Killjoy…we’ve all heard the term, but have we ever really thought about what it truly means?
I grew up with a killjoy—a destroyer of happiness—but at the time I didn’t recognize her for what she was. After all, she was my mother, so I loved and trusted her, as most children do their parents.
It wasn’t until I was older, and had left home, that I finally recognized the negativity that my mother created around her, especially in response to anyone’s happy news or accomplishments.
Here’s an example of what I mean: when I was about 9 or 10, the local paper ran a contest. You were supposed to write a story about your pet, and why they were the best pet in the world. The first prize was getting your story printed in the paper and a plaque. Well, my mother proceeded to tell me how stupid I was to try to win; how I was only going to get hurt when I lost; how no one in our family ever won anything; and how I shouldn’t come running to her when I lost and (therefore) felt miserable.
Despite her doom and gloom, I wrote my story and sent it in. I tried not to have too high of hopes of winning (some of my mother’s naysaying having rubbed off on me), but deep down I prayed fervently that my mother was wrong, and I would win. So, when the letter came saying I was winner, I was ecstatic. I danced around my room and my smile was so broad it practically split my face. I couldn’t wait to show my mother how wrong she had been. I raced down the stairs, letter in hand, and beaming proudly, I handed it to my mom.
But instead of the happy congratulations that I expected, I got a lecture on how I won because I was probably the only one who spelled everything correctly or because they felt sorry for me. She then proceeded to tell me how inconsiderate I was because now she would have to take time away from her busy day (a day she always spent at home, since she was a stay-at-home mom) to drive me down to the newspaper office to get my plaque.
Well, the story was printed, and I did get my plaque, but I never got a congratulations from my mother.
My mother was a 4th level, 3rd cycle scholar-cast server, a cynic (negative pole) with a goal of stagnation (negative pole) in observation with a chief feature of greed (negative pole). This meant that no matter what, her initial instinct was to denigrate everyone and everything. So, anytime you had good news, she was going to be a killjoy. And rather than recognize that trait and try to change it, she simply told everyone she was being a devil’s advocate and a realist when secretly she was making herself feel better by making you feel worse.
As the years went by, my mother’s behavior never changed. If you had some happy news, she made sure that you felt absolutely miserable, depressed, and regretful about it. Therefore, I learned never to share my happy news with my mother until long after the fact. That way, she couldn’t destroy that first flush of euphoria you get when you initially receive the news about whatever “it” is—a promotion, an engagement, a new couch, or just having a great day.
When my mother died, I really never expected to encounter anyone like her again—someone who could spoil any happiness—a killjoy. Boy, was I wrong.
I had finally gotten my books published and was working like crazy to create a website on which to make them available to people. I had spent several months designing, coding, and testing my website, and when it was truly done, I couldn’t wait to tell everyone I knew about it. It wasn’t just that the books (which I was also proud of) were now available (though that was a big part of it), but it was also the fact that I had worked so hard on putting together the website itself. I was proud of all that I had accomplished, and I wanted my friends to know it and share my happiness with me.
So, I scribbled out an email and sent it out to everyone I knew, telling them all about my great accomplishment and inviting them to come and check out my new website. Most of the responses were positive and encouraging, but one wasn’t. One person just had to be a killjoy.
He just couldn’t let me be happy. This killjoy had to do his best to destroy my moment; to take away the happiness and pride in my accomplishment that I had. What was even worse than his snide and nasty comments that he sent to me, was that he also sent emails to many of our mutual acquaintances and friends saying unkind (and untrue) things about me and my work.
He not only took away my happiness, but he killed it publicly, and, at the same time, he tried to destroy the respect my friends had for me. Now some of my “friends” believed him and his negative, killjoy attitude, but many of them didn’t, and I’m glad.
Again, part of his rejection and nihilism was the negative pole of cynicism, but this person also had to deal with the negative poles of rejection (prejudice) and impatience (intolerance). He simply found it too difficult to be happy for others with all those negative poles driving him. So, rather than fight against them, he simply gave into the fear they created in him.
For him and those who wish to believe his killjoy attitude, I can only say, I’m sorry—because it must be hard to live with such negativity and fear. But at least now that I know what type of person he is, I can avoid him and his disparaging remarks and poor attitude. After all, there is enough negativity in the world already, so, I’d rather interact with those whose attitudes are a bit more upbeat, a bit more supportive.
To find out how to cope with those troublesome people in your life or to discover how to improve your family dynamics and personal relationships, read the award-winning book, Choices.
Tas Readings 