Hospitality in itself is a good thing. Treating others with warmth and generosity is what human beings should naturally do. Southern Hospitality, however, is an entirely different beast. Southern Hospitality becomes not about just being kind and welcoming, but about being pleasing and never stepping on others toes. Maybe it isn’t Southern Hospitality that I have a problem with, but the expectations placed upon southern women.
Maybe I have a problem with standing up for myself.
Growing up in the south is like growing up in another world. As a child I was taught Yes Ma’am, No Ma’am, Yes Sir, and No Sir. If I answered my mother with yes she would respond with “Yes what?” and the child version of Jessica never said no. Saying “NO” to my Mother ensured a good ‘ole fashioned spanking. If you were going to use the word you had better be prepared for an ass beating. Honestly, I cannot recall any of my siblings or me using the word no. Even No Ma’am, if used in certain context, could make my Mom’s eyebrows rise.
So why do I feel like I’ve lost myself in Southern Hospitality, or rather social expectations? I’ m drawn back to the Yes Ma’am and No Ma’am’s of my childhood. As an adult I’m no longer required to treat people respectfully, I just do. And honestly there is absolutely nothing wrong with that. Recently I’ve found that I’ve become more than just respectful, I’ve tried to become pleasing. I want those that I care about the most to be happy, and I’ve sacrificed my own happiness for theirs: A recipe for disaster.
In Mexico people think that it is rude to not give you directions. If you ask a Mexican how to get somewhere, and even if they don’t’ know the way they will make up something. Yes, this is completely unhelpful, but it’s the culture. Southern Hospitality has the same need to please. If you’re hosting a party or just a group of people, as host you go out of your way to make sure everyone is happy. As a guest you accept whatever your host offers you. That’s Southern Hospitality at it’s best.
So how can I keep the charming side of Southern Hospitality while remaining true to myself? This past weekend my boyfriend was cooking me an egg and I explained to him exactly how I wanted it, but it didn’t turn out as I had expected. At that second I had a moment. My thought process went like this:
I can accept this egg and eat it as is, or I can just tell him that he got it wrong.
But, if I eat that egg he’ll think that’s how I really like them, and I’ll be stuck eating eggs that way forever.
I don’t want to be difficult.
I’ll just cook another egg myself.
The southern girl in me found an acceptable way to try and get what I wanted while still being pleasing. But why does everything have to be pleasing. Why couldn’t I have just said, “That’s not how I eat my eggs” especially after having explained how I wanted it cooked. I came across as rude by offering to cook another egg. I wasn’t respectful or pleasing, but I was trying to be both and get what wanted.
I want to be warm and welcoming and generous while still being myself.
Recently, my roommate and her family have taken over my apartment. I’ve become a nomad living with my boyfriend on the weekends and another friend during the week. I’ve been totally stressed out about this entire living situation, but the Southern Girl in me has just bitten my tongue, but I’ve had enough.
As the saying goes “I need to grow some balls!” I’m tired of getting taken advantage of.
I’m ready to stand up for myself. My New Year’s resolution has become not just to lose weight, but also to take pride in myself: To realize that I deserve to be treated respectfully, and that my needs, my wants and my dreams and my wishes are just as important as anyone else.
This isn’t about Southern Hospitality. This is about learning to be myself.
was a huge hit with me because, well I was the chubby kid. Who can forget Are you There God? It’s Me, Margaret. I was really into the series books: The Boxcar Children, Nancy Drew, Sweet Valley High, Goose Bumps and the list goes on. I loved C.S. Lewis as well. The Magician’s Nephew was oddly one of my favorites, second to The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe.
