Once, at a party during college, a friend did an off the cuff impression of me. The impression was him flipping his “hair” over his shoulder and saying in quick uninterrupted snarkiness, “WhateverIdon’tevencare.”
The crowd reacted like he was Robin Williams, the laughter was so sustained and cacophonous that I had to shout it down calling it stupid, which just made everyone laugh louder. The room erupted with, “WhateverIdon’tevencare”.
It followed me for months.
“WhateverIdon’tevencare,” a friend would say passing me in the hall between lectures.
“WhateverIdon’tevencare,” quipped a professor as he handed me back an essay.
I hated this impression. Mostly because it was very accurate.
The truth is I am not a positive person. I am happiest when I am complaining. I am at my most fulfilled when I am miserable. I revel in hating someone.
And then I became a mom.
My daughter is a beacon of sincerity. It’s one of the perks of being nine months old. When she smiles at you she means it. When she laughs at something you do it’s because she thinks it’s funny.
I learned everything I know about cynicism from my own mom. There wasn’t a word for it then, but my mom is a “Karen.” Store clerks were shouted down, acquaintances were happily greeted in public only to be shit talked once they were out of ear shot. My mom is not a secure person.
I want to be different. I want my daughter to trust in the good of people. I want her to be sharp and on her toes and not a big dummy about dangerous situations. I don’t even want her to be an insufferable optimist. I want her to be okay with the world being terrible sometimes. To not roll her eyes, flip her hair, and mutter, “WhateverIdon’tevencare,” when she really truly does care.
And so I am going to work on myself. I am going to notice when I am being cynical and I will acknowledge it. Not berate myself, but rather try and understand why I’m doing it.
I am going to try and care.
Eileen Writes Good 