The 2015 Fuck It List: #12 Letting Peeps Track Their Ignorant Mess Into My House

Back in 2014, I posted my 2014 Fuck It List based on and inspired by this most excellent post:

Welcome to my Fuck It list. Fourteen things I’m going to stop giving a fuck about in 2014. Because, as important as it is to push yourself to be a healthier, more compassionate person, that can be downright impossible. Refusing to give a fuck, however, isn’t just easy — it’s kind of awesome.

{Prehistoric Amber} The Fuck It List: 2014 |

So fuck it. Here are the fourteen things I’m going to stop worrying about come 2014.

– 14 Fucks I Refuse To Give In 2014

This year, I’ve made a list of 15 Things I Refuse To Give a Fuck About In 2015 (capitalized, because it’s IMPORTANT). But instead of trying to write and post a huge massive manifesto all at once, I decided to instead break my list down into bite-sized pieces.

15 Fucks I Refuse To Give In 2015: #12 


Walking across the Hennepin Avenue Bridge on my way to work, I felt a lilt in my step as I turned my face up to the bright sun and blue skies that hung over Minneapolis. ‘Tis Twin Cities Pride, which fills my heart with Robyn-song-beats and makes me wanna sashay up and down the city streets. I don’t identify as LGBT, but my heart identifies with everyone who is. Being able to celebrate with my friends and support this community means everything to me.

Also, Peaches and Latrice Royale are in town this weekend, so. I mean. Of course.

Swinging into work, I thought about the tweet I was planning on posting – “What if we woke up tomorrow and the only scent left was CK One” – and laughed a little to myself as I logged in. Then, rainbows. RAINBOWS EVERYWHERE. Eyes wide with disbelief, I saw the news that the Supreme Court had, indeed, legalized gay marriage for all. Celebrations and declarations and congratulations burst forth from my friend’s statuses like so many glitter bombs and double rainbows. I dashed off my own happy declarations of celebration, and sat back and reveled in how happy it made me, to know so many friends who felt as joyous as I did over this spectacular, historic news.

It didn’t really strike me until about an hour later that I wasn’t seeing any dissent about the ruling on my Facebook or Twitter feeds, unless it was something that someone else had Retweeted from someone *they* knew.

And I was totally, totally okay with this. 

Over the past year, I’ve purposefully defriended or unfollowed people on my social media accounts who hold dissenting views on gay marriage, progressive gun control, reproductive rights, and the state of racism in this country. I’ve also happily banned those from my sight who have tried to rationalize or defend whatshisface from Duck Dynasty or the incest-spaining of the Duggar Family. Sometimes I wonder if I’m doing myself a disservice by only surrounding myself with people who agree with my particular world views. Isn’t debate healthy? Could one argue that I’m stifling my own mental, spiritual, and philosophical growth by insulating myself from those who disagree? That I am creating my own version of narrow-mindedness by refusing to remain open to different opinions and viewpoints on these topics?

Possibly. That argument does have some validity.

But I honestly no longer give a fuck what kind of perspective someone is taking when they try to limit gay rights. I no longer have any fucks to give when it comes to those who refuse to acknowledge that racism still exists. I do not want to know you if you buy and spread the double standard that black boys who get shot by cops are thugs but white boys who shoot up churches of black people were good, quiet boys who just “snapped.” I will gladly hide you if you scream at me about gun rights, because you could also say that “bombs don’t kill people; people kill people” but you sure as fuck do not see Walmart selling bombs to every Tom, Dick, and Larry who thinks the constitution gives him the unassailable, unrestricted right to carry one around when and if he wants to. I will happily say “fuck it” to our FB friendship if you believe that women do not have the right to decide what happens to their own bodies – and that goes for rape, abortion, birth control, incest, sexual assault, sex-shaming, cat-calling, the male gaze, publicizing nipple slips, and leaking nude pics. I will kindly click “I don’t want to see posts from ___” if you try to support the Confederate Flag or the name and mascot of Washington NFL Team by trying to defend why they’re tradition vs. racist (or why they’re not racist anymore).

I’m not hiding you because I want to remain willfully ignorant of other world views and political opinions. I’m not hiding you because I want to feel safe and cocooned in the belief that everyone else out there is just like me.

I’m hiding you because I want to be happy.

Because, sometimes, a lot of times, social media is a break for me – a happy, GIF-filled break where I get to laugh at comedy and gush at friends and gently rib family members and share rad things that are happening in my immediate community and wider world. I do not want to see posts that fill me with rage or despair or grief for how cruel and ignorant and privileged my fellow humans can be. I can get that shit from any news network or publication in the world if I so choose. And sometimes, it all comes down to wanting to still like a pal I knew in high school or keep a fondness for a cousin, which works out to be that much easier to do if I’m not willfully subjecting myself to personal views so steeped in ignorance and privilege that I know I’ll never change them, no matter how much I might like to try. It’s much easier for me to accept and love others if I’m not forced to continually rage out on the shit that makes me want to not love and accept them. 

And, like The Bloggess said in her most excellent post yesterday, this is my house. That’s how I think of my Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, and blog feeds…it’s where I live on the internet. And in 2015, I’ve said Fuck It when it comes to allowing others to track their racist, bigoted, sexist, or otherwise willfully ignorant mess into my house. Not even in the name of friendship, family, or “open-mindedness.” That shit is busted, and my house is beautiful. It doesn’t belong there. And if you try to bring it in, I will graciously but firmly usher you out.

To end:

HAPPY PRIDE, EVERYBODY! Get out there and love somebody. 



Want more posts like this one? Dig into some of the archives here and here. Your beautiful house will thank you for it. 

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About Amber L.

Hi! I'm Amber. I've been telling stories with books and blogs since 2004. I also spent 10 years working as a behavior therapist, which I now put to proper use by publishing thought pieces and dissertations on '80s pop music and the defining TV shows of our current times ('The Bachelor', 'Vanderpump Rules', etc). I can also be credited with single-handedly ruining the city of Portland, OR just by moving here.

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