Dear People who write open letters,
Hi there, hope you don’t mind me contacting you out of the blue like this, I know you’re busy up there on your high horse but just thought I’d send you a letter as that seems to be your preferred method of correspondence.
I read with interest your recent letter to your friends who no longer contact you because you’ve had a baby. In that, you complain that you’re so busy with your new little bundle of joy that when you finally get to sit down at night and have 5 minutes to yourself you simply don’t have the will or inclination to text your friends. You say, I’m sure, with a heavy heart that it disappoints you that your childless friends don’t seem to accept that you have other priorities now. I’m sure your friends are over the moon for you and your new addition, but, if I were your friend, I would question how it looks that you maintain that you don’t have time to text your friends (which takes all of 3 seconds) yet you did have time to write a lengthy blog post about it.
I also took time to peruse your note to the woman in the park who asked you if your child was your eldest, to which you told her very kindly that your daughter wasn’t your eldest, you had a son who sadly passed away not long after he was born. In your letter you detailed how you felt this made the woman uncomfortable, she muttered she was sorry and then proceeded to ignore you. I accept that that probably sounded rude to you, but surely the non passive-aggressive thing to do would have been to continue chatting to her and make her feel more comfortable? Educate her that you don’t have a problem talking about your children, all of your children. Then you’re both left feeling better about the situation.
It did make me chuckle to see your note to the guy on the plane who had smelly feet and encroached on your personal space with them. I very much commend your use of the phrase ‘Satan’s Anus’ when describing the smell and shall be adopting that into my vernacular in future. I do question though, why you didn’t just lean over to said gentleman, and politely inform him that seeing as his feet did indeed smell like Beelzebub’s backside, he might consider moving them back to his own territory and away from your nose. Rather than put him on blast for the world to see.
I understand the sentiment, and since your letters above have gone viral (well done you!) it may serve as some kind of cautionary tale to others who may be considering not texting their friend who’s just had a baby, or ignoring the woman who wants to talk about the baby she’s lost, or getting on a plane without some degree of personal hygiene. I may sound insensitive, and please believe me when I say I think they are all legitimate issues, but you’ve put them on the internet, people are going to comment. What’s the likelihood of the people who have actually disgruntled you ever reading your letter? Pretty slim I reckon!
If you just addressed these situations with the person in question, you may be surprised at how responsive they are to the heads up. Then you wouldn’t get so wound up that you feel the need to vent it all down in a passive-aggressive letter. Saying that I have a friend who has chronically stinky feet – I accept that sometimes there really is no helping some people.
PS All the above aside, I loved your letter to the guy who called you fat in high school and now you’re mega hot and he’s an ugly troll who only gets to see his kids on weekends – that one was amazing!