‘Take Care of Yourself’: How to Spot a Fake Friend in Four Words or Less
Without exception, every person who bestowed that gem upon us as their contribution and “help” to our situation is “a plain asshole.” If I were a violent man, I’d go so far as to say using that line is throat punch worthy.
“Remember, take care of yourself.” I hate that phrase. So seemingly insightful, concerned, and kind. Yeah, right. It’s a cheap throwaway line usually spoken by someone who has no intention of taking care of you.
Pardon me as I engage the cynical side of my personality. It’s been six months since my wife was diagnosed with Hairy Cell Leukemia (HCL). It’s no surprise that the diagnosis was a complete surprise to everyone. As a result, I’ve seen people’s reactions to our situation from all parts of our lives. I’m on a trajectory to become a top-notch, FBI-certified cancer friend/family profiler (I’m pretty sure the FBI has those).
In about three minutes, I can tell if a friend or family member (or even stranger) is loving, genuine, able to be helpful, indifferent, frightened, or just a plain asshole. I’ve profiled close family, friends, neighbors, co-workers, children, long-lost acquaintances, and perfect strangers. To date, my profiling has yet to be wrong.
Without exception, every person who bestowed that gem upon us as their contribution and “help” to our situation is “a plain asshole.” If I were a violent man, I’d go so far as to say using that line is throat punch worthy.
Before you disagree, hear me out. The line is usually used as a way out of a conversation when the person wants to feel good about themselves because they’ve asked you the question, “how are you doing (slight pause and slight tilt of the head to convey sincerity), really?” You make the mistake of answering honestly. A few perfunctory questions later, and then there it is, “Remember, take care of yourself.” The good news is you’re not likely to hear from that person again, or much anyway.
Make sure I take care of myself? What does that even mean?
Think about it for a second. If a man were bleeding out from a gunshot wound, would you tell him, “Hey, buddy, remember to take care of yourself”? You wouldn’t. If you saw a woman stuck on a sinking boat, and you floated by in a perfectly seaworthy craft, would you yell out, “Hey lady, take care of yourself!”? Of course not.
So, why do people get some sort of noble, I did a good deed for the day feeling by telling someone who is suffering mentally or emotionally, in most cases with medical-related trauma, to take care of themselves? Worse, they go back to their friends and say, “I saw so and so, he looked like shit, he’s going through a lot, so I reminded him to take care of himself.” Thanks!
What I’ve realized is that not a single person who has supported me, my wife, or my family has ever said, “remember, take care of yourself.” Rather, their comments are direct and backed with love and support. They find ways to help you with what you need versus what makes them feel good (including never bringing you tuna casserole). Rather than telling me to take care of myself, they offer a way for me to do that without being preachy about what to do. They’ll ask, “can I do (insert specific helpful item) so you can go grab a beer or get out of here for a while?” That’s the help and concern we need.
Back to those who are dangerously close to being throat punched. As a member of the Cancer Club, you realize that the stakes now are high, and everything else matters less. You also realize you have no time to suffer fools or the hopelessly selfish. You don’t have time for empty promises, and you don’t have the patience for platter-served platitudes intended only to serve the server. Thanks, I’ll pass.
To those new to the Cancer Club, I offer up my expertise and experience. The first person who tells you, “remember, take care of yourself,” cut and run. Avoid the urge to throat punch and politely delete that person from your phone.
Focus on those in your life who show up to help you because they genuinely love you. The best way to honor and respect the love they give you is by not wasting your precious time and energy on plain assholes. You deserve better than that. Invest that time in recovering from your illness or caring for your loved one and in building even stronger bonds with your true team.
This article originally appeared in The Good Men Project.
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