You Wanna Sell Me Something On Facebook? I'm Cool With That

Here's the thing: I don't want to buy your $40 facial cleanser. But I think you're pretty dope for stepping outside your comfort zone to try and sell it to me.
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I know I'm a little tardy to the party here, but I just finished reading that viral post about "3-D Lashes, Jamberry and Other Ways To Lose Facebook Friends." You know, the one by the chick who's sick of her friends trying to sell her stuff on social media?

My takeaway?

Women suck.

Why? Because I don't think that post is actually about selling stuff, you guys. I think it's about women. And about the fact that we are all basically assholes who try to make each other feel bad. And about how no matter how far we've come or how much progress we make, we still can't just sit back and celebrate our successes without trying to kill each other's vibe. Unless we're drunk in a restaurant bathroom, in which case all bets are off and we're total supportive besties.

I have never been to a 3-D lash party and I have no clue what Jamberry is (though apparently, it's not jam), so maybe your suburb is cooler than mine. But if you're my friend and you're trying to make Jamberry happen, then post it if you got it. Because even if you're clogging up my newsfeed with weird before and after pics that may or may not be 100 percent legit, it takes serious balls to put yourself out there and I will support that kind of head for business and bod for sin badassery any day of the week.

If you just rolled your eyes, I don't blame you. For one thing, I just quoted Working Girl. I also made up the word "badassery." And if you know me at all, then you know that I am so not the girl who's gonna waltz into your product party to nonchalantly browse the merch while socializing with the same group of people I just left in pickup line. Unless there's alcohol. In which case I am like, totally there. I'll probably also break a wine glass or three, so don't say I didn't warn you. But even then, I'm not going go buy some random tube of something to make it seem like I'm supporting you, only to turn around and bitch about you behind your back the minute I leave your house.

You know that happens, right? I mean, we've all done it. And yes, I just said I wouldn't throw shade, but I also said that women suck and I just had three glasses of wine in this scenario, so try to keep up, mmkay?

Here's the thing: I don't want to buy your $40 facial cleanser. But I think you're pretty dope for stepping outside your comfort zone to try and sell it to me. Because it takes a hell of a lot of courage and grit to go after a goal in such a public way, and people are always going to find something to say about it. And by "people," I mean suburban housewives and by "find something to say," I mean talk shit. But you should never sacrifice who you are just because someone else has a problem with it. (Totally just read that on Instagram!)

I have so many friends who have re-invented themselves since having kids. And they are all pretty damn amazing. You can call them Momtrepreneuers and you can mean it as an insult. But the truth is -- and I'm paraphrasing The Breakfast Club here -- that you see them as you want to see them, in the simplest terms, in the most convenient definitions. Yes, they are moms. But they are also yoga instructors and photographers and nut-free bakers. Jewelry makers and party planners and dance teachers. I have a friend making headlines this month for the amazing clothing line she designed for kids with disabilities.

And yes, I also have friends who sell skin care products and 30-day cleanses on facebook. So freaking what? Do we really have to dismiss them as basic? Are we, like, 45 and still in middle school? Where is the love? These are honeys making money, mommas who profit dollas. And we should be supporting them, celebrating them, throwing our hands up at them. Why? Because Beyoncé said so, that's why. And you'd totally buy a Rodan & Fields face roller from her, admit it.

Look, does the nonstop posting sometimes make me want to smack myself in the face with a jar of Arbonne Omega 3 Plus? Well, duh. But just to be clear, so do those Adam Levine Proactiv commercials and you don't see me unfriending him on Facebook, do you? Fine, we're not actually friends. But still.

The truth is, we are all annoying to someone on Facebook, whether we are trying to sell something or not. Nobody wants to see a picture every time we drink a bloody mary or get a mani-pedi or fly first class or write a letter to our kid from the tooth fairy. I know, I know. Way harsh, Tai.

I bet if you're one of those people who never posts on Facebook or comments on anything you're probably feeling pretty righteous right about now. Well, guess what? You suck more than anybody. Because we know you are watching. And your silence speaks volumes. You want to judge the players when you're too scared to get in the game? Nice try, stalker, but you don't even go here!

I've been blogging since 2009 and I have some friends who've been the most amazing supporters. And I also have friends who haven't. You know who you are. And since someone once told me to pay close attention to the people who don't clap when you win, I know who you are, too. It's always been so puzzling to me. But the bottom line is, it really doesn't matter. Because at the end of the day, none of this is about what other people think. It's about doing your own thing, feeding your soul or -- as one of my more prolific Facebook friends would put it -- filling your cup. And if selling Isogenix protein powder is the stuff your dreams are made of, who I am I to judge? I just spent two hours writing this blog post and I won't make a single dime.

So screw the haters and keep right on jamming up my newsfeed with those sales pitches, bitches! I got you. Because I will choose to support someone who is brave enough to put themselves out there over someone who plays it safe any day of the week. Or as Madonna recently posted on the 'gram: "If you don't like me and still watch everything I do... bitch, you're a fan."

Guess the joke's on you, then.

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