There are plenty of arguments to be made about giving fewer f*cks, but also, so many to be made about giving more.

All those motivational quotes tell me that what others think of me is none of my business, that I should surround myself with those who lift me up, and something about a tribe — oh my god, there’s always a “tribe” involved, isn’t there?

Anyhow, I’m here to tell you that I care a lot. I have many f*cks to give. I care if people dislike me, I care if I’ve offended people, I care if my fly is down, I care if I fart in yoga class, I care if your kid is sick, I care if I bumped your car with my car door, I care a-plenty.

Buuuut there are a number of things I just cannot bring myself to care about, no matter how the internet tries to convince me they should matter. I just can’t give any more attention to these things, I really cannot.

Here is a list of some items about which I give precisely zero f*cks:

Stretch marks and Cellulite

You can keep telling me that this cream or that lotion is the one to end all stretch marks, but you’re still a liar. You can’t prevent them, you can’t cure them, and you’re a total jerk for making anyone feel any guilt over them. Cellulite and stretch marks are part of life, like those fine lines and pores people keep trying to filter off their faces in Snapchat pics. Stop it.

Matching Socks

I hereby decree that exactly no more time of my life will be spent matching socks. I don’t know where the matching ones go and I don’t even care. That mystery is not one I care to solve. If someone in this house wants socks to match, all the more power to them and their new job.

How Other People Parent

Look, you gotta do what works for you. I am tired of articles pointing fingers and accusing parents of doing things the wrong way. Your baby sleeps the wrong way! You’re feeding your kids the wrong way! You’re hovering too much! You’re giving them too much freedom! Honestly, is there nothing better these people have to do than judge how someone else is muddling through parenting? It’s hard enough already, let’s try offering support.

Your Opinion on my Parenting

I’m doing my best, ok? Unless I’m directly asking for your opinion about a parenting decision, don’t offer it. In fact, even if I ask, pretend like I’m an all-star and just support me, dammit. Didn’t your mama ever teach you to mind your own business? Maybe we should talk about your parents’ poor parenting.

My eyebrows conforming to your crazy standards

Listen, fashionistas: back in the 90s I was ordered to pluck the crap outta my brows and I complied. So don’t come at me with those accusatory brow brushes wondering why these eyebrows are so sparse. You did this to me. I don’t want a stencil set to paint on eyebrows that’ll melt off my face when I sweat. And I REALLY don’t want them tattooed into my forehead permanently (because everyone said thin brows were eternal, and look where that got us!). In fact, I don’t to invest any brain time into thinking about these dust collectors over my eyes. Just leave my damn brows out of the conversation.

Crappy Friends

Who has time for these soul-suckers? I put up with people who lie to me, people who use me, people who are favour junkies, people who offer no value whatsoever to a friendship. . . for what? I have no time for frienemies.

Ego Over Relationships

What good is an ego when it has no soft place to land? I’ve decided that in order to build fulfilling relationships (whether they’re friendships or romantic or otherwise), I need to be clear about my needs. That means leaving my ego at the door. It means accepting my faults, moving past them, and being honest about feelings. It’s ok to be sensitive, it’s ok to be raw, it’s ok to need other people.

Fear of Disappointing Others

Chances are, if you’re involved in my life at this point, you love me enough to accept me and my flaws. I see no value in living with the weight of other people’s expectations on my shoulders anymore. Barring being a total jackass, we should live our own lives as our own selves, and let others keep their own expectations in check. This is me, take it or leave it.

The Rules

I’m not gonna rob a bank or anything, but I’m done comforming to silly rules. Wear the bikini, dress however you want regardless of your age, wear the makeup, or don’t. Do what makes you happy, and don’t let anyone stop you from reaching your dreams. Life’s too short to follow someone else’s rules.

Perfection

Over it. Don’t need it. Doesn’t exist beyond Instagram filters anyhow.

With all this space cleared up, I have lots of room to give plenty of f*cks to the more important things in life. Give it a try.