Brute force is only inelegant if you don’t use enough of it!
A lot of people view fairytales as unjust. Because, they say, only beautiful characters are good. I think I see this the other way around: fairytales are just (and the world is unjust). In fairytales, as far as I can tell, everybody good gets to be beautiful.
I propose a new turn of phrase: for the bigger. Changing for the bigger is like changing for the better, but instead of improving, you just grow. Some sample usages:
The fantasy genre has really changed for the bigger in the past ten years. So much low quality fantasy is at my fingertips right now! When I was a kid, there was hardly any available.
My new diet has truly changed me for the bigger.
Ah! It was all real! There is a great happiness in me at knowing that; it’s like flowers blooming inside of my chest. How wonderful! The world is so much bigger than I thought.
I’m often afraid I’ll ask too much of you. That I already do. You’re so impassive! Well, I’m so effusive. But there are only the two of us in our relationship, so it amounts to the same thing.
I worry I will scare you away with all my outbursts. Conversely, I worry you will lose interest in me unless I can keep performing, emotionally. I worry! But I know not to expect my brain to be perfect, so I am okay with this.
Thanks for suspending disbelief for me, guys! To be clear, I don’t really believe this stuff either.
I realized today how much you see me as the grownup in our relationship. I appreciate that. I’m so glad that you trust my authority. That you don’t view my struggles as shortcomings. That you look up to me.
They’re big shoes to fill, grownup shoes. Just today I asked for something of yours and you refused me because you didn’t know how badly I needed it. I could have told you. I didn’t. Because I…don’t want to ask too much of you. (You had just done me a bit of a favor at the time.)
But it hurt that you couldn’t just tell, and weren’t thinking about it. I wish you thought about what I need.
And yet, how can I ask that of you?
How? It’s not a rhetorical question; tell me how! I wish I knew the words that would mean this to you: I need a grownup too. Please, be my grownup for a little while. Please grow up a little for me.
I’m really grateful to have read [favorite book from childhood] when I did. It was and is so beautiful. And I’m grateful You gave me that kind of model for my writing when I was so young. I’m still laboring to live up to it; it was an excellent book.
But it was also just what I needed. Which is awful! Because it was a screwed up book too–far more screwed up than I realized at the time. Not in a bad way. In a good way. [Favorite book] captured life, You know? But, still, I shouldn’t have needed it!
When I think of [favorite book], a sense of loss wells up in my chest. A sense of loss like pneumonia. And all I can do is keep from coughing–keep from telling [author] and [childhood friend who also read favorite book]. Because it would only hurt them.
It’s hurting me instead, God. [Some friend of mine] says that’s stupid. Well, sorry, [some friend of mine]. I think you’re the one being stupid in this case.
You know food is bad when the name of the food tells you how to feel about it.
Surprise. Delight. Mystery. These are all warnings. Why are you telling me to engage my sense of wonder and mystery? Why are you warning me that I’ll be surprised? Why do I need to be told?
I have made an entire life approach of putting things off! Much as I suspect they don’t, I hope that your feelings of horror border on respect.