Why You Could Use a Little More Douchebag In Your Life |

WHY YOU COULD USE A LITTLE MORE DOUCHEBAG IN YOUR LIFE.jpeg

He’s a very specific breed of self-absorbed jerk-off combined with Ryan Gosling-esque mystery and charm.

He sort of plays acoustic guitar, has a lot of strong opinions about fucking everything, and manages a bizarre combination of arrogance and self-deprecation. Like he openly admits that he’s an asshole, and even laughs about it. Which we (for some reason) find so endearing.

No…there’s nothing quite like a Douchebag, is there?

Yes - "Douchebag," with a capital "D".

He doesn’t care about us, our feelings, our lives, our friends, never remembers anything, and yet we remain bizarrely attracted. Chances are he’s too busy on Planet Douchebag to even notice. I mean from his perspective, the sun revolves around two things: him, and his dick.

Of course it takes us way too long to realize that he’s straight-up toxic to our well-being, and then when we finally do realize, we go through this Douchebag-detox that includes internal shame and guilt as we consider, “What the fuck were we smoking?!?”

And yet we find ourselves strangely drawn to his Facebook profile…taking a dark trip down memory lane to relive a stood up date, an unfulfilled promise, and the bad sex that we (at the time) convinced ourselves was great sex.

These guys, these Douchey McDoucherson's, should get awards.

I’m quite serious; there should be a national “Douchebag Day”, In their honor.

Because sure, at the time we felt victimized, sold short, and tragically scorned.

We were so let down by him (and ourselves).

We wondered how he could be so childish, so immature, so unloving and cruel? We moaned and cried over the DB, talked to our therapist about him for weeks, and then - hopefully - we learned a little something…

Because these relationships? These encounters with gross romantic and human ineptitude?

These are the relationships that transform us, humble us, and show us our dark, wickedly sick ways of being that demand to be radically shifted.

Being involved on any level with a bona fide Douchebag is actually a tremendous, beautiful wake-up call.

It shows how little we think of ourselves.

It shows us how willingly we allow ourselves to be ignored, mistreated, betrayed, or even abused.

These guys, these situations…they fuckin’ enlighten us, if we choose to see it that way.

On National Douchebag Day, we would say “Thank You!” with heart-felt sincerity, because these sad, icky, emotionally stunted men were able to show us just how messed up and screwy we were. Ta-da!

Douchebags are gifts. Painful, neurotic, tortured, selfish gifts that we are quick to regret, but slow to accept. Slow to praise. Unlikely to express gratitude for. Gratitude that would sound like:

“Thank you for showing me just how low my self-esteem was.”

“Thank you for helping me see how easy it is to believe what I want to hear vs. what someone is actually saying.”

“Thank you for giving me a reason to strengthen my relationship with myself and find the power and peace of mind to walk the fuck away from your sorry ass.”

THANK YOU DOUCHEBAGS. THANK YOU ASSHOLES. It is through you that I have been shown the way!

I once was blind but now I see!

I see you in your popped collar and boat shoes!

Or on your fixed-gear bike with your hipster mustache!

Or driving the car that your dad bought for you and the gym membership that your mom still pays for!

(Cause even if we are big enough to say, “Thank you,” it never hurts to make a casual dig…)

So in honor of the yet-to-be-made-official “Douchebag Day” I feel inspired to share a few surprising ways in which we could actually afford to be a little more like our favorite (or least favorite) Douchebag.

Consider this: channeling your inner DB can actually enhance your life.

I’m not suggesting we go full-Douche, but a small spritzing of mini-Douche can work wonders. Keep an open mind as you read the following tips, cause there’s some surprising wisdom in these dudes’ shitty, selfish, unfair, immature, douchebaggy ways.

1) Have Your Own Freakin’ Agenda

Douchebags don’t care about what we want. This is part of what sucks about them. But it’s also a big part of what makes their existence great.

They are on their own trajectory, interested in what they’re interested in, and fully focused on that (even if those interests are limited to getting laid and beer beer beer). They have their eyes on one prize: their agenda. And they’re loyal to it.

I’m not saying we should decide to party non-stop and sleep with anything that walks, but I do think it’s essential to have your own agenda. Your own mission, trajectory, and larger sense of purpose.

Think about it, how often do we get involved with someone and let our goals and dreams get sidetracked? Even small things!

 For example, have you ever canceled plans or skipped a work out to hang out with some new guy??

Yeah, that’s the kinda shit I’m talking about.

Get your own freakin’ agenda! Stick with it! Do everything you can to explore your personal interests. Relentlessly pursue a passion or curiosity until you feel connected to a calling.

Even the Douchebag has personal interests and goals, however lame. It’s high time you work on yours.

2) Don’t Care What Anyone Thinks

The Douchebag doesn’t want to hurt your feelings but he understands that he might, or probably will. It happens. People get involved, feelings get hurt. Cookies crumble, right?

So many of us are ravaged and saddened by the mere thought of hurting someone’s feelings or being disliked. It scares the shit out of us.

The Douchebag is amazing (and arguably sociopathic) in that he just doesn’t care. If you want to hate him, you can hate him. It’s okay. He’ll live.

What if we could access just 25% of that level of give-no-fucks? Wouldn’t that be liberating? You could put yourself out there, get involved, change your mind, consider alternatives, date around, and not feel so heavily burdened by the fear that at some point, you might upset someone. How freeing!

Because some people just aren’t going to like you. And you’re going to hurt someone at some point. It’s okay; it’s the inevitable. And if they’re an adult, they’ll survive and find a way to get over it.

3) Remember: The Douchebag LOVES Himself

One of the core characteristics of a signature DB is that he honestly believes that he’s the best.

There’s a necessary arrogance one must possess in order to be labeled a Douchebag, and while we may never know how he really feels when his head hits the pillow at night - these guys are almost never that deep - he at least appears to just L-O-V-E-looove himself.

How lucky for the Douchebag! If only he could spread that love around!

So even in the midst of trampling hearts, offending people, and unknowingly ruining lives, he continues to think he’s great. The Douchebag will stand by his own side, never jumping ship. That kind of brazen loyalty to oneself is admirable, albeit a tad insane.

And yet how quickly we jump down our own throats, scolding ourselves over what we did wrong, what we should have done, why we suck or will never amount to anything or GOD WHAT’S WRONG WITH US.

Nomming a slice of ignorant self-love pie really couldn’t hurt. I mean think about it, we’re great!

We have so much going for us! We are smart and capable and resilient and strong!

We know how to dress ourselves and brush our teeth! We are so good at opening wine and recommending Mexican restaurants!

We are creative and thoughtful and have strong leadership skills! We inspire people we don’t even know!

We earn promotions and raises! We run marathons and graduate top of our class!

We have already read three and a half whole books this year!

We are nice to old people and wave at babies!

Just saying: we’re good people and we tend to be harder on ourselves than these losers are. There’s something backwards about that.

Don’t be afraid to tap into your inner Douchebag the next time you’re feeling a wee bit low on the totem pole. No need to go full-DB (trust me, you couldn’t if you tried) but who knows? Halfway there could yield some cool, positive results.

And so I leave you with this absurd, yet sincere, query: Have you thanked a Douchebag lately?

BlogAmy YoungComment