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More comments I've left elsewhere:
This was addressed to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
gramina, in a conversation about drama in wild_irises's journal:
Yes, that's a lot of it: the difference between being in pain and wanting sympathy, and maybe help--a listening ear, a pot of tea, someone to take you to a movie or the zoo as distraction--and expecting that the person helping will both agree with your evaluation of the situation and be upset by it more personally than "my friend is in pain, I want to help."
For example: if your good friend has just lost a close relative, they're in pain. You may also be, depending on the circumstances: but when said friend is someone I have never been close to, nor seen in years, the friend-of-a-friendness is enough for me to understand that you're sad and under stress, but not enough that I'm going to be crying. To clarify: a death in the family is a clear example of event/drama that people do not seek out or create, and I'm not going to say that anyone is handling their grief wrong. The distinction I'm drawing is that if I care about someone, I'll help them, listen to them, attend their family funerals if they so desire. But that doesn't automatically extend to their close friends and their losses.
Icons again:rain_luong noted that he is less likely to be argumentative with someone whose LJ icon is a picture of their face:
Several of my icons--including the default--have pictures of my face (though one is on a London Underground Travelcard). I also have one of my left bicep (a tattoo picture), and a bunch of things like train cars, road signs, crocuses.
But yes, there's a stronger sense of contact with a face. I wonder if there are people who are more likely to argue when they have a sense of "yes, this is so-and-so". And whether what the person looks like--age, gender, skin color, visible scars, etc.--makes a difference to the effect in either direction. I'm sure there are idiosyncratic reactions: sooner or later, I'll remind someone of their hated older sister/ex-lover/parent, or someone else of their much-beloved friend, and get spillover reactions from that. But I'm wondering about more general things.
What's weird is the icons that are of someone other than the user's face, especially when it's not obvious to me who. (A friend-of-a-friend's icon is Father Mulcahy from M*A*S*H, which I recognized immediately; someone else I know has an icon of an actress I didn't recognize, and didn't know the name of when told. That's disconcerting.)
In response tocakmpls, talking about trust and that she will say she trusts someone in a specific context/area:
The combination I'm most likely to use if I say "trust" without specifying is that I do (or don't) trust someone to keep their word, which includes not lying to me and keeping promises, large or small, that they make. And that can include a certain amount of self-evaluation: that they won't ask to borrow money if they already owe significant amounts to half our friends, and that someone who knows they aren't good at keeping secrets will say so if asked.
elynne asked what sort of answers are appropriate to a stranger who, seeing you not smiling, says "Cheer up! It can't be that bad."
I'm not convinced the intentions are good: this is a stranger who is so upset by looking at an unhappy face that, rather than just go on with their life or look away, they intrude on you. They're demanding that you, while unhappy, take time to concern yourself with them, and make the effort to smile 100 percent of the time, even when just walking down the street or waiting for a train.
If, rather than grieving, you're thinking, they're interrupting your thoughts--which might be important. I'd say "Yes it can be that bad" or "It wasn't, until you interrupted me while I was thinking about something important" are entirely reasonable reactions. And no, you don't owe such intrusive strangers the truth: "I just found out my father died" or the like, if not true, might make this person pause next time, when maybe the innocent they would accost has just lost a loved one.
And then, in response topotlan, who in that discussion said
We're not punishing happy people: they're welcome to go on and be happy, and do happy things. Nobody is suggesting that you, or anyone, go up to a stranger and say "Frown! It can't be that good." or "What are you smiling about?"
We're trying to stop random strangers from assuming that they have a right to get me to pretend to be happy. Because "Smile, it can't be that bad" does not spread happiness. It may interrupt a train of thought that, if completed, would help me be happier.
Unless you're prepared to actually help that random stranger solve their problems--whether that's brainstorming about an interpersonal issue or buying them some groceries, because the "it" that "can't be that bad" might be three children and an empty pantry--that sort of remark is stunningly inappropriate. And sometimes the last thing someone needs is to have a stranger intrude on their grief: Judith Martin (Miss Manners) recounts having been stuck on an airplane next to one of those "Smile, it can't be that bad" people, while she was in fact traveling to a relative's funeral.
If you want to start a conversation, smiling and saying "Good afternoon" or "What a lovely day" is a fine remark, and doesn't start by judging the other person's mental state.
This was addressed to
gramina, in a conversation about drama in wild_irises's journal:Yes, that's a lot of it: the difference between being in pain and wanting sympathy, and maybe help--a listening ear, a pot of tea, someone to take you to a movie or the zoo as distraction--and expecting that the person helping will both agree with your evaluation of the situation and be upset by it more personally than "my friend is in pain, I want to help."
For example: if your good friend has just lost a close relative, they're in pain. You may also be, depending on the circumstances: but when said friend is someone I have never been close to, nor seen in years, the friend-of-a-friendness is enough for me to understand that you're sad and under stress, but not enough that I'm going to be crying. To clarify: a death in the family is a clear example of event/drama that people do not seek out or create, and I'm not going to say that anyone is handling their grief wrong. The distinction I'm drawing is that if I care about someone, I'll help them, listen to them, attend their family funerals if they so desire. But that doesn't automatically extend to their close friends and their losses.
Icons again:
rain_luong noted that he is less likely to be argumentative with someone whose LJ icon is a picture of their face:Several of my icons--including the default--have pictures of my face (though one is on a London Underground Travelcard). I also have one of my left bicep (a tattoo picture), and a bunch of things like train cars, road signs, crocuses.
But yes, there's a stronger sense of contact with a face. I wonder if there are people who are more likely to argue when they have a sense of "yes, this is so-and-so". And whether what the person looks like--age, gender, skin color, visible scars, etc.--makes a difference to the effect in either direction. I'm sure there are idiosyncratic reactions: sooner or later, I'll remind someone of their hated older sister/ex-lover/parent, or someone else of their much-beloved friend, and get spillover reactions from that. But I'm wondering about more general things.
What's weird is the icons that are of someone other than the user's face, especially when it's not obvious to me who. (A friend-of-a-friend's icon is Father Mulcahy from M*A*S*H, which I recognized immediately; someone else I know has an icon of an actress I didn't recognize, and didn't know the name of when told. That's disconcerting.)
In response to
cakmpls, talking about trust and that she will say she trusts someone in a specific context/area:The combination I'm most likely to use if I say "trust" without specifying is that I do (or don't) trust someone to keep their word, which includes not lying to me and keeping promises, large or small, that they make. And that can include a certain amount of self-evaluation: that they won't ask to borrow money if they already owe significant amounts to half our friends, and that someone who knows they aren't good at keeping secrets will say so if asked.
elynne asked what sort of answers are appropriate to a stranger who, seeing you not smiling, says "Cheer up! It can't be that bad."I'm not convinced the intentions are good: this is a stranger who is so upset by looking at an unhappy face that, rather than just go on with their life or look away, they intrude on you. They're demanding that you, while unhappy, take time to concern yourself with them, and make the effort to smile 100 percent of the time, even when just walking down the street or waiting for a train.
If, rather than grieving, you're thinking, they're interrupting your thoughts--which might be important. I'd say "Yes it can be that bad" or "It wasn't, until you interrupted me while I was thinking about something important" are entirely reasonable reactions. And no, you don't owe such intrusive strangers the truth: "I just found out my father died" or the like, if not true, might make this person pause next time, when maybe the innocent they would accost has just lost a loved one.
And then, in response to
potlan, who in that discussion said It may seem infuriatingly inappropriate, but this person sees that you're upset. Maybe they don't have many problems with your life. Or maybe they might want to start a conversation. Why punish happy people? I find the idea of doing that kinda sickening. Frankly I think we need a lot more happy people in this world.I wrote:
We're not punishing happy people: they're welcome to go on and be happy, and do happy things. Nobody is suggesting that you, or anyone, go up to a stranger and say "Frown! It can't be that good." or "What are you smiling about?"
We're trying to stop random strangers from assuming that they have a right to get me to pretend to be happy. Because "Smile, it can't be that bad" does not spread happiness. It may interrupt a train of thought that, if completed, would help me be happier.
Unless you're prepared to actually help that random stranger solve their problems--whether that's brainstorming about an interpersonal issue or buying them some groceries, because the "it" that "can't be that bad" might be three children and an empty pantry--that sort of remark is stunningly inappropriate. And sometimes the last thing someone needs is to have a stranger intrude on their grief: Judith Martin (Miss Manners) recounts having been stuck on an airplane next to one of those "Smile, it can't be that bad" people, while she was in fact traveling to a relative's funeral.
If you want to start a conversation, smiling and saying "Good afternoon" or "What a lovely day" is a fine remark, and doesn't start by judging the other person's mental state.
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