Kenneth Barnes4 said:I’m posting in psychology because I can't stand watching a bunch of moms jump to defend their kids.
Nowadays, modern psychology loves pushing this "no physical punishment" stance. Let's check out this video. Parents keep insisting kids know they shouldn't go with strangers, so why does this even happen?
It's theory. Kids are born with zero knowledge about how the world actually works. When parents say, "there will be bad consequences," the kid CANNOT visualize those consequences because they have no prior experience with them. Basically, parents are just talking to thin air and wasting their breath. They achieve nothing. Kids are also selfish. So, when we use physical discipline, here’s what happens: when a kid finds themselves in a situation that might lead to bad outcomes, they remember they'll get punished—meaning they'll end up in a bad spot (because of the parent). That’s what they’ve experienced, so that's what they avoid. That's how you control a child to teach them what to avoid and what not to.
Sure, people will cry "violence, boohoo," but the fact is, people who want to beat and abuse their kids are going to do it regardless of what some textbook says is allowed. My support for physical discipline has nothing to do with child abuse; it’s just an easier way to steer them toward a better outcome.
Bottom line: kids decide based on how they feel in the moment. Look at a dog—it's cute, so they want to see it more because it's fun. But the idea that "a stranger might hurt you" is impossible for them to grasp.
Here's another one: You want cookies? Yes. NO, THERE WILL BE CONSEQUENCES. AGAIN. You want cookies? Yes.
Zero impact and zero understanding without lived experience.
Regarding that second video—it looks like the kid is just mechanically memorizing the word "no." After a few minutes, you can tell the technique is already starting to lose its effectiveness. At that age, it seems like the best way to go, but hey, maybe I haven't stumbled upon a better method yet. Is there actually a better approach out there that isn't so brain-numbing for a toddler? Maybe telling really engaging stories? 🤔
If they get too stuck on the word "no," wouldn't the kid "supposedly" start feeling some discomfort during those increasingly intense attempts to turn "no" into "yes"—and then react accordingly?
I can see the kid distinguishing the emotional vibe between "yes, I want that" and "no."
I don't see any reason why a kid should be getting smacked in either scenario.
As far as I'm concerned, this could be the key to the whole thing. PLEASE.
Hang on, just one more thought and I'm done with this thread... 🐔
The reason for the "smack"? If I'm constantly repeating myself and explaining things—like, say, telling them not to stick their fingers in an outlet, or not to pull off the safety cover, or not to push a piece of furniture away from the wall with a sibling's help just so they can play with the outlet together... and if the kid just decides they aren't listening... then, seeing that "inappropriate" behavior, I might give them a little "tap" on the fingers. No anger, no rage, no frustration (especially since they interrupted me during a super important moment). Looking back, that tap would be more about grabbing their attention than being a "punishment." 🤔 And if they're *that* interested in electricity... uhm... honestly, I am too—we can be curious together. 🕺 Fire, knives, sharp edges... all that stuff... Curiosity first, safety always! 🧐
Kenneth Barnes4 said:That’s basically what I’m talking about. Getting rewarded just for being a pain in the ass is actually a punishment. You use a system of rewards and consequences to guide a kid, right? But you can't do that unless you actually know where you're going. You shouldn't be sending a kid down a path that's just gonna screw them over. A kid needs to be able to trust their parents. They need to see real-world examples that prove what the parent is doing actually makes sense—that the parent can actually predict an outcome better than the kid can.
Look, I'm trying to make this clear, but I honestly don't get where he's getting it from. 🤷
Let's try this instead—did your cloning thing actually cause any trouble? And are you even aware that running two accounts on the same thread is against the rules?
Answer me that first, then we can move on. ☕
🤣 Who else do you think I am? Just curious. 🤣
Look, this thread isn't about aggressive parents losing their cool and beating their kids. Those people beat adults too, which is a completely different beast, right? Unless they’re only targeting the sick. Which is even worse. But that's not what I'm talking about here.
I'm talking about using punishment to guide a kid. If you're the parent, what's your move? Capable. Deciding what's actually best for your kid. Harder than it looks, right?
The truth is, most people just stay quiet because they can't actually raise a kid properly to begin with. You're all out here giving me examples like, "Oh, these parents were beating their kids." Please. Most folks don't even have the basics down. 😕 So, let's talk about aggressive people. Nowadays, everyone's obsessed with this "no aggression" mantra. You've got these parents who swear by every parenting book on the shelf, trying to raise kids perfectly by the manual. It’s all very polite, right? But honestly, I want to hear from the realists. Does anyone actually have an example of parents who were decent people but still used physical discipline? Is that even allowed to be said anymore?
So I have this friend, right? Total powerhouse. Smart, responsible, killing it in her career. She told me that back when she was fourteen, she ran away from home with some guy and left a note for her parents. When they finally tracked her down, they absolutely laid into her with a belt. She told me—and I’m quoting here—“I never once thought about doing something like that again.” She didn't end up with any long-term trauma or anything; she’s fine. And now that she has her own kid, the idea of messing around with her child like that never even crosses her mind. Why is that?
He’s way too close to his parents. He respects his old man too much. Seeing him react like that? It honestly just shamed her. How much did she have to hurt or scare him to trigger a reaction like that? She's never doing it again. That wasn't the goal.
Honestly, it feels like most of you aren't even listening to what I'm saying. You just don't get it. Look, I’m speaking theoretically here. I'm talking about guiding a kid this way, assuming the parent actually has their life together enough to handle everything else. You gotta nail the basics first—emotional stability. The kid needs to feel safe, protected, and actually led in the right direction. That's the priority. What’s the number one thing when it comes to raising kids? Honestly, what even matters most?
The examples you guys are throwing out about aggressive psychos are total nonsense. They have zero to do with what we're actually talking about. 🤔 Look, I’m not talking about child abuse here, and I’m definitely not even hinting at it. 🤣
Exactly. It all comes down to the "why." If a kid breaks a glass and gets physically lashed out at for it? That’s straight-up twisted. People like that shouldn't even be allowed near kids. Punishment should only ever be about what's actually good for the child. Period.
Look, regarding that blow—I’m telling you, it’s rarely some calm, calculated move. It almost never stays just one hit, either. I mentioned that subconscious "human gaze" thing before—think about it—would your eyes even stay steady? Yours definitely aren't, because you're just not making a convincing case.
The whole reward and punishment thing—paired with constant "guidance"—is basically just a recipe for creating an addict. It’s nothing more than training them like animals. I don't get why people think this is okay; kids shouldn't be conditioned—they should just be allowed to actually be kids.
Maybe it’s just me, but as I get older, every kid I meet keeps tearing down my old assumptions—you know, that whole idea that they're just these helpless, clueless little things. Honestly? Once you actually take a second to pay attention to them, it's wild how much they can blow their parents' minds... assuming the parents actually know how to listen. The older I get, the more I realize that "ideal" future version of myself is basically just a carbon copy of my childhood self.
Man, they get so damn creative when you actually "let" them have some freedom—though let’s be real, I mostly just mean letting myself believe what my kid says.
How's a parent even supposed to tell if it's actually happening? I'm ready.?
Can you list all the parental... True. Right after the baby's born?
Look, regarding that example—one of the most annoying clichés out there is that whole "you'll understand when you have kids" line. It’s such a trap. Basically, someone who hasn't processed their own childhood trauma ends up passing that exact same trauma down to their kid—or swinging to the complete opposite extreme—just because they finally reached a point where they feel justified in losing their cool. That’s just what an aggressive parent looks like—someone who has totally snapped. Now, maybe they felt bad about it later. If they did, I really hope they actually sat down and talked it out with their child; that's the only way to actually bond. I just hope they didn't try to make excuses for themselves—they need to just own it and take full responsibility for what they did.
So yeah, it’s totally possible—and way more likely if he didn't even bother apologizing—that if her kid pulled the same stunt, she’d go with the exact same parenting style. Seems pretty fair, right?
Anger comes from one place, but worry? That's a different beast entirely. Being hurt and being worried usually look a lot different. It's not about her feeling slighted by what happened or blaming the action itself—it's just the natural instinct of a parent to be concerned.
I also think it makes sense for a parent to be open about their feelings, so the kid learns how to handle them too. The real question is: would that dad lose his mind if she did the same thing? Probably not. He doesn't have ownership over her.
Kids aren't property; they're people. They're just younger versions of us, and despite what most folks think—age doesn't give them any special status or inherent value. All it gives you is responsibility—and man, that is a massive, heavy responsibility.
It’s starting to feel like one of the biggest parts of being a parent (besides building trust and actually earning a kid's respect) is teaching them how to process emotions—how to feel things and manage them—rather than just teaching them how to bow down to authority.
Emotional manipulation is what stirs up the "evil" in someone. Personally, I feel like my job is to make sure that darkness stays asleep, which I can only do if I keep my own long-awakened inner demon in check. That's why I'm against physical punishment—with the tiny exception of maybe one swat without all the emotional baggage, and even then, only until they hit five. Anything after that is just pure dominance.
I don't think I have any issues with my vocabulary—you know, a lack of it. Neither with being eloquent nor putting words together into something that actually makes sense grammatically. I’d even say I’m pretty confident. (Sometimes maybe a little too much 😈 )
Both when I'm writing and when I'm talking.
But... damn... it just "slips out" ☕ (not really slips, though) And honestly, I love it. It's a total blast. And when I'm totally stumped—like, if I can't find the right words to comfort someone—it doesn't matter if I say "holy crap" or just "aw man." Honestly, the first one feels more approachable—more like an invitation for a hug.
Every swear word serves a purpose. It's a super effective way to communicate, too, provided you know how to use it in the "right" spot, just like any other word. If you overdo it, you just hit a saturation point.
I actually think people who swear (within reason, obviously, or depending on the situation) are pretty—well, relatively healthy individuals.
Swearing sounds different depending on the context. I save my juiciest ones for when I clumsily hurt myself—like, say, slamming a very sensitive part of my body (to be polite, I won't specify which ) against the edge (specifically, the corner) of a table while rushing to set things up. That's when my eloquence really shines. There's nothing sweeter than forgetting the pain by trying to invent an even more nonsensical curse word. It's even better when there's an audience behind me cracking up. I'd much rather my partner be laughing along with me than have me rolling on the floor in agony. Those are the ones I don't share publicly. ☕
Sexual jokes and vulgarity aren't really my thing. Unless they're coming from women generally speaking🎉> In a professional setting, I don't let any swearing come out of my mouth. It depends, of course, on whether we're talking about coworkers or clients. When I'm with my inner circle, I'm free to swear as much as I want. And I'll admit, I don't go overboard. 🕺
Vulgarity? Everything has its limit. Except for this forum's total nonsense. 🙂
Joseph Bailey41 said:Reading through this thread—man, I’ve felt a knot in my stomach at least five times now. My own experience was more emotional than physical, at least from what I can remember. I can't process everything yet, but I'm pretty sure it wasn't the kind of heavy-duty beating that gets you a police report or makes CPS show up at your door. It was just... "standard" parenting with a belt or a wooden spoon.
Exactly. I had a similar reaction when dealing with "toxic parents."
For us, it was mostly short bursts of anger and aggression—not the actual beatings that way too many kids unfortunately endure. The only thing that really sticks with me—the part that still "bugs" me—is that look in a parent's eyes that you just don't want to see.
On topic, though... Like I said, I can only speculate here. I don't know how much kids actually realize while they're living through it. One thing is for sure: my North Star will be *not* hitting. Especially if my kid is driving me up the wall in that moment. (I could go on about how my kid will never frustrate me like that... but... hey, I'm not a mom yet.)
And I'm definitely not looking to raise a bunch of incompetent, spoiled brats to throw into the world—we have plenty of those already.
I'll figure some things out as I go. Either way, I still don't buy for a second that physical discipline comes from any kind of heaven.
Joseph Bailey41 said:That sense of detachment is actually called dissociation. It’s when you try to recall certain moments later and either find huge gaps in your memory, or you see those scenes playing back like a movie filmed from a few feet above your head. You might even experience this during an everyday situation where parts of the "film" just go missing, even if you haven't touched any alcohol or drugs. For instance, you might drive to work, park in the lot, and realize you have absolutely no memory of the drive itself. Logically, you know you took the usual route and didn't get into any accidents, but the memory just isn't there. Or, someone could be talking to you and it’s like they aren't making a sound, even though your hearing is perfectly fine. You realize you've missed the last fifteen minutes of their story because you simply checked out (which can often be a lingering effect of emotional trauma experienced during childhood).
As for making peace with death... honestly, if someone told me I was going to pass away tomorrow, I don't think I'd have much of an emotional meltdown. I’d probably just focus on getting my affairs in order—finishing up work tasks, drafting a will, cleaning out my computer, and organizing my paperwork. There's a certain practical advantage to that mindset, too. ☕
Is that all because of repression? And is there actually a fix for it?
Harold Anderson3 said:I suppose, what else is there left to do? 😒
I’ve hit rock bottom myself, more than once, and I found that the way out wasn't tucked away in just one thing—not in my faith, my career, my family, sports, my social life, or even medication—but rather in finding a way to weave all of those pieces together. 🙂
Yeah, I get it, obviously you don't have many options left—but a lot of people just stay stuck in that hole. I can see you're actually trying to "climb out." 🙂
Doesn't matter how you found your way out. 🙂
Look, when I talk about my own "productive" trip to rock bottom, I'm not saying everyone should do it that way. Honestly, I wouldn't recommend it to anyone.
Harold Anderson3 said:It's honestly terrifying 😢 reading about how children manage to survive those kinds of situations in a book I once came across. It mentioned things like dissociating from your own body or making peace with death—I don't remember every detail, but that was the gist. Some people grow up to become sociopaths, while most deal with various psychological struggles. I vividly remember my younger half-brother, who's three years my junior, getting beaten because he struggled with math. My stepmother used to hit him so hard he'd lose track of which hand was his left and which was his right. I'm not exaggerating. It’s actually quite surprising how normally he seems to have turned out, but he still struggles with sudden, impulsive reactions and can never seem to just sit still; he always has to be doing something. I don't want to pry into his personal business, especially since I carry my own baggage from everything I went through, too. But genetics plays such a massive role here; someone who has endured all that chaos might still end up a healthy person, provided they have the right genetic foundation.
Ugh, man. I am seriously so sorry for everything you and your brother went through... but I can see you're fighting to get to a better place. 👍
I'm not gonna stick my nose into your relationship with your brother. Especially because I know not everyone wants to fix things—and definitely not in a way that works for me or you. Plus, it's hard to help someone else when you haven't helped yourself yet. Sometimes, just being there as support and showing love is enough.
I have a sister too, and I think she's had it even tougher than I did in some ways. All I want is for her to be happy and at peace with herself... but I can't force anything except being there whenever she needs me. I just hope we've built enough of a bond that she actually feels comfortable reaching out when she needs support or just someone to sit with. I got pretty lucky—I didn't learn to repress everything, but she didn't have that luxury.
As for me personally, all those shifts drove me crazy. Honestly, the emotional stuff hit way harder than the physical punishments. One minute I'm telling my parent everything, the next I feel like I have an anchor tied around my neck; one second I see love and connection, the next it's pure rage—or like I said, hate. All those mixed signals really messed with me since I was a sponge, soaking up everything around me as a kid. And I only saw "pure" love during the moments where I was completely submissive, so that became my default mode—being submissive was how I functioned in childhood. That's why, among other things, I used to just fall apart.
I don't hold grudges anymore, though. I've finally started seeing my parents as just humans rather than "gods" who were "obligated" to love me.
And yeah, I've made peace with death. I've been thinking about it since I was 13. I almost died myself—thankfully I survived, but there was this period where I felt this weird grief that I wasn't dead already.
Maybe in the last year or two, everything just flipped. I hit rock bottom, remembered all the stuff I wanted to forget, was right on the edge of making some drastic moves... and then, for the first time, I rebuilt myself on some actual solid ground. Now, I see things for what they actually are, not how I wished they would be.
Look, I’m not a parent yet, so I don't claim to know everything—I just have a pretty clear vision of how I want things to go. From a kid's perspective, the worst part about physical punishment wasn't even the actual hit or the pain... it was seeing that pure rage, almost hatred, in my parents' eyes. That's what really creeped me out—that raw aggression.
Honestly, it feels to me like when a parent raises their hand, it’s rarely some calm, rational single strike that sticks with you. It’s usually just an explosion of anger because they ran out of patience.
Just thinking out loud here, but I hope that when I eventually reach that stage where my kid is driving me absolutely insane and I feel the urge to lash out... I'll be able to just walk away, cool off, and then deal with it. Right after, I'll take a second to actually figure out why I'm feeling the urge to hit someone—especially a child. Aggression kicks in whenever someone doesn't "flow" exactly the way we planned for them.
My point is, if "disciplinary" hits ever happen, they aren't coming from a place of wanting to teach the kid a lesson. They come from wanting to satisfy an impulse. And then it gets wrapped up in this whole "doing it for the child's own good" excuse.
Honestly, I was so stoked when I stumbled upon this thread—it really helped me pin down all those abstract vibes that were just floating around in my head. So, thanks for that. 👍
Speaking of which, you hit the nail on the head—we’re talking about the same thing, but it feels abstract because that whole self-awareness piece is totally different for everyone. Sure, people can throw definitions at you, but until you actually live through the process yourself, a definition is just words. You have to feel it in your gut. That process is what makes everything personal and tailor-made for you. That's basically how my own principle works. You spot the flaws and strengths in your own thinking, then you toss out anyone else's ideas.
People used to tell me I overthink way too much—that I was just making life harder for myself. And I actually bought into that! I took it as "case closed," totally ignoring the fact that their logic wasn't mine. My actual principle? Deep-dive analysis—breaking things down to the bone and then rebuilding them from scratch. When I tried to stop, it felt like hell inside. I mean, how do you stop being who you are? You can try to suppress it or ignore it, but it’s always gonna want out. "Stopping" the analysis just left me feeling even more frustrated, because everything I truly am was just bubbling up to the surface anyway. So, I just went back to being myself, and that's when things finally started clicking. It’s probably part of that "letting go" thing I mentioned before. Next time frustration hits, I'll just see it for what it is—a signpost telling me there's something to uncover, not some label that defines me. I *feel* the emotion, but I am not the emotion.
So, yeah, all ten solutions are equally doable. That’s the beauty of it—being open to all ten. Honestly, though? It feels like you aren't quite ready for all of them yet; you're looking for just one to pick.
In my head, I'll aim for the one I want most (if it's something I can actually control), but until the final result happens, every option stays on the table. (Not exactly, though—short version: as time runs out, the options naturally shrink.)
What I mean is, I accept all options equally. "Dreaming up" new paths actually brings me peace instead of stress. Before, I was in a phase where I was suppressing myself because I was scared of my own shadow. The world kept telling me I shouldn't be "this way," but who even defines what "this way" is? I felt that same frustration you're feeling from all those empty possibilities. That was my uncentered Chaos—just pure restlessness from having too many doors standing open.
It even messed with my art. I could rarely finish anything because I’d already "seen" the finished product in my mind. But lately, that’s flipped, and it’s actually turned into a kind of artistic outlet. I draw with insane detail now—even my paintings have shifted that way. Writing is the same. By influencing outcomes I've already envisioned, I get this weird mix of control and letting go, which lets me peer into the hidden parts of myself (the parts that actually *feel* things). I create straight from my head; I'm not trying to transfer an idea, I'm just expressing my inner world.
The best part? That frustration you're feeling... it's what forces you to ask questions and hunt for answers. The fact that these questions are self-oriented is actually super healthy for you. You're moving along the "right" path of the process. For me, that frustration eventually turned into peace. The questions didn't disappear; they just started coming from a place of pure, objective curiosity.
You can give yourself a "diagnosis," but... honestly, that word sounds pretty negative to me. It implies you're "outside the norm" or that you "should" be working to be more "acceptable" to society. Plus, once you label yourself, you tend to stop learning because... hey, you've got a diagnosis, right? A diagnosis defines how you're different, but it doesn't tell you who you are (or maybe it's better to say "where you are").
Define yourself. Period. Psychology and psychiatry can be great guides if you use them for direction, just don't use them as a crutch.
And finally... 😁 In my case—I first come up with a "primary thought," a sort of North Star. If I start wandering too far off track, I can always find my way back to that core idea. And if I feel things starting to connect or fall apart (you can just sense it), I pause, organize everything the way I described, and then move forward. Honestly, I think I’ve basically rewired my own brain through sheer repetition at this point. The big difference between us? I rarely get lost in those random daydreams—if I'm "dreaming," it’s usually about something actually achievable. When I want to really wander off, I do it through art; that’s where I let myself dive into whole other worlds.
Anyway, I don't know how much more I can say—I feel like I've laid it all out for you already, so the ball's in your court. I'm not gonna tell you "what to do"—that feels like I'd be forcing my own philosophy on you, and I'm just not about that. If I had to suggest one thing, though? Don't stifle your creativity.
Sorry for the novel! I'm over and out—sending lots of patience your way. 🎉
The rooms, the drawers, the doors—all those mental spaces aren't some cozy escape hatch I decorate just to hide away. Not at all. They’re more like tools for my emotions and analysis—basically part of my internal machinery. Even my thoughts aren't an exit strategy from reality; they're how I make sense of it. If you find yourself retreating into your own head, maybe that's where the glitch is?
For me, what I just described isn't separate from who I am. It's not some distinct little world tucked inside me (even though most people basically live in their own private universes) I don't struggle with focusing on thoughts. Maybe it's because it just happens automatically—I tend to lock onto that first thought right away. That’s why I can ramble about something for three hours straight and then effortlessly loop back to where I started. Maybe you could try creating a "starting point" in your mind? Like, memorize it using associations—giving a thought a physical shape or a visual cue. Say, I start talking about human psychology, and somehow end up drifting toward Chaos and the organization of the universe 🤣 Psychology might trigger a specific color in my mind, or an emotion, or even a visual image. Like, psychology might remind me of a box, and just like that, I’ve anchored the original thought.
Yeah, it's under my control because I actually designed the system to fit how my brain works. Before that, it was pure Chaos—just totally unfocused. That’s why I used to stop myself from drifting too much. You have control here. This isn't some alternate dimension; it’s just you.
It's interesting you mention resisting labels. It feels like you're working really hard to fit into a specific diagnosis. I get it—it’s easier that way. You push back against being boxed in, yet deep down, you’re desperate to find a category that explains you. Even when people act similarly, the "why" behind it is usually totally different. Humans are way too complex to be reduced to scientific or psychological patterns. Those are just templates. If I'm reading you right, instead of your mental processes working for you, you're working for them. Your "self" is the core.
I don't have a diagnosis. 🙂 I haven't looked for one either, though for a while, I was just like you—trying to squeeze myself into established frameworks. It feels easier, gives you a sense of belonging, but you don't actually end up meeting your true self. I actually met myself because that’s the upside of this kind of process—if you keep it under wraps. You can see the big picture so much more clearly. Now, if it messes with your daily life or how you deal with people, then yeah, that's a problem. But if it's just a matter of lacking control, that’s something you can "easily" learn.
What’s happening in your head can go either way—it could be a massive gift or a huge burden. I know. Honestly, sometimes the best way to figure out who you are is to just let go—to let yourself get swept up in your own existence. I don't even know how to put it. I don't know how much you're holding yourself back...
I've studied psychology and psychiatry on my own as deeply as I could—not necessarily to explain who I am now, but to trace how I got here, to figure out what parts are "me" and what parts were just shaped by my upbringing.
Visualization really helps—though it all comes down to how creative you are. My rule of thumb when things start spiraling out of control—which honestly feels more like one giant, "sticky" web of chaos to me—is that it’s time to categorize. I can't move forward until I've sorted everything and identified what belongs where. If I don't categorize, the whole web just falls apart—the core info, the actual heart of the breakdown, just vanishes.
Here's how it looks in my head: there’s this massive, smooth, black void. Inside that space, I build a long hallway of doors. Each door has its own label. Behind those doors, you either find more doors (depending on how deep I need to go) or a section filled with "office drawers," which are also labeled. Since you mentioned being a visual person, this setup might sound familiar. I actually use something similar to manage how I express emotions (not the feelings themselves, just the expression)—I have specific "rooms" for that.
I'm not sure how much one can actually stop analyzing, or if that's even necessary. My approach is basically studying myself until I figure out how to best use the tools I was born with. I don't want to suppress my nature unless it directly clashes with someone else's.
That's just how it works naturally—you explore who you are instead of molding yourself to fit someone else. At the end of the day, all our natures are part of the same "web." I can't live as an imitation. (I end up with these weird, disconnected conclusions that only make sense to me 🕺 )
By embracing your true nature, you unlock that intuitive side of yourself—that elusive core. You react to problems with this logical-intuitive blend. (To me, intuition is just knowledge you've reached through self-discovery without even realizing it. It's not some "predetermined impulse from the universe." 😬 )
Keith Hernandez4 said:So many people are just selfish, superficial, and completely lacking in empathy. They’ll label you as "always happy" simply because you don't walk around with your head down and insist everything is fine. The point is, people rarely want to know what’s actually hiding beneath someone else's skin—unless it’s something they can use to boost their own ego. Just look at the OP. They play a role, and it "annoys" them, yet they end up with stomach ulcers and sitting in therapists' offices. Does that conclusion strike you as well-meaning, as if there were a genuine interest in finding out why these people aren't as happy as they pretend to be? Or is it just malicious, because, hey, she’s a grouch, so how dare she wear a mask to protect herself from that very malice?
For me, it's the people who are always "moody" for no actual reason that get under my skin. They act like life owes them something more than it gives, simply because they exist. They complain so much they don't even have time to ask the person they're talking to how they are. They reject every bit of good advice, take the path of least resistance, and then whine when everything falls apart and they have to face the music. They’re always the ones having it "hardest"—it doesn't matter if you broke your leg; to them, their broken fingernail is somehow the more tragic catastrophe.
If I care about someone, I’ll try to get to know who they really are and give them solid proof that they don't have to perform for me. If I don't care, then why should their "cheerfulness" bother me? Everyone manages life however they can, and everyone has their own defense mechanisms. I certainly won't look down on them just because I believe I should always be blunt and show all my grumpy sides while they choose not to. Not to mention, in my opinion, anyone who thinks they can be completely honest with everyone hasn't had a particularly difficult life, nor do they truly understand human nature.
And yeah, too many of them feel absolutely no sorrow when someone else is hurting. Quite the opposite, actually—they enjoy seeing others suffer, or perhaps they find more satisfaction in someone else's pain than in their own.
No, that conclusion doesn't sound well-meaning to me at all. Not like they're actually interested in finding out the "why" behind it. But does that mean nobody else is allowed to want to understand? I don't get it. We can fully understand someone and it still won't change anything for them—some things just can't be changed, you just have to accept them.
So, what does "total honesty" even mean to you? Look, I’ve dealt with absolute hell in almost every area of my life (and I needed someone from the outside who didn't know me to actually convince me of that, since everyone loves to say, "well, others had it harder"). So I’m still being honest, no matter how much it hurts or how people try to throw their fears at me. Always honest? That sounds just as ridiculous as being always cheerful or always moody. Life isn't that black and white; there are tons of shades of gray. But I'm not going to lie to someone's face just because I know I messed up—if I can find the strength to forgive myself and not do it again, or if I just decide to let it all go to hell. Because I've seen where lying to someone's face leads. You can be honest in a kind way, regardless of whether the other person is attacking you. It's for my own sake and out of respect for the other person. It’s not about acting superior. If you aren't honest, how are you ever going to find the truth? I want to be happy in life, not living in a nightmare. I've had enough of that since I was in elementary school—pretty much my entire life.
To really get someone—to truly understand them—means knowing when they’d rather stay under the radar and not be seen. It’s about giving them exactly what they’re craving, even if they can't put a finger on it themselves or just won't admit they need it.
I’ve got no problem playing the part, whether that means acting grumpy or being the life of the party. The people who actually care about me don't mind at all, because honestly, I make a real effort to prioritize their feelings too. I spent a long time wearing masks, learning how to adapt and just "go with the flow." But eventually, I just got tired of it—it wasn't making me any happier or more at peace. Now? I'm much more chill. I've tried a few different ways of navigating life, and this is where I landed.
Here’s the bottom line: Games are for work; honesty is for real relationships. How deep does that go? Only as deep as you want the connection to be.
Keith Hernandez4 said:Personally, I find myself increasingly irritated by people who can’t seem to mind their own business—those who act as if they have some divine right to dictate how others should behave or feel. And then, heaven forbid, if someone shows even a tiny bit of human imperfection, they practically feast on it just to feel superior.
I see it happening constantly on this forum. It’s almost as if everyone is just sitting there, waiting for someone to post about a struggle—a struggle that might even be their own fault, because, well, they're only human—just so they can descend like vultures, ready to lecture and condescend. Why is that? Is it because seeing someone else stumble gives us wings? Does witnessing weakness or vulnerability make us feel taller? As if we need to kick someone while they're down just to ensure they hit the pavement even harder?
So, that’s why I’m "always cheerful." For one thing, when someone asks how I am, they rarely actually care about the truth. And for another, I refuse to hand over any ammunition to the malicious types out there; I have no desire to give anyone the satisfaction of knowing I'm struggling. Perhaps those very people who get under your skin simply don't strike you as safe enough to share real feelings with, so you end up hiding behind a mask of positivity. Given how many people are just idling, waiting for a moment of weakness so they can twist the knife, I suppose my cynicism isn't misplaced.
For some of us, it isn't about performing for an audience at all; it's just about building a wall to protect ourselves from the toxic, intrusive crowd.
Personally, I wouldn't call her someone who’s just "always happy." To me, if you're constantly upbeat but totally alone, you don't really know how to live—one of my big takeaways here is that part... that need to surround yourself with people to the absolute extreme. The way this is written makes it feel more like a survival tactic—like she's just trying to cope with a social circle that turns toxic the second anyone shows a hint of being real. 🤷
I’ve learned to deal with this by constantly reminding myself: don't take it personally. It’s just their own fear talking—even if it comes out looking pretty ugly sometimes. Honestly, when someone is brutally honest with you, it forces you to look in the mirror, and let's face it, that isn't easy. People start building up these massive walls—defensive shields, whatever you want to call them. Some people really do thrive on watching others struggle—they try to lift themselves up by pointing out everyone else's screw-ups, like that somehow makes their own mistakes disappear. And yeah, I get it—I’ve definitely fallen into that trap before, thinking, "See? At least I'm better because I didn't mess that up." But at the end of the day, everyone owns their own mistakes. You're the one who has to live with what you did. And once it actually sinks in... man, it hurts. I'm not even talking about ego here—I'm talking about the actual consequences. How are you supposed to not feel gutted when you know you messed up?
I’ve been pretty lucky so far—I'm young, but man, things could have gone south so many ways. Honestly? I'm just glad they didn't. Instead, I got this chance to actually learn what *could* have happened. Lessons learned, right?
Personally, I’m obsessed with figuring out why people are the way they are—myself included.The whole idea of being one-sided isn't about balance; it's just exclusivity. You could "label" folks as either simple-minded optimists or total grumps. But honestly? It’s all subjective. In my book, a "grump" is just as much of a surface-level person as someone who's always smiling. The problem is, calling someone "shallow" feels judgmental, right? Like, who actually *wants* to be shallow? Avoiding that shame is exactly what keeps people stuck. Shame is such a massive weapon society uses against us. But when you stop measuring yourself by everyone else's yardstick and start looking inward, you don't feel that kind of shame anymore—which basically disarms society.
I totally get why people choose to stay superficial—it’s easy to just blend into the crowd and dodge any real responsibility. See, "constructive grumps" have just as much depth as those "constructive optimists." They aren't driven by some underlying impulsive emotion because they’ve actually done the work to look inside and accept who they are. And let's be real: it's not just one type driving the world. It's the mix of all four combinations—the happy-grumps and the constructive-happy-grumps alike. Most people love to moan about how "the world has become" such an ugly place... but since day one—I've seen this world as the most vibrant, beautiful place ever, including all the messy shades in between.
Psychology exists for a reason, sure, but you can't really take a "concrete" stance on anyone without knowing their specific circumstances. How deep you go depends entirely on how well you actually know the person. I’m not trying to play God or act like I have authority over anyone by pushing exclusive opinions. Respecting someone means letting them grow right in front of you—flaws and all. Being a "supreme authority" usually requires a certain level of emotional detachment. But is that even possible? Can you actually detach from being human?
Austin Murphy5 said:I wonder if anyone else here can relate to the sentiment I’m about to share.
To give you some context: I enjoy my solitude just as much as I enjoy good company. While I certainly show emotion, I tend to keep the vast majority of my internal world to myself—not because I’m being secretive, but simply because I don't feel the need to, nor has it ever been particularly wise to do so. When it comes to the people I actually choose to spend my time with, they absolutely must possess a few specific traits: 1. The ability to engage in abstract conversation—you know, discussing ideas rather than just gossiping about other people or rehashing daily events. 2. They cannot be the type to mock others, especially those who are less fortunate or weaker. 3. They shouldn't be prone to talking back—even accidentally. That is essentially my baseline for meaningful connection. Of course, I would never be unkind to colleagues who don't meet these criteria (and frankly, they never do), but I simply have no desire to socialize with them outside of the office if they don't fit the bill.
As for whether people are generally "good-natured" or in a high spirit... well, that has never really been a deciding factor for me. If someone is having a rough day, I will likely be the one stepping in to help; conversely, if they are in a fantastic mood, I am more than happy to celebrate their happiness. Most people exist somewhere in the middle—navigating their own ups and downs—and I find that perfectly acceptable.
However, I find I have a much higher tolerance for the perpetual grump than I do for the eternal optimist.
Now, optimism is wonderful—provided it isn't "performed" with excessive, jittery energy—and I certainly don't have an issue with it when it's genuine. For instance, I tend to be the resident grouch in my household, while my husband is always in high spirits, and we function together beautifully. It’s not that I’m constantly complaining or venting, nor is he walking around shouting about how "absolutely maaaaagnificent" life is; we actually behave quite similarly, though he simply worries far less about everything than I do. And that works for us.
But I have noticed a real struggle for me when dealing with that specific crowd—those who are constantly laughing loudly and performatively, offering incessant compliments, or incessantly prattling on about how incredible their weekend was. These are the people who seem to find everyone likable and will never, ever admit that something is bothering them. I’ve observed that these types rarely actually listen when others are speaking. Instead, they might spend the conversation checking their reflection in a window or interrupting a deep thought just to give the most insincere, overly cheery wave to someone passing by the table. To them, every concert is a masterpiece, regardless of how terrible the sound system actually is.
I realize this might sound harsh, and please believe me, I don't consider myself superior—I just value sincerity. Sometimes I truly wonder how much room these people leave themselves to experience actual, raw emotion. I once lived in an American community where almost everyone behaved this way, and it seemed like half the population was seeing a therapist multiple times a week. Not to mention the prevalence of stress-related issues like ulcers or tumors. I honestly find it difficult to believe they aren't just performing, and as a result, I generally avoid being in their orbit. Perhaps I'm just out of touch, but there it is.🙂
Are there any others out there who feel the same way?
The "always happy" types... I know one guy just like that. Everything is a joke to him, he's always smiling, knows everyone in town, just pure energy... "lifts" the room everywhere he goes. Those types usually have nothing but shallow connections. Instead of facing their own baggage, they surround themselves with "distraction people." I doubt they even realize that this forced positivity is actually a red flag for something much darker. Probably when that guy is finally alone at home, he feels that sting of loneliness and realizes how empty it all is. But what choice does he have the next day? Either step out of that bubble, break down, and actually grow, or keep going because it's become his programmed way of living. He's pushed past 30 doing things exactly like this. At this rate, I wouldn't be surprised if he ends up turning to drugs just to keep that grin up. People who are always "on" are often the ones who can't stand being alone with themselves, making them maybe the saddest of all... because they can't define that sadness, let alone accept it or feel it. Ironically, they're the loneliest of the bunch, surrounded by a sea of superficiality. They can't offer depth to anyone else because they don't have any for themselves.
Look, I can't really control my mood—it’s all on me. Honestly? I'm neither a total grouch nor some relentless optimist. I stopped trying to put labels on myself a long time ago once I realized life isn't just black and white. I’m a realist—that's my thing now. I get that you can't have the highs without the lows. Some days I'm down, some days I'm stoked, sometimes I'm just pissed off. At work, though, you won't see any of that because being a pro is huge for me. I've got my own way of balancing things out since I usually need to keep a smile on my face for clients. If I'm not feeling particularly bubbly, I'll just pivot the conversation toward something more serious so nobody notices I'm having an off day. I refuse to fake it—if I start acting, it's not me anymore, and that's a recipe for failure.
Those people who are always "on"—like I mentioned, they act happy because they think that's what society demands. They become "perpetually cheerful" just to fit in or to run away from their own issues.
Bottom line: people who are always smiling aren't actually happy. I'd love to help them find some actual peace of mind, but you can't help someone who refuses to admit there's a problem. They've convinced themselves this is just who they are, and they don't even realize they're performing. It doesn't bother me when other people struggle or how they vent about it—actually, that's exactly what those "always happy" types do. But I don't hang out with people like that. They aren't my vibe, and I can't stand watching someone lie to themselves. Then again, I rarely go out much anyway, so I'm probably not the best person to be preaching to anyone.
I’ve got these hazy visions of where I’ll be in ten years—maybe even twenty, honestly. But truthfully? I mostly just focus on what’s right in front of me, maybe a two-year window. That’s about as far ahead as I can really look without getting lost in the weeds. And since I don't really stick to one rigid "end goal," my plans kind of evolve as I go.
Since I’m checking off today’s goals specifically to set up my future (one step at a time), you could say I’m technically planning about a decade out. That said, I'm totally fine with things shifting—whether it's my own interests, the vibe in the US, or just how the world is spinning—and letting my plans pivot accordingly, even if my core passions stay the same. Planning is great and all, but being able to roll with the punches and make the most of whatever situation you're in? That's the real key.
Carl Rivera43 said:I used to idealize things mostly because I was naive and lacked experience, plus I waited far too long on certain things.
To be honest, when you idealize someone, you never really see them for who they truly are. Yeah, I've come up with some new ideas, and maybe soon those will turn into actual decisions to carry myself differently in relationships—especially when things start feeling cold {you know, life-wise, not the weather}.
I’m guessing you know exactly what you’re looking for and how to pick through what's "on the table." I’ve noticed that a lot of people who seem "cold" aren't actually cold at all—it’s just their defense mechanism. How do I know? Because I’ve tried meeting that coldness with enough warmth and patience until they finally open up. It takes a ton of energy, though. To be honest, most people seem cold to me at first glance.
Random thought here—I noticed that people from South America are incredibly warm, so much so that I found myself backing down just because they were so open and easy with positive vibes. On the flip side, people from Northern Europe, for example, seemed super distant and detached. But then, you get those crisis moments where you see someone's true colors—not just big emergencies, but the little things that show how they treat others. I'll admit, while they seemed cold initially, in those situations, they showed way more empathy, composure, and common sense.
So, using that as a broad example, there really are no rules. Idealism and being naive go hand in hand; we need them to get burned sometimes, just so we can actually learn the lessons.
As for love... you mentioned that romantic love is just one part of the universal kind and isn't as vital. I don't quite get that, mostly because my mindset is that every single piece has to work perfectly for the whole thing to function. If love itself is meant to be this pure, universal embodiment of everything—then every part of it has to be equally important. Then again, some people don't even count romantic love as "love" at all; they don't need it, and for them, the concept of love is built from entirely different pieces.
That's why I couldn't tell you which type of love is "stronger" or "more important" in general. I used to be convinced that parental love was the strongest force on earth, but then one of my parents walked away—chose not to fight their fears, chose to run from everything, even from their love for their kids. So, what am I supposed to say? It’s subjective. The most important love is whichever one makes you feel the safest.
Man, I’ve definitely had those moments where I thought about just expecting absolutely nothing from life. But honestly? That feels a little too pessimistic for me.
When it comes to love, I don't buy the idea that unrequited feelings are always because you don't love yourself enough. Isn't it more likely that emotions just get way too intense sometimes? You fail, it hurts, and suddenly you start putting someone on a pedestal. It’s all just this messy, complicated cycle—kind of like a circus, right?
I rarely take big risks. And even when I do? Usually, it just ends in disappointment, which makes me lean back toward my pessimistic side.
You call it pessimism, I call it being realistic.🙂 That doesn't mean people aren't awesome or capable of good and bad... it just means I give them the space to be themselves first. That way, I can actually decide if we click or not—and vice versa.
If you're idealizing someone, that's not harmony between your head and your heart, right? And honestly, who cares if they're "perfect" if they don't want you? Or why does it matter if you accept them if they don't accept you? If you're pouring energy into someone and getting zero back, *that's* what I call a lack of self-love. Especially if it drags on forever—I get the infatuation part, and it's rare to read someone perfectly right away, let alone know how they feel. But if it keeps going even after you realize the truth...
Whenever I *did* take a risk, I usually ignored every single red flag in the moment. No weighing options, no calculating outcomes—just going for it. Personally, I don't see anything wrong with being a pessimist, an optimist, or a realist... whatever. As long as that person owns it and doesn't try to force someone else to change.
Jeffrey Ramos4 said:Maybe you just don't have the right approach. You aren't meeting people on their own level. Socializing and communication are skills, after all. They can be practiced.
Unfair? What would you even do if you had more than one? Death is the great equalizer. It’s the only true justice because, in the end, we all face it the same way.
An individual's values are part of their ego. Even the act of judging things stems from the ego. How else can you define what is "high quality" outside of your own individuality? You can't. What exists beyond the personal ego is how other people perceive us. That doesn't mean you shouldn't have a sense of self; it just means you shouldn't let your ego do all the evaluating.
For people buried under responsibilities, the weekend might be the only time they actually get to rest. Though, even that's a stretch since so many people work weekends or are tied up with family and kids...
Really, nobody? There are so many unloved kids, elderly people, those struggling with illness... And besides, love isn't just about romantic passion, which—let's be honest—is just as overrated as sex.
You don't love someone just to get something in return. Intense emotions often happen because a person isn't paying enough attention to their own logic. Feelings aren't the only thing that connects us to another human being. In fact, they can actually be harmful if people don't know how to manage or even understand them...
Can you walk me through how the multi-quota thing works? Alright, let me break down what I was actually getting at with some examples. Ego (the bad kind)—saying stuff like, "I'm such an amazing cook, everyone raves about my food." Reality—that same person cooks just okay, doesn't even enjoy it, doesn't have the drive, and barely tries... mostly because they aren't even that good at it. But instead of admitting that to themselves, they opt for that first statement. In my book, that’s evaluating yourself through the lens of ego (the toxic version). Value—looking objectively at your actual skills and what you can really do. Ego shouldn't play any part here, whether we're talking healthy or unhealthy. To me, a healthy ego shows up when you show yourself love based on a realistic view of who you are as a person in relation to yourself and others... acknowledging your flaws and actually accepting them. That cooking example could be swapped out for anything—knowing how to love someone or any other core value that makes a person who they are. A healthy, self-aware person. So, in my head, it's split into two types of ego, which is why I didn't dive deeper since there wasn't much else to say. And honestly, I see valuing others as a tool—a way to step outside your own ego. But the question is, which "others" are we talking about, and how objectively are they looking at me? Like, are they measuring me against their own standards? Do you really think it's possible to be objective about yourself without some outside perspective "interfering"?
As for the other part... I thought it was pretty obvious that there are layers to love beyond just "romantic partner" stuff. That's been logical to me since I was a kid—I guess I just assumed everyone saw it that way. I never specifically said "romantic love," I just said love. I haven't overvalued any specific type, and sex is driven by instinct, so it's not even in the same conversation. Especially since everyone's libido is different, so your take on that is purely subjective. Unloved kids might have friends, maybe a grandma or grandpa. Older folks might have people in their lives too—do I really need to go into more detail than that? Bottom line: if you have absolutely no one on this planet that you want to love, or anyone who loves you back, is it even possible to live unselfishly?
We could probably spiral into a whole debate about whether unconditional love is even possible in the long run.
Yeah, look—the heart feels things, but the brain calculates the risks. That’s why you need both working in sync. To me, ignoring your gut just to play it safe with logic feels like a lack of self-trust—like you're scared you won't make the right call and end up getting hurt. Personally, I see every decision as a building block; whether it builds you up or tears you down is totally up to you. It’s easy for me to look at it that way because I’ve always been a high roller—maybe even too much for some people's liking.
Sorry, but I don't really buy into the idea of unrequited love, mostly because I don't think unconditional love exists (long-term) anyway. To me, unrequited love is just a lack of self-love in that moment when you realize they don't feel the same, yet you still cling to those feelings.
Fate? Man, I think it's fifty-fifty. Fate hands you the cards, but you're the one playing them. Sometimes you don't wait for fate to knock—you just go out and grab what you want. I think we build our own character and how we face life, while fate is more like a "guidebook" to help make sense of everything. The ratio of "good" to "bad" stuff is pretty much equal, but we get to decide which side we prioritize. That kind of balance—plus trusting yourself (which leads to loving yourself)—is what makes someone truly magnetic.
For me, it’s an on-and-off thing. One minute I feel totally at peace, like I trust myself and anything is possible... then the next, I’m hit with how vulnerable and uncertain everything actually feels in this world. To fight that fear, I try to be as open as I can—as long as the other person doesn't see it as a threat. Some might see that as a risk, but for me, it's my defense mechanism—the more I give, the more at peace I am, knowing I can handle the fallout if it all goes south. My best hack? Stop expecting anything from anyone. No expectations, no disappointments. For example—I don't expect you to reply to this just because "it's the polite thing to do" or because I would have done it. So, if you decide to ghost, there's zero disappointment on my end. Stopping the habit of measuring everyone else by your own standards is tough. But if you pull it off, it opens up a whole new level of personal growth.