Marika Malaea

faithful marauder + fake royal

Drowning Your Expectations

with 20 comments

Maybe here.

Maybe here.

I really hate how people I’ve known forever act like I haven’t changed in years – like I’m a predictable carbon copy of my troubled, 21-year old self.   It must be really convenient for people to compartmentalize me as Party Girl, Starving Artist, College Dropout, Troubled Teen, Irresponsible Parent – these are all titles I’ve earned at one point or another, but I hate being stuck there in other people’s minds; I won’t say I’ve changed completely, but I’ve certainly made better choices and grown from those experiences.  Do those people prefer me that way?  Is it easier for them if I’m always struggling?  I’ve even said, faux-brightly,  “Well, I’m not really like that anymore, but I sure remember what you’re talking about from nine fucking years ago.”  And the response I get is YEAAAAAAAH RIIIIIIIIGHT, YOU WENT TO BED AT 9PM, LOL LOL LOL.

Look, I know it’s more exciting when I’m snorting coke off a hooker’s ass in Guatemala, but that’s not me anymore.  I know it’s more interesting for you when I’m a hot fucking mess, but providing hilarious anecdotes for your social gatherings is not my job anymore; lead your *own* exciting life, and make your own stupid anecdotes.  I 0nce overheard someone telling an unfortunate homewrecking story involving me and the home I wrecked – in present tense – as though it happened yesterday, and not when I was nineteen.  That’s not something I would participate in today, and yet I know people who would go NUDGE NUDGE WINK WINK THAT’S JUST HER STYLE, and then high-five like meathead assholes.

This applies to *who* I am today.  People from my past think I’m joking when I say I’m baking – I’m organizing my linen closet – I’m a volunteer tutor – I love my community – I just want to stay in and hang at home – I’m trying to save money  – I’m cooking dinner – I’m walking at Green Lake – I’m line-dancing – I’m spending the weekend with my kiddo – I’m voting/doing my taxes/[enter responsible-sounding thing here].  The enjoyable things that make up my life now don’t fit in with this image people have of me, so the responses I get from others – a tone of total disbelief – is fairly hurtful.   What, I wasn’t allowed to change or find other interests in the last ten fucking years?  Or the last TWO?  I have to be an entertaining, one-trick pony to suit your needs?

Case in point:  to have my son for the weekend is quite possibly the biggest joy I can imagine, so hearing someone say ‘I can’t even believe that you’re, like, a parent – I hope he survives!” is like a knife in the eye.  It’s not the words, it’s the tone that drives me crazy – really, you had your son here for the whole weekend and HE DIDN’T DIE?!  YOU KEPT YOURSELF FROM EATING HIM?!  Yeah, look at my restraint:  I didn’t eat him, and I’m also not driving to your family home and drowning all of your relatives (OR AM I) – marvel at my control!  I’m almost like a real live human!   With feelings and everything!  I know I’m not the best parent, but I’m certainly getting better – and anyone who has a negative opinion on that (especially when they don’t have any children of their own – screw your pets!) can SUCK. MY. COCK.

If I get comments that sound anything like ‘Who cares about other people? As long as you love yourself, nothing else matters!’ I will seriously jump off a bridge.  I know.  I understand.  Other people don’t matter, find strength within yourself, LIVE YOUR BEST LIFE (voooooooooomiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit) and blah blah blah – but I’m talking about people who are disappointing the shit out of me with their words and their actions.  There’s nothing wrong with wanting friends who like me as I am, instead of catering to the preconceived ideas others might have of me, no matter how long we’ve been friends.  I don’t need to waste another minute on people who have no interest in knowing me NOW.  My mother is the exception, because it really is a change for her to see me organizing or showing interest in healthier things (thanks for the Valentines Day blender!).  But if you knew me Way Back When, how well do you know me now?  I’m pretty sure you don’t.


Written by sn0tteh

February 19, 2009 at 7:06 PM

Posted in Uncategorized

20 Responses

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  1. Woah, wait. Did you really get a hooker in Guatemala?! Dang, I’ve always wanted to go to Guatemala. 😉

    You make me smile.

    I am not going to get all Joel Osteen on you or anything, don’t worry. I would rather stab him in his overly large, white teeth. I’m just glad I know you as the person you are today, and not who you might’ve been a decade ago.

  2. She wasn’t a hooker – she was a lady of the evening.

    Thanks, Carrie 🙂


    February 20, 2009 at 12:53 AM

  3. that hooker story sound cool, but really people always remember you for your worst and not your best, it’s hard to forget something to eccentric.


    February 20, 2009 at 6:05 AM

  4. Think it works out awesome for me for I have only known you recently. There is no other person to compare too. I find that refreshing as a fellow person who is always trying to escape the pigeonholes of my past as well.


    February 20, 2009 at 6:27 AM

  5. OK, how about forget the “live yr best life” bull and just on to “fuck they couch nikka”?

    Where were you in Guatemala? I stayed a week in Flores and a few days in Tikal; I know that there’s Guatemala City or something, but I didn’t know that anyone other than my freak-ass former archaeology student boyfriend found any interest in the place.

    konichiwa, bitches.

    February 20, 2009 at 11:06 AM

  6. That didn’t happen (in Guatemala). I’ve never been. But it certainly did happen, once upon a time.


    February 20, 2009 at 4:45 PM

  7. Pigeonhole is a good term for it. Glad to have a fellow freak to escape with, too.


    February 20, 2009 at 4:46 PM

  8. That makes sense – I *do* feel like all of my worst stories are probably the best, but at some point I’ll be 54 and going, haven’t I done anything amusing *since* then? Why are we telling the same stories thirty years later??? 🙂


    February 20, 2009 at 4:47 PM

  9. “Pigeonhole is a good term for it.”


    That’s not what she said!


    February 20, 2009 at 5:04 PM

  10. It has always been my personal rule to leave behind the relationships in my life that no longer serve me as a growing, changing, living, learning, human being. I would rather spend my energy on a few people who really get me and want to see me succeed than on a bunch of people (or even one) who needs to feel superior to me, or create constant drama and negativity. Perhaps that’s boring, but I get a lot of satisfaction out of reciprocal positivity and love. In short, Marika, you rock. Lose them zeros and get yourself some heroes! End hippy rant.


    February 20, 2009 at 5:44 PM

  11. Rick, you seriously kill me.


    February 20, 2009 at 9:17 PM

  12. Thanks, Wendy – the zeros in my life are slowly fading to black – glad that you’re a hero! 😉


    February 20, 2009 at 9:17 PM

  13. Heroes can be black people too!!!

    Good to know that no matter how much you may change and grow as a person (read: Get old) you will always be racist.


    February 20, 2009 at 9:26 PM

  14. Well, that’s true!


    February 20, 2009 at 9:51 PM

  15. Sometime back, longer than I’d care to admit, I smacked down some humans over continually choosing to rib me for an Embarrassing Incident that was even FURTHER back in my personal history. I was pretty mean about it, actually, suggesting that if they’d like to continue to see me in the same light that was shining 15+ years back, I’d be more than willing to provide the same service for them. Perhaps putting my Embarrassing Incident in the context of OTHER things that were happening at the time, and would they like that?

    No, they would not. Way better than a cease and desist letter.

    I think this has something to do with your post. At least it did when I sat down to type this.

    You were saying?


    February 20, 2009 at 10:01 PM

  16. Your comment makes sense to ME. 🙂 But we’re special humans, you and I.

    This has everything to do with my post, in many different ways. I’m happy to have an outlet for the things that are bothering me (here) rather than punching people in the face whenever I want (and oh how I want). But in the end, it’s just me working through MY shit that has nothing to do with anyone else, even the people who are pushing my buttons. In every pocket of life, there’s opportunity for growth – there’s also an opportunity for a worse cliche in here, something about seeds being planted and the dawn of a new day… where am I?


    February 20, 2009 at 10:25 PM

  17. Have you seen that picture of me on my FB page from the first day of 7th grade? I am wearing a black polka dotted shirt, with the polka dots all different colors. Then the pants were multi-colored leopard print. Check it out if you havent! I bring it up, because it wasn’t until about 2 years ago that my mother stopped buying me rediculously crazy printed clothes for my birthday and Christmas because I like that style (not sure if I would call in style) She only changed because now my sister Kathy makes sure to go with her when she gets stuff for me.

    I guess I have known you since your youth, but I never really have thought of you in those terms. I mean, I have seen you act like a teenager/young adult, but we all did that, right?


    February 21, 2009 at 3:26 AM

  18. You have so eloquently explained (as always) exactly what I’ve been noticing around me lately and it makes me wonder; “Just because you haven’t changed that means i haven’t?”

    It irritates the shit out of me when I hear they speak of how I *was* as if it is still the way I am. (Like you said.)

    If I were unable to control my impulses, they would all have cutlery protruding from each of their orifices.

    Furtive Flatulence

    February 24, 2009 at 2:53 AM

  19. Now I’m curious as to who was doing this, because only myself and Auticia have the right to give you crap about that (because we were a) there and b) doing it with you). What poser is pretending they knew what was going on back then (that you are actually still in contact with)?

    That’s the refreshing thing about moving out of state-you get to reinvent yourself. Most of my Portland friends can’t imagine me a) on drugs or intoxicated most days of the week b) lap dancing c) being a rageaholic and having a short temper or d)being a general showoff attention whore.

    I can only imagine how respectable everyone will believe I am in Tennessee. At least you know different to keep me honest.


    February 24, 2009 at 3:43 AM

  20. To exist is to change; to change is to mature; to mature is to create oneself endlessly.

    I don’t remember who said that, but I have it written in the front of every one of my notebooks.


    March 4, 2009 at 2:27 AM

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