Stop Telling Me To Calm Down!

August 13, 2015 — 92 Comments

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I am not a calm person.

I suck in a crisis. When my kid is sick, I put on a fake calm facade, smiling bravely while I dial the pediatrician, all the while internally chanting “OMG he’s gonna die, OMG he’s gonna die…”

I barely survived September 11. Was I calm? NOT EVEN A TINY BIT. I cried, lost my shit and just generally acted like it was my last day on earth. Which I thought it was.

Calm? I wish I’d gotten my hands on a Colt M16 assault rifle. I would have gone all “Say hello to my little friend” on those motherfuckers who were trampling me to death while we tried to evacuate a building in midtown Manhattan.

Hurricane Sandy was yet another opportunity to be so NOT calm. To my credit, I started out calm – after all, I have a kid, But by the third day of no power, people began ripping off the little generators that everyone had humming on their front lawns. Now I had to buy an industrial sized chain to secure my generator to the house, that pathetic generator I could barely heat up soup with.



I’ve just started playing guitar again, for the first time in years, and my fingertips are getting torn up. One of my bestest blogging buddies, who shall go unnamed, although *cough cough* she’s from England and her name rhymes with “frizzy,” suggested I put superglue on them.

Does she not KNOW me? This sounds like a disaster waiting to happen.

I have a meditating frog yoga statue thingey in my back yard, and its toe had cracked off. I decided I would be all DIY and repair that, in addition to fortifying my fingertips, since purchasing a tube of Loctite 495 made me a superglue expert.

But I left the glue out without the cap on overnight, and a hard glue booger had ossified at the top. I had to pry that sucker  off with a safety-pin, and when I did, a glue geyser came spurting out like the money shot in a porno flick. Glue went everywhere. I had a frog’s toe glued to my fingertips, some of which got glued together, and I was VERY NOT CALM ABOUT THIS.

It’s really hard to Google “how do you remove superglue” with your nipples. FYI.


I’ve had a couple of online friends tell me they didn’t like the way I talk to them.

I’M FROM NEW YORK. Saying “fuck you, motherfucker!” is like saying “hello!” I type “mot” into my phone, and it auto fills in “motherfucker.” Not even “mother.” It goes right to the “fucker.”

When I’m upset, excited, happy, angry, when I’m just about ANYTHING, I go BIG. I don’t know if that’s simply my innate temperament, or a byproduct of growing up in New York. And I’m never just upset. I’m DEVASTATED. I’m not hungry, I’m STARVING. I don’t have a headache, it’s A BRAIN TUMOR AND I’M GOING TO DIE.

People know that about me. Most people are just used to it. In many situations, it can be a fabulous thing. For example, when we were on the birthday party circuit, that parade from hell that never ends, I was a welcome guest. Because I never sat on the sidelines with the other moms. I dove into those ball pits and bouncy castles with the kids. Have you ever read in the news about elementary school children murdering one another in a bouncy castle in New Jersey? Exactly. Your welcome. 

My kid is not even embarrassed anymore. He’s just so used to my exuberance he doesn’t even flinch at karate competitions when I scream “KICK HIS ASS!” He actually asked me to volunteer every year at his school’s field day, because I screamed and hollered until I was hoarse, cheering on all the kids. By name. Especially the ones whose parents weren’t there.

I have a big personality. This is sometimes used as code for “is annoying as fuck,” “freaks out if she isn’t the center of attention,” “has big tits.”

I may fall into the first two categories, but certainly not intentionally. I just tend to experience things very strongly, and express my feelings. I’m passionate about the things I love, the things I hate, and most things in between. I’ll stop the car to throw my kid out if he’s rude, but I’m just as likely to stop and pull over for us to look at a beautiful sunset.


My BIG personality does not translate well electronically. If I’m disagreeing with someone via text or messenger, “Fuck you, you’re an asshole! I hate you!” does not bode well with the person on the other end. Those words come off much more aggressively when typed.

In real life, I’ve used the exact same words. But the person can tell, by my body language, my tone, my intonation, that what I’m saying is, “This is getting us nowhere! Can we just agree to disagree? Now let’s go take a shower together. If you’re nice to me, I’ll blow you.”


That’s another thing. Do you want a nice calm blowjob,the kind that’s so relaxed I fall asleep doing it? I’ll bet not. And I wonder – do those really calm women, the ones who are so quiet and even tempered and unemotional (wait, are there any women like that?), do they flip a switch and go wild in bed? THAT’S a nice little fantasy. Now just make her a mute with a degree in cooking from Le Cordon Bleu Culinary Institute while we’re at it. Knock out a few of those pesky teeth that get in the way, and voila! The perfect woman.


So DON’T tell me to calm down. I don’t WANT to be calm. As much as I wish for that kind of chill demeanor when to have it would be beneficial, I’d rather be the expressive, passionate, exuberant person I am.

I can always dial myself down a little. But those calm, low-key people with the energy level of potted plants – they’re gonna have a hell of a time trying to dial it UP.

You might think I’m too much. Maybe, you’re not enough?


Do you know people who are naturally calm? Are they on something? Is my personality super annoying? Be honest.
Talk to me. I’m listening. 


92 responses to Stop Telling Me To Calm Down!


    It’s like we’re cut from the same cloth. Motherfucker.


    I’m very passionate about certain things and realize not everyone else can handle full Ann emotions. I try to temper it but don’t always – and sometimes I just don’t want to and let it go. I can be rather intense. I prefer to be with people who feel big feelings – I think passion is a great thing. Quiet people make me nervous.


    I like it :):):)


    This just means your very passionate, something a lot lack.


    Oh but I like that you are not calm. Don’t bother being calm. It takes a toll.
    And say hi to Frizzy from England. 😉


    My kinda girl! If it’s worth doing, feeling or saying – do it BIG


    Precious. My darling. At NO POINT did I recommend leaving the lid off. Or trying to glue other things. Or typing with your nipples (tho if you tried, you should have vlogged it).

    Anyway. I love you however you are, and OY! with the ‘enough’.


    I tend to get a little excitable from time to time. I have always found the new agey speak philosophy of maintaining a placid demeanor in the face of turmoil or upset such a pile of complete bullshit. So the end goal is to become a robot? No thanks motherfucker. Go fuck a bag of sand. I always found that having an elevated emotional reaction to a situation that warrents such a reaction to be a fantastic affirmation of life. So fuck those robot motherfuckers and their early onset heart disease from keeping all that shit inside.


      I CONCUR!
      But what about having elevated emotional reactions to situations that DON’T necessarily warrant it?
      That might be me.
      (“go fuck a bag of sand” hahahahaha eww)


        Why are you yelling? Calm the fuck down. Hahahaha. Yeah, I see your point. Too much can be too much but I also come from an Irish Canadian community where everyone is loud and proud so I’m fairly comfortable with this. Now if you’ll excuse me I have to go apply some slutty lipstick to a sandbag. Meooooowww.


    Instead of “big bloggy love” I’m just going to start saying “fuck you,” if you’re okay with that?
    Hell, even if you aren’t okay with it, fuck you.


    I can do calm. Except when I’m hungry. Or tired. Or have an idea I HAVE TO TELL YOU RIGHT NOW, or listening to good music, or in a political argument, or thinking about a political argument, or on deadline, or playing scrabble, or competing in anything I have any hope of winning for that matter, or when my kid says something stupid, or rude, or awesome … otherwise, I’m tres calm.


    I kind of fucking LOVE your personality! You are the living embodiment of all the shit in my head that I can’t say because I work in a “childcare facility”. Plus I’m cracking up right now because you and a friend of mine from Michigan both use “walla”. Don’t take this the wrong way since you’re both frickin awesome in totally opposite ways but it’s “voila”, bitches!! *drops mic* *runs away covering head for fear of offending* 😉
    PS “Michigan” is sweet and calm-as-FUCK but she’s not on meds and definitely doesn’t use “hemp product” to chillax. She’s either crazy zen or… I don’t know what.


      I actually changed it to “Voila!” – I do quite a bit of editing once the post is up.

      Maybe, people from Michigan are just LIKE that? I don’t know. We’re east coast urban people, what is that, the Midwest or something? Those people are very…polite.


        She insists on spelling it that way because it’s how she says it. Drives the mostly quiet grammar-nazi in me a little cray-cray. Makes me wonder if all the unspoken “WTF!s” will start to shave years off my life or add gray hair to my head…


        My grammar Nazi is loud and annoying. The worst is when people speak bad grammar. I go nuts. My Ex says shit like, “had went.” I die.


        Hahaha! Like my crazy Greek ex used to say “If I was me…”; but at least that one gave us an excuse to laugh in his face so, WIN!


    The hubs (and ANYONE that knows me) knows the sure way for me to knock them the fuck out is to tell me to calm down. Or ask if I’m mad… me going completely quite shouldn’t let them know!
    I think you’re awesome chick. I’d rather know people like you than uptight assholes any day!


    Reblogged this on ohthejoysofparenthood and commented:


    I love people with big personalities and big emotions. I’ll tell you my little secret. I’m a chill person until you really get to know me. Then I let all the craziness out. But I have to be real comfortable with you or sense that you’re the type that can handle it. Sigh… it’s a lifetime of observing and trying to not upset or annoy other people. (It’s the whole premise of my BeReal post I’m doing for Hasty).

    Anyways, this comment is no fun and is totally bringing you down right now. I fucking LOVE you and all your big weird crazy emotions and feels and dramatics! Don’t ever change girlie, if they can’t handle it they can go try to blow themselves in the shower! MWAH!


    Overflowing with fire.
    SMART as hell.
    The epitome of New York kick your ASS.
    Gentle & Kind.
    I just really, really love you.
    Who are you, anyhow?



      Kim. You really nailed it. I’m so many different things, depending on the situation.
      I have a feeling you’re very much the same, which is why we connect.
      Love you. xoxoxoox


    Omg! What an excellent, impassioned post! I hate when people try to “soothe” and console, when sometimes I WANT to be and stay angry or excited or whatever. You said it perfectly.


    You’re not too much! You’re just right like in the Goldilocks. Sorry (not sorry) for the cheesiness. Pain meds all week. 🙂 still, you are the best!


    nice discussion ☻


    You are a motherfucking bad ass. I can’t even tell you how awesome you are. I admire your no guts, no glory ‘tude and your fierce defense of every person you love. You rock.


    Why would anyone ever tell you (or anyone else) to calm down? It always produces the opposite of the desired effect.


    Hey motherfucker – fuck off and calm down. Get the glue off your fingers, stay out of hurricanes and buy a new frog. Then you’ll be all right. 😉 ( I’m ex-military – motherfuckerz don’t bother me at all. 😉 )


    I tell my friends often that I truly believe my mother fucked my dad at the mouth of an erupting volcano when I was conceived. I’ve spent a lifetime trying to get back into the volcano. So, ditto for me on the not being a calm person. It gets me into trouble in the excess so I’ve been meditating and doing yoga for many years to bring it down a notch. In summer the energy is high and many days I jump off my meditation cushion and say “fuck this, I need to go for a run!”


    Samara, I love you just the way you are! Don’t change! i love your sparkling, energetic personality. Sorry about your glued fingers. Damn! I stay away from that superglue. Honestly, I bet there are more people that want to be like you than you can imagine. I’ve always been soft spoken. Even when I try to yell, unless I’m really mad, people can’t hear me! People might mistake that for being a potted plant, but it’s not true. Interesting how this can kind of go both ways. Anyway, be you! That’s the important thing. xox


    I am pretty sure the two of us would and could be annoying as fuck together. I loved this post, felt like I got to know you a little bit better. ❤


    I’m definitely not calm. I have a terrible temper. A “hair trigger” my ex-husband used to call it. I’ve been told I “lash out.” Whatever. Fucking accept it. I am however, strangely calm in a crisis. I handle crisis well. I’m all fucked up.


    Yes please to the blowjob. 😛

    Great post. X


    Who is this Frizzy you speak of? The super-glue idea until guitar callouses come in is brilliant. I’m doing it. My catch-22 with the guitar — I have to be all in. Because if I pick it up once in a while, each time is like the first time and that fricking hurts!

    I’m good at not panicking at the big stuff, but the little stuff?! I’m “famished,” “mortified,” “frozen,” “broken.”

    It’s not nice to tell people “Maybe you’re not enough?” but I laughed my ass off. Does that make me not nice? Also, I’m kidding.


    Don’t listen to ‘frizzy.’ You need those callouses on your fingertips. Superglue. The coward’s way out.

    Wow. I’ll bet you’re a handful. Drama Queen and all. But I bet you’re not boring. Boring is deadly. Easily brought to a boil can come in handy. And I beg your pardon but your personality comes across as huge electronically. So stop worrying about that.


      Wait, my personality comes across huge electronically? Meaning, even online folks can tell I just do everything BIG???

      If I recall, you have a weakness for drama queens. Intense, neurotic, dangerous, exciting, a little crazy. That summed up all the women you lusted after in the 90’s. Am I right?


        Don’t fret. Big is better. Small goes home alone. Don’t ask me how I know.

        Intense, neurotic, dangerous, exciting a little crazy = ACTRESSES. So, that would be a big yes. I had a few run-ins.

        I have an answer for your last email. It’s all easily explained. 😉


        Of course it all makes sense that I was an aspiring actress for 15 years. I loved that life. But it was impossible to have any security. No wonder we’re all insecure messes.

        I’m going to email you now. I wanted to ask your opinion about something. And you’re so wise…


        That’s very flattering and I’m always willing to render an opinion but please don’t confuse wise for the ability to talk a good game.


        I adore you and your humble attitude. What else is there besides game?


        P.S. I have a new post from my journals. I feel funny notifying you but you implied you wanted to be pinged. But I can never tell when someone is just being polite.


    Ah yes, I remember both 9/11 and Sandy from a similar perspective. I had relatives all in the area that day & my cousin worked in the 2nd tower. I just about lost my shit that day. I was in history class ironically when I heard the news.

    Sandy, don’t get me started. I think I cursed some of the same things you did. Our building almost got set ablaze by a blown transformer. I was panicking. By the 3rd day, I felt like we were in the dark ages. Our apartment was freezing with nothing but candles to see shit. My son, thankfully was too young to understand what was going on – but he was looking at me like “Mom, why are you heating up & boiling everything on some strange contraption?” Poor kid was scared because it was so dark. When that power kicked back on, I heard everyone cheering for blocks. It was like we’d all just been told we won money or some shit. “yess!!! YESS! The light!!!!”
    But I do not miss stores not having food, fearing having to protect my family, etc.
    I was ready to go all samurai sword woman on the first person that tried to come in & hurt us/steal from us.


    P.S. To answer your question: I don’t find you annoying at all. I like intense personalities. I get along with those the most. 😀 Besides, you crack me up & you’re a sweetheart.

    I know calm people but some of them probably are on something. Haha. The really zen ones, I dunno how the fuck they do it…


    I wouldn’t like you any other way.

    Me? I think I fall in the chill category, but I’m a different kind of chill. I still speak my mind and do things my way, I’m just doing it in maybe a creepy, introverted, but sarcastic and twitchy kinda way. This might be why I don’t have many friends. *food for thought* That said, my husband says when I make cracks about people my voice carries more than I think.


    “Fucking calm the fuck down”–would that work? I really liked the part about rooting for the kids who didn’t have parents at the events.


      Oh, wow. You’re the first person who’s mentioned it. Thank you for that. Yep, I’m loud and obnoxious but sometimes it fits the situation. My kid told me that every year, the other kids would ask him, “Is your mom coming to field day?” xox


        Hey, I’m as cynical as they come, but I’m also a sucker for the old Reader’s Digest stories where the cat or dog that was rescued from the roadside was the same animal that later woke the family up to save them from the fire. Or the kid, who doesn’t get any attention at home, but does get some inspiration from friends or teachers (or a classmate’s mom). Jesus, it’s fucked to think that your cheering might’ve been the only encouragement that some of those kids had in a long time (or ever). Good for you, you thoughtful fucker. 🙂
        And I love (what I call) “the New York way”–where you tell people straight-up what you like or don’t like about ’em, instead of talking behind their back like people around here do.


    Fuck yeah, motherfucker.

    I have been told I am surprisingly boisterous for someone who identifies as a socially anxious introvert. I consider it my superpower, or maybe just a convenient diversion. Like a cloud of squid ink. Everyone’s too distracted by the aftermath of my wacky antics to see me crawling under the dining room table to hide.


    I loved this, Samara!
    I am what Gretchen ^^ said but have a hubby and BFF with the largest and loudest personalities evaaa.
    I’m drawn to people like you/them because I’m too f-ing chicken shit to be openly fabulous.
    If only you could hear my inside voices…oh wait…they have meds for that 🙂


    Oh my fornicator mata, what a to – do ::grinning::

    Superglue. Great stuff when you want to bond with someone. I’ve very effectively glued one of my hands to a tap and the other to a helpful lady in the past. Got to know her quite well. There are some things that you can’t do without hands.

    Enough said

    Moving away from the memory


    I’m actually a fairly calm person, so when I DO get riled up, I get pissed off when people tell me to calm down. WTF? I spend 99% of my time trying to get you to understand calmly and when you don’t, I get excited. You do you!

    Good luck with the guitar, with or without the superglue. I can’t manage to use the same bottle twice. I end up gluing the top shut every time.


      OMG the glue was a mess! I ended up with it everywhere! It did seem to help a little, but it’s not worth getting it all over my face and clothes!

      Thanks for reading and commenting!


    Talk about NYC people. I went to Jerusalem once. The people behind counters waiting on people, supposedly waiting on people, were as disastrous at helping people as you could get. Very NYC-ish. Bad attitudes. Bad. But they meant no harm. They were just being themselves. You grow up in a big city or fighting for your life, you forget about some of the motherfucking niceties in life. They had accents, too.


    Wouldja rev it up a bit, Samara? Jeez, you’re so calm around here lately. 😉

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