unpleasant musings

Whose business is it what you do in private? Why is it called private if you display it to the world? Why are we so hung up on privacy that we have 32 different procedures to get into our mail and then tell everyone our latest diseases and deepest darkest secrets? Has it occurred to anyone that  NOBODY CARES what you do in private? No?

See this makes no sense. My son posts pictures of his breakfast. I think to myself: self? Is this something I should like or comment on? Why would he care what I think of what he eats? Why would he care what ANYONE thinks of what he eats. If you were on the phone with someone, would you start your conversation, “Hey Joe! I had pancakes with strawberry syrup and bananas this morning. Did you have a good bowel movement? Do you want to see a picture of my sock drawer? I could send it to you.”

One of the things people used to do would be to hang dirty laundry on the line to air out so they wouldn’t have to wash it. Everyone would know it hadn’t been washed and it would be rather embarrassing if there were stains. It would, or should embarrass the owners of the laundry and the witnesses. So telling everyone private things is a bad idea. It’s private because it’s none of anyone’s business. And yet…

I really don’t care what you do in your bedroom. It’s none of my business if you’re homo or hetero sexual, bisexual, polysexual, asexual, solo sexual, an orgy enthusiast, or have a trapeze and a mirror in your bedroom. I don’t care what kind of pregnancy prevention you use. I don’t want to know if you have ED. (In the advertisements, they show a couple holding hands in separate bathtubs outside. How sexy is that? I picture a moose coming up and drinking out of the bathtub. I picture mounds of bubbles coming out her tub. I picture swarms of flying bugs forcing them under water. I picture him asking her, “What do you mean, ‘your water is too cold?’ How do you…never mind.”)

What I’m getting to is this: Why does ANYONE need to come out of the closet? Why is it necessary that the world knows what you do in private? It would be wayyyy too much information, I think! I know there are gay people, and I know there are trans people, and drag queens and such, but most of them don’t walk around with a sandwich sign saying “I’m Gay.  Change my mind.” They don’t wear feathers and flounce like Jonathan on Queer Eye. But they also don’t pretend not to be gay either. I don’t ask them about their private lives, and they don’t ask me about mine. We need to look past peoples’ private lives and just acknowledge that some things are none of our dam business.

You don’t need anyone’s approval to be the person you are. You don’t need to go viral on Face Book to prove your worth. All you need to be for the public eye is a good friend, a good member of the community, a good relative. How you do that is up to you. What you do in private has nothing to do with that, and is your concern, and your concern only!

Reminds me of a joke:

My favorite way to spend an evening is a great meal, candle light, and making love in front of the fireplace.

Apparently Cracker Barrel has a policy against this.

 

6 thoughts on “unpleasant musings

  1. I’d like to live in a world where my son won’t have to come out to me. He’ll just bring home someone he wants me to meet and that will be it. Coming out isn’t about what other people think and it’s not about airing your private business. There are lots of people who do it for attention, sure, but that’s people for you. Most, at least the ones I know, Come Out for their own self-acceptance among other reasons.

    I wish more people had your attitude about it, though.

    Like

  2. Isn’t it sad though, that in order for a person to accept him/herself, they have to make public something that is nobody’s business but their own?https://ihavebetterthingstodo.wordpress.com/2019/04/20/im-fat/
    I’m coming out of my Nerd Closet
    I’m coming out of my Disorganized Closet (if I can maneuver around the shoes and dirty laundry)
    I’m coming out of my Idealist Closet.
    I’m coming out of my Republican, ok, my disgusted Republican Closet.
    To accept myself, I have to tell everyone? Why does it matter if someone else knows? Why can’t we accept ourselves without a validation?

    Like

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