I thought it was only a myth or stereotype that women threw the best pity parties… until I threw one for myself. I must say that I was pretty impressed with the level of pity party it was. I had red velvet Oreos, a little box of tissues, a kitty cat in my lap, and the door to my room cracked just enough so a passer-by might hear my quiet, little sobs of sadness. I told you I was good at throwing parties.
In all seriousness though, why do women have ‘pity parties’ for themselves? I’m sure men have something like it but the good Lord knows it isn’t half as emotional as ours. I think maybe we just like to feel sorry for ourselves because we don’t think anyone else recognizes the struggles we face or the sadness we feel. Maybe it’s because we need time for an emotional release of pent up anxiety.
What was my pity party celebrating? My discouraging job hunt. Most of you who have been reading for awhile know that my job hunt has been less than fruitful. Actually, it’s just been down right bad. For some reason, yesterday I was just really feeling the weight of it. Combine that with my mom’s well-intentioned warning about my lack of finances to move in case I was selected for a job and I was just flat-out done with life for the day.
Instead of telling you all that there are hundreds of better things you can do that will make you realize how blessed you are, I’m going to insist that we allow ourselves to have this important emotional time. No one’s life is a constant high and it’s time we realize that our social media updates and that of our friends’ is only a highlight reel.
Proper Pity Party
Oprah may tell you to banish the blues by getting some exercise or doing something nice for someone else, but let’s be real, sometimes running 2 miles or shoveling my neighbor’s walkway isn’t the cure for the problem. My cure for the problem involves two phases.
Indulge in the self-pity. Watch a sappy chick-flick, eat a box of chocolates, wear cozy clothes, and snuggle under a blanket. Think about how much life sucks at the moment. Let it all out. Make sure to have an abundant supply of two-ply Kleenex. Text a best friend and just complain, if they’re really your friend, then they won’t say a word other than a reassuring “Aww, yeah. It’s hard, I know.”
Slowly (very slowly), get out of bed and make your way to the shower. Wash off the pity-party evidence on your face (i.e. tear stains and puffy eyes) and begin to strategize. What can you change in your life right now that will make things better or easier? What do you need to do to move in the direction you want to go? Are your expectations too high? Once you’ve answered the questions you need to answer you can leave your shower and start putting your answers into actions.
Voilá! You’re a new woman. I hereby give you permission to host pity parties as often as you need them.