Now, from what I comprehend, not all understand the term “butthurt”. Try not to think of it so literally, like “ouch, my butt hurts!!!” Think of it as more of a concept. To be butthurt is to be or feel odd, uncomfortable or, in the best way to put it, awkward. Whether you know it or not, you too get butthurt. How do you get butthurt you may ask, well, think of things that make you feel uneasy or make you want to walk away from a situation because it just may be too much to deal with. Or, perhaps it’s a situation that makes you feel like you would rather dig a hole, crawl into it and have someone dump soil on top of you and leave you. That is typically what butthurt feels like. I know that sounds extreme, but being butthurt is an extreme feeling. Let me tell you about some things that my make my butt hurt (another way to say that you are butthurt) and let’s see if you can relate.
Teenagers on Facebook and any other social media for that matter. Honestly, for the most part, it should be absolutely against the law. No, seriously. Teenagers should not be allowed on social media or else they must go to a social media reform school. Let us help spare them the embarrassment of all the crap they post so their future self does not feel butthurt when looking back at their past posts. Some of the things I see youngsters put online FOR ALL to see makes me so butthurt I want to blow up the internet.
Bethany Frankel. Why is she so mean? I know some folks thinks she is a badass power house, but I think she is scary and mean. Not scary like I’m scared of her, just fucking scary in general.
When you lie about having done yoga. Ok, listen up. I want nothing more than to help my students get the most out of their time on the mat. I ask every new yogi, have you done some yoga before? When they say yes, but have no idea what child’s pose or downward dog is when the position is called out, they are only doing themselves a disservice and it’s a dead giveaway that they told a fib. Yoga isn’t cheap. Don’t be embarrassed if it’s your first time, we are here to help you.
Loud chewing. It’s one of the worst things on the planet. If I can hear you chewing from the other side of the room, please know that I want to jump through my window and roll in the dirt.
When you say you’re going to do something and don’t. This is a giant pet-peeve of mine. But, not just for others, for myself. I try my hardest to do what I say I will do and, when I don’t, I get pissed at me. My to-do list and goal list is like 500 feet long, which I’m totally okay with, but it sometimes makes it quite the daunting task to get everything completed.
Show-offs in yoga. Listen, I get it. We all have badass poses we want to get into and play around with on the mat. As a teacher, I am all for diving deeper into your practice while in class and seeing where you can take a pose the teacher is leading you into. However, doing a handstand in the middle of a class while everyone is in a bridge pose or tree pose, is just straight up showing off. And as a teacher, it makes my butt hurt.
When I hear the words: if my husband will LET me. Let? As in “allow”? Nope. Lauren no likey those words.
Sweating the small stuff. AKA anxiety. I work hard to not leave a conversation with someone and retrace every single word and step of what we spoke about and what I said. When anxiety does peak its little head into my brain, I literally tell it to go F off. It works. Give it a try.
When someone gives me a baby to hold. And not just any baby, a baby who’s mom I don’t even know. I like holding some babies that I have actually met, but a stranger’s baby? This has happened to me. A friend of a friend once handed a tiny, live human across the table to me while at a restaurant for me to hold. I didn’t know the baby, or the baby’s mom. Or dad.
Children talking back to their parents. One of the scariest things growing up was my parents reaction if we chose to talk back. Now, they wouldn’t go beating us, maybe some mild physical adjustments, but it was the sense that they could kill us with a single look. Sometimes our dad would bend over to meet us at eye level and tell us to straighten our shit out without moving his teeth….at all. He literally would speak thru his teeth and it basically scared the shit out of me. How kids get away with it these days is beyond me.
When I get into an elevator and no one says hello back to me. Ok, just think about this for a second. The elevator doors open, you step in and there is just one guy already in the elevator. You say hello and acknowledge his existence. He stares forward and says nothing at all, not even a nod, but it’s too late. The metal doors have already closed. How cozy and comfortable do you feel going fifteen floors down with Silent Bob/Ted Bundy? Wait, Ted Bundy totally would have said hello and probably would have flirted too. Forget that example.
Ground beef and shrimp. That is all I will say.
When I walk into a conversation of two people and one person has something in their teeth, but the other person has decided not to tell them. I’m going to politely wait for a pause in the convo and let the individual with a huge piece of something or other know they have a little something there. They’ll end up grateful I told them and pissed the other person didn’t. I mean, who doesn’t want to know if they have something in their teeth? PS. The same goes for me if I walk away from speaking with someone and had something in my teeth that they never mentioned to me. Like, wtf?
Being told to not swear in public. Now listen, I don’t go around hootin’ and hollerin’ F bombs all over the place, but do I swear? Yeah, I swear a lot. I do put forth an honest effort to not curse in front of my elders because I want to remain respectful. And I work really hard to not swear in front of little kids. However, I am not down with anyone my age reprimanding me for saying some naughty words, in public, in conversation. That’s weird.
When the guy or gal painting your toenails is doing a really bad job, but you’re too nervous to tell them. Because you know if you point out any flaws they are for sure going to all talk about you in their native tongue and then you look like a giant butthole for complaining. But let’s be honest, we’re banking on a good pedicure lasting two plus weeks, am I right?
Lighting in dressing rooms. Not all lighting is equal. I have been in some dressing rooms, H&M for instance, and the lighting is glorious. Then I head over to Nordstroms the same day and holy hell! What happened in the twenty minutes between dressing rooms. Things like this need to be high priority for the interior design team.
Being rude to servers. The ultimate butthurt award goes to people who treat servers like they are below them. Nope. Queue me wanting to lift the table cloth, climb underneath it and suck my thumb for the remainder of supper time.
Ok, that about does it for what makes me butthurt. Now do tell, don’t be shy, what makes your butt hurt?
Love it. Live it. Share it please! XOXO