” (that’s not any of our natures), but at the same time, we’ve turned our backs on outsiders and even each other, thereby limiting our experiences and world views.

That aspect of being in a clique has always been against my nature. I’m an explorer at heart. I want to try new things and meet new people. But there have been MANY times I’ve said to myself “I don’t want to try making new friends. I already have friends. I can’t be bothered.” Eek. I make myself cringe.

I’ve also suffered from consistently feeling like the outlier of the insiders. Although my circle of friends was usually always considered the most popular, I’ve always felt like I didn’t really belong. In school, I was a nerd. I didn’t have many boyfriends. There was something distinctly uncool and awkward about me. There were many, many times I thought the only reason those girls were my friends is because they had to be (that pesky Fate thing).

That feeling of inadequacy has been hard to deal with. I still suffer from it every day. I feel like the people I associate with only put up with me because they have to, not because they choose to. I’m tolerated, not embraced. I cringe when I see Instagram pics of my friends out and about, having fun without me. (If Instagram had been around when I was in high school, I would have been even more of an insecure mess than I already was.)

This inadequacy is my deal, my issue, my shit. I’m working on it, OK?

In a way, though, I’m thankful I’ve straddled the fence. I know how it feels to be the overlooked geek who doesn’t fit in. I also know how it feels to be in the cool crowd, to feel secure and accepted simply because I am sitting at the right table. It makes it easy for me to empathize with all kinds of people.

Why has this been on my mind? Because we’re heading into blogging conference season. Blogging, like any other hobby or industry, has cliques, and hierarchies, and superstars. So naturally, there’s a flip side, of outsiders and nobodies and D-listers. All this simmers under the surface when we’re hiding behind our computers, chatting on Twitter, commenting on each others’ blogs, maybe seeing each other at a random event here and there. We’re like an corporation comprised of nothing but remote workers. We don’t gather around the water cooler, or hash things out in meetings. Instead, we make passive-aggressive comments, write in third person, or gossip in private Facebook groups. Because we’re humans. This is what humans do. We rank, observe, comment, rinse and repeat.

We also, thankfully, try to comfort. We give sage advice and share our experiences on the front line. This is nice and incredibly helpful. There are dozens and dozens of excellent posts out there aimed at giving advice for people heading to these blogging conferences. What should I wear? Should I go to this party? Which session is best? How will I make friends? What if no one talks to me? All these questions have been answered, and answered well. Bloggers are very good at giving advice to the meek, the nervous, the newbies and the insecure.

I’ve got a couple of thoughts on this, though.

MOST OF THIS ADVICE IS CRAP.

WE’RE GIVING ADVICE TO THE WRONG PEOPLE.

So let’s tackle the first one. I’m going to break down some of that advice, and give you the truth.

• Just be yourself, and you’ll make friends! “Be yourself” is certainly good advice for everyone. But doing that won’t automatically win you some pals. This isn’t a carnival. If you knock over the balls and the milk jug, you’re not going not find yourself winning the grand prize (lunch with The Pioneer Woman!). You can be yourself all you want, but your self may suck. Or it might not be what the other conference-goers are looking for. Or people may be too blind to see your awesome. Whatever the reason, I don’t want you to think that being authentic is some kind of wonderful popularity talisman, because it isn’t.
  
• Show your true colors! This is kind of along the same lines as “be yourself.” The problem is, when most of us show our true colors in uncomfortable social situations, we tend to shine a little too bright. A witty person may turn into the class clown. An intelligent person may turn into a know-it-all. An outgoing person may turn into a naked table dancer. Our natural inclination in these settings is to turn up the volume, so we should consider intentionally turning it down a notch or two. When it comes to colors, pale pink is just as pretty as fuchsia.
• Don’t worry about not being able to make it to that conference — you aren’t missing anything, anyway. While most conferences are open to the public, they can still be exclusive. Some of them are very limited in size. Others are so expensive that, let’s face it, they seem designed to keep out the hoi polloi. I hate to be the one to break this to you, but here goes: If you can’t go to one of these, you are missing out. In the case of the small conferences, you’re missing out on some really great learning opportunities, intensive small-group sessions, and very personal networking. With the expensive conferences, you’re missing out on some great hotels, beautiful locations, fancy meals and parties, and time spent hobnobbing with the A-listers.
• Don’t worry about not being chosen for that conference — you’ll have another opportunity. Some conferences are by invitation only. One of the most well-known is the Disney Social Media Moms conference (it’s about to start, in fact). Here’s the deal: Being left out sucks. Anyone who denies that is a liar. Anyone who denies that and is also one of the chosen ones is a mean liar. Because if Disney chooses 300 people to attend their conference, it means they think at least 300 people are a better fit than you. Chances are, it’s not personal, because those doing the inviting might not even know you exist. But that still means you’re not on the radar. Being overlooked burns, no matter why it happens. Also, you may never be chosen. Disney may shut SMMs down before you get picked. Keep your fingers crossed all you want — you’ll still probably never be asked to attend that inspirational cool girl conclave at a California ashram. Don’t freak out, though. There’s always a bright side to being spurned, and I encourage you to find it. Just don’t act like the bright side is a numbing salve that takes away all the pain. Only time does that.
• Wear whatever makes you comfortable. I don’t know about you, but I’m most comfortable in nothing but a bra and ratty stretched-out t-shirt. I’m not about to wear that to a conference. I’m not even going to wear the “classy” version of my comfort wear (yoga pants and a cute hoody). Because like it or not, a blog conference is both a professional event and a fashion show. If you look like a slob, or wear mom jeans, or look like you got lost in Wet Seal back in 1992, people are going to talk about you. Maybe you couldn’t care less (bravo for you!), but don’t believe anyone who tells you what you wear doesn’t matter. Because it does, to some people.
• Those women you admire are just as insecure as you are. Bullshit. They are prettier than you. They are richer than you. They have more readers than you. They are better networked than you. They are better dressed than you. They are more genteel than you. And they know it. They appear cool and confident because, well, they are. They constantly post selfies, pictures of their gorgeous home, and snaps of their fancy meals at trendy restaurants because they’re proud of the way those things look. Yes, of course, they have problems. They may be worried about their kid’s behavior or stressed about their mortgage or embarrassed about their toenail fungus. But overall, these women are not miserably insecure or uncomfortable in their own skin. They’re content, and it shows. Don’t hate them. Take a lesson from them.
• Just keep doing what you’re doing. One day you’ll be noticed and gain respect. Um, yeah, probably not. The majority of us will never gain fame or fortune as a blogger, writer, product reviewer, or whatever it is we’re doing. The Internet is too big, the odds too much of a long shot. You can be the best blogger EVAH and still forever toil away in obscurity, with only your mom and a few hardcore fans commenting on your posts. Keep doing what you’re doing because you like doing it, and for no other reason.

So there’s my correction of some of the crap advice. But remember, I also said we’re giving advice to the wrong people. We give plenty of column space over to telling others how they should change/act/think/be in order to fit in, but we spend very little time telling the popular crowd what they should do to be more accepting and kind. Look, I get it. We can’t change other people, we can only change ourselves. That’s Therapy 101. But just because we can’t make other people change doesn’t mean we can’t tell them why we think they should change. We shouldn’t reserve all our critiques for the victims without also reprimanding the perpetrators. So here goes my advice for some of the clique offenders I’ve seen at conferences. (If you see yourself in some of these descriptions, and it makes you squirm, don’t get mad. You’re awesome for recognizing it and maybe even being willing to do something about it. We all have our deficits, and as far as deficits go, these are fairly tame.)

• The speakers. I’ve been a speaker at many conferences, and it’s an incredible experience. But being a speaker does not mean you are a master, a visionary, a guru, or a celebrity. It simply means you were chosen to fill a slot. Don’t get a big head over it. And don’t forget noblesse oblige. As a speaker, you have a responsibility to the conference organizer. You are representing that person or group, so do it well. You are there to impart knowledge and make attendees feel as if their dollars and time were well-spent. So talk to people. Be friendly. Answer questions, even in the bathroom. Participate in conversations. Don’t be stuck up or stand-offish. If the famous person who’s there to represent a cause or give the keynote is being more open, friendly and approachable than you are, you’re doing it wrong.
• The in-and-outters. This is typically a subset of the speakers. They arrive at a conference just before their session, then leave later that night or early the next morning. It’s as if they don’t even acknowledge there’s a conference or major event happening all around them. If someone has a conflicting commitment or is in a time crunch, then it’s perfectly understandable they might have to leave early. But don’t scoot in and out as quickly as possible simply because you can’t be bothered to get your hands dirty with the masses, or because you think the conference has nothing to offer you. Stick around. Chances are, you’ll be pleasantly surprised.
• The veterans. These ladies live-blogged the signing of the Declaration of Independence, and by golly, they want you to know it. Their catchphrases include “Things were SO MUCH BETTER back when we started blogging” and “I remember when I transferred everything from my Listserv to a LiveJournal account!” There aren’t a lot of these bloggers out there, so they tend to stick together. Like my group of friends, they’ve known each other so long, they find it difficult to let anyone else breach the defenses of their inner circle. If you’re a veteran, branch out. Read some new blogs. Listen to some new voices. Promote other bloggers. You’ve got a wealth of experience, so consider using it to mentor a blogger just starting out and/or someone in the midst of her writing career.
• The above-it-alls. These people have never given more than a passing glance to an online controversy. They’ve never left a sharply-worded comment or tweeted a link to a contentious article. They save their opinions for important topics, like apple pie versus apple crumble. Ask them to weigh in on full feed versus partial feed, and they’ll wonder why we can’t all just get along. And heaven forbid they partake in gossip! If this is you, then listen up, Pollyanna: It’s OK to be human. It’s fine to feel strongly about something and take a stand for what you believe in. Sometimes, we have to take sides. And each time you turn up your nose at someone who does, judgment comes dripping out of it like a toddler’s snot. I’m not saying you should start a trolling site (the last thing the Internet needs is more bile and hate). I’m simply saying you don’t have to perfect and unsullied all the time. Let it out, girlfriend. Everyone will feel much more confortable around you if you do.
• The number gamers. These people are always eager to give you a media kit. They’re disappointed when conference badges only display names and urls, because they really want their number of Twitter followers featured prominently. (Do not think I’m exaggerating. I once met someone who wrote her stats on her badge so everyone could get a “true picture” of who she really was.) It’s often hard to spot these people at conference sessions, because they aren’t there. Instead, they’re in the exhibition hall, schmoozing brands and auditioning for ambassador roles. Work it, girl! I understand that blogging is a straight-up business for many people. It puts money in the bank, food on the table, and vacation memories in the scrapbook. I applaud that. But your self-worth should not be determined by how many people comment on your giveaway posts or download your printables. Back away from the brands, babe, and spend some time with bloggers who haven’t glanced at their analytics in a couple of years. You’ll find it refreshing and inspiring to network with people who blog and attend conferences just for the fun of it.
• The well-intendeds. These people are tricky. They are usually well-known bloggers who seem very kind and helpful, because they are kind and helpful. They give seemingly well-intentioned advice, but there’s something a little “off” about it. For example, I once heard a big blogger give a talk in which she complained about how fake and annoying all the “Best Of” blog lists and voting contests are. She went on and on about how that type of attention doesn’t really matter. The catch? She’s on almost every one of those lists. Those lists, and the free publicity and attention she gets from those type of things, are why she is such a big blogger. Listening to a popular person tell you why being popular doesn’t matter is like listening to a skinny girl tell you why shouldn’t worry about being fat. It’s freaking annoying. If you are a big blogger, and you are a helpful person who wants to give advice, be honest. Tell the truth about how you got to where you are. Did you really get a book deal because you were “discovered” by an agent, or did you send 100 queries and receive 99 rejections? We don’t care, we just want to know the truth! We appreciate your sharing and mentoring, but show us some respect and give it to us straight.
• The intelligentsia. When is a sidebar not just a sidebar? When it’s a dissertation on post-modern consumer habits, with uncluttered sidebars being a reflection of Plato’s ideal Forms. Or something like that. For the intelligentsia, every blog post is a mini literary work. When writing one, the task should be treated with great import, and one must consider how it will be received by future generations. Also, when reading posts, one must critique style, tone, grammar and structure. Lest you think all those in this category are English majors (raising my hand, guilty as charged), I will also direct you to those who gather in a room after a session to parse every word the speaker said. They will spend an afternoon debating WordPress versus Blogger. A discussion on choosing affiliate programs is monumental and should be treated with the same gravity as a speech on the Senate floor. The intelligentsia were nerds in school, and nothing gets them more excited than an in-depth, erudite conversation. But this kind of talk can be off-putting to others. Talking about how hot Johnny Depp is or what’s on sale at the mall won’t make you stupid. It will make you normal. So grab a glass of wine, jump into an inane conversation, and get silly. It’s good to give your brain a break sometimes.
• The personality disorders. These are the people who aren’t social at social functions because they JUST. CAN’T. HANDLE. the pressure. You’ll find them hiding in their hotel room or balled up in a fetal position in the cloak room, blogging and tweeting from their phone about how they can’t take it anymore and they just had to escape and it’s just so dramatic and OMG PLEASE COMMENT AND TELL ME I’LL BE OK. Alright, alright, I’ll cut you some slack, because I can relate. I do not feel good in crowds. I am an introvert who would often rather spend time in my room, by myself, with a book. I’m not making light of true mental illness, because I know firsthand how crippling depression, anxiety, and other disorders can be. But let’s face it — too many people use their nerves or personalities as an excuse to withdraw. If this is you, take a Xanax and get the hell over yourself already. Don’t let what you think you are (shy, anxious, claustrophobic) stand in the way of what you could be. Force yourself into an uncomfortable position, and then see how long you can hold it. Do it in baby steps, and you’ll eventually become more flexible.
• The outsiders. Yeah, I mean you. You, the person reading this, nodding your head because you totally get it and you take pride in being on the fringe and you wear your D-list status like a badge dripping with self-deprecation. You were a goth in high school, weren’t you? Yeah you were, you little alt-indie cutie, you! You don’t want to try too hard, and I get that. Trying can lead to failure, and failure sucks. But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try at all. It’s OK to reach out to the cool kids, and maybe try to enter their world. Because if you stay isolated, you’re just as closed-minded as you accuse them of being. Try this for me: Before your next conference, think of a blogger who will also be attending, who you really admire, but who you think wouldn’t give you the time of day. Contact that person, and let her know you’ll also be there. Tell her you’re looking forward to meeting her. Then when you’re there, actually go up to her and introduce yourself. She may be a rude bitch, and if so, you can congratulate yourself on your keen discernment. She may, however, become your new best friend. Now wouldn’t THAT be something?

Hoo boy, that was cleansing.

Yes, I realize the inherent irony in a post like this. The “popular people” in the world of blogging do not know I exist, and they certainly don’t read my blog, so the chances of their seeing this advice is pretty much nil. However, if they do somehow stumble across this post, they’ll be so turned off that I will remain an off-the-radar nobody for the rest of eternity, or at least until I graduate from high school or something. (I’m so screwed. I’m going to have to watch The Breakfast Club to cheer myself up.)

I’m sure I come off sounding like Bitchy McBitcherson with this post, what with all the name-calling and finger-pointing. I’m sorry, I really am. I just get fired up when I feel passionately about something. And I feel passionately about everyone just getting along.

I wish I could share my dear, wonderful childhood friends with all y’all, but they’re busy girls and not always willing to travel. Instead, I’m just hoping I can share some of the lessons I’ve learned from a lifetime with them.

Like the lesson that meeting new people can be fun. Friendships should be easy, not difficult. True companionship means not having to show off, use perfect manners, or even talk. And there is nothing, nothing in this world better than finding people who love you simply because you are, not because of what you think you should be.