Nice People

I'm not entirely sure how to say this: I like nice people. I don't know if my definition of "nice" meshes well with everyone else's, but I like nice people.

Generally, people who mean no harm. That doesn't mean they can't be crude, rude and unattractive. I also like misfits.

But there's a difference between a misfit and a maleficent jackass.

Mistfits don't always have the best social skills. They're hard to understand, easy to misinterpret. They don't always understand other people, either. I'm all right with that. I have patience, and I don't mind using it to listen and try to understand where someone is coming from, even if they aren't very good at articulating themselves. Misfits are sometimes prone to impulsive behaviors that get them in trouble. Some of them "invite" ridicule, and some of them escalate unnecessarily when presented with a frustration trigger.

I use the term misfits as a blanket term for "everyone thinks there's something wrong with you" because I hate psychological diagnoses.

I don't like mean people. That is, I don't like people who complain and bitch about things that don't affect them, and take every opportunity to put down a misfit when they see one, whether because they're just a troll, or because they think it is their duty in some way to "fix" the misfit by telling them what they're doing wrong. I don't like busybodies who bother themselves with other people's problems and trying to dictate solutions to those problems, problems that have no bearing on them at all. I don't like people who believe there is no such thing as a victim. I simply think they're wrong.

I also don't like people who have no real social insecurities, but use a victim-complex to get their way. I don't like people who leech off other people when they don't have to, and it makes me sad that there are enough of such individuals that people who really need help are nearly indistinguishable from those who are good at conjuring sob stories.

I also don't like people who ad-hominem their way through arguments. And get away with it.

I like people who are neither misfits nor assholes. I like my parents. I like my cousins and aunts/uncles. I like all the blue-collars in my office.

I have the problem that often, these "normal" people (and if it doesn't apply to you, then I'm not talking about you) tend to empathize with people I think are assholes and show, at best, indifference toward "mistfits." It makes me sad, sometimes. It makes me wish there were some way to bridge the gap. I stopped wondering why it always seemed to happen that I stood in the eye between two people I liked who could not stand each other; the truth is, I've placed myself there. Maybe on purpose.

By an impossible, unshakable need to build a bridge. I don't mean Kumbaya...just understanding. There can be understanding, even between enemies. There can be disagreement and reasons to go to war that are devoid of any malice, and I think that point of understanding it something I am, for lack of a better word, addicted to. There's a weird satisfaction in finding clarity, knowing why someone doesn't like you, what about you they don't like, something they aren't misinterpreting, aren't demonizing, something about you they actually understand and find unpalatable. Is it weird that it's a positive feeling, to me?

I think that it must not be for other people, maybe. People who don't like each other spend so much time making shit up about each other, sometimes I don't think they actually know what it is they can't stand about the other person. Sometimes I don't think they want to know, because if they did, they might realize that there's nothing they could do to change it. They seem to think that if they can keep arguing, somehow the other person will get the hint and magically change without anyone ever admitting defeat.

I never want anyone to dislike me because they think I am a liar; because I'm not. I never want anyone to dislike me because I'm a malicious jerk; I'm not.

I don't want someone to dislike me for being something I'm not, or doing something I don't, or saying something I haven't (intentionally) said. I think that sentiment is pretty universal. What surprises me is how often people act in a way that goes against that. How often people make things up about those they disagree with, how often they conjure insidious reasons for others' actions, how often they assume they know what the other side thinks of them.

And because they make things up, they never address the real source of the divide. For example, Christians and atheists never actually address the problem of "I don't like that you do/don't believe in Jesus." They go off on tons of silly side-questy arguments, such as denial-of-the-problem ("everyone believes in God whether they want to or not, you're just lying to yourself"), and guilt-without-proof ("you're just too lazy to think for yourself, so you make up a god to do the thinking for you"). They attack each other's emotions and opinions and reasoning skills, as if that's really the part that's bothering them. When it's not. The fact is, the belief, or lack thereof, in a divine savior actually saddens each side, and because of the nature of that absolute divide, there's no resolution.

Strangely, the source of the anger is empathy for the other side, a desire to make things better, and an inability to do so. It's frustration, and nothing more or less.

It's also fear of losing a connection with someone due to a point of contention that can't be compromised on. Ignoring the real problem draws out the death of the connection, but it's a tortuous extension.

I'm not entirely sure what I'm trying to get at. I've learned that I purposely, if a little subconsciously, place myself between people who oppose each other like this. It happens so often, it can't possibly be unintentional on my part, even though I don't even notice myself doing it. I'm attracted to the divide, even though I really, truly hate being in the middle of the polarization.

What am I trying to do, here? What do I think I can accomplish? I can't force anyone to cut through the crap and look each other in the eyes. Goodness knows, I'm guilty of the side-questing, myself, when I'm frustrated to the point of breaking with someone. I make up phantoms just like everyone else does, in a desperate attempt to save a friendship I know has a giant hole shot through it.

I think that more friendships could be saved from tortuous demise if people could accept their differences. I don't mean accept in the sense of approve and forget. I mean accept as in realizing that, if a war ever started over that particular divide, they would be on opposite sides of it. But unless and until such a war begins, a connection can be maintained around the disagreement.

Really, I think that's what "agree to disagree" means. It's a lot more complicated than it sounds. It's an admission that your friend is sometimes your enemy, but still your friend. And you drop it. You really, totally drop it.

The hero must sometimes trek through the forest to see the witch to learn how to break an evil spell. And the witch doesn't always try to hurt him. Even though she's an outcast, and there's no doubt she has dealings the hero would never approve of, there's no doubt that if ever her dark magic became the subject of mass conflict they would be enemies, right now they have no reason to nitpick each other to death over their differences. All that matters is that they mean each other no harm, and the hero needs help with something both he and the witch can connect on; there's an evil spell to be broken. Never mind that she puts rat tails in her soup.

I don't see unlikely allies as so unlikely. I see thin dividing lines between nice people. I wish I had an eraser.