I have this friend named Meredith. We were once co-workers who are now great friends. She lives two streets over from me in a gorgeous co-op building, and is one of my favorite people in the world. This is greatly due to the fact that she knows everything about everything, and I always leave our conversations a little more enlightened than I was before. Hence, I look forward to our weekly or bi-weekly chats over overpriced smoothies or coffee in our hipster Brooklyn neighborhood. (Seriously though, why are we paying that much for blended vegetables and fruit topped with bee pollen?) A few weeks ago we were sitting in our favorite cafe, which is often heavily populated by families whose children have too much authority. This cafe alone has made me reconsider motherhood. Those children are little terrorists as far as I’m concerned. At any rate, we still managed to get our catch up session in over the screams of a child who clearly did not want a gluten free cookie.
“I just don’t subscribe to the toxicity of positivity that we live in these days,” she said.
“Elaborate,” I said inquisitively.
“This constant need everyone has to be so positive about everything all the time is just toxic. Bad feelings serve a purpose too.”