The Gossipers Anthem

Everybody gossips and that's fine but it's not good. Or bad.

Have you heard the gossip about gossip? It’s good now. We’ve reexamined a historically maligned practice to find out that it’s actually heroic. Women need to warn other women about men with absolutely foul intentions. Gossip is the healthy and reasonable spread of information.

The new truth about gossip is how all of us gossip gals can make sure that we’re perfect people. This new way of framing gossip isn’t entirely untrue, but it is convenient. Gossip, a habit especially attributed to women, has been considered negative and frivolous and of course that’s not always the case and it’s great we’re acknowledging that, but I’d like to push back on the way that in acknowledging it’s not inherently wrong, we can pretend it’s inherently right.

Last week, Claire and I did a great podcast called Big Small Talk about the merits of gossip (I’ll link when it’s out), and it got me thinking about my gossipiest moments. While we’ve redefined gossip to recognize it’s value I think we’ve conveniently forgotten that sometime’s it’s just bitchy.

Last year, I had the unfortunate experience of being part of a gossip circle that opened up beyond its intended audience. My conversations being “leaked” is something I’ve gotten somewhat used to. We’ve historically treated our podcast like a secret conversation in a completely soundproof room, and it’s burned personal and professional bridges. With a flamethrower. I’ve spent the last several years putting a bit too much of my business on the internet, but I was still taken aback having what I thought was a private conversation shared with the subject of our catty convo. Parts of our chat were inquisitive, as all gossip starts, and parts of it were downright mean, as some gossip ends. It wasn’t something the person we were talking about should have ever heard and I felt like absolute shit as my phone blew up and a group chat imploded.

On one hand, the conversation should never have been shared. Right now, every situation can find a right and a wrong. When you read an “am I the asshole” post, there is a correct answer. When you ask a question about human behavior or relationship dynamics, you’re probably looking to be validated in your correctness. Nobody wants to be the problem, so now we overintellectualize any situation to avoid being one.

I spent weeks thinking about how I’d hurt someone’s feelings, and even though I knew I was wrong, I convinced myself that the person who spread the information was wronger.

There was a trend on TikTok where people would share gossip they overheard because they were being “girls’ girls” and insisted the person being gossiped about had a right to know. They’d post something like, “if your name is Josie and you’re getting married in Scotland on June 24, your friends think your dress is ugly. Sorry hun <3.” Of course it sucks that some girls friends are talking shit about her but is it better for her to hear it from a stranger on the internet who doesn’t know anything else about the situation? Sometimes people are just blowing off steam or being their petty selves for no good reason, and the person putting gossipers on blast is certainly stirring the pot. The comments section would always devolve into who in this situation is the worst one, and therefore the only bad one.

I realized the reason I felt like shit about this whole situation wasn’t because the sharer had wronged us all, it was because I was acting fucked up. I still don’t think gossip is bad, but like anything (should I make a sex joke here??), when you do it too sloppily and too with the wrong people, someone gets hurt. I was seeking out gossip like an empty camel wandering the desert for water, and I never thought twice about it. Of course I would up overstepping.

I’m not trying to justify or even unjustify gossiping. I think that in general, the black and white rubric with which we judge people on the internet has seeped into everyday life and our perception of ourselves and each other as good or bad. Being perfect is hard, so we either rewrite the rules to make it easier, or we say fuck it and decide to just be mean to each other because perfection is impossible. After the incident, I got so self-conscious about who all hated me. I felt like I’d ruined any proof of my ability to be a friend forever, but I realized that was even more annoying. When you fuck up you have to just ask for forgiveness and forgive yourself by acting differently next time. I don’t think every indiscretion should just slide, especially because I wrote this about myself, but I do think we can bring back acknowledging when you’re being kind of a bitch and then trying not to be.

Whenever my friends and I talk shit we joke that it’s a shame no one else can be perfect like us. As much as we kid, I think I fell into believing I was one of the “good” ones, and holding myself to a certain standard of perfection makes it hard not to judge other people just as harshly. Gossip doesn’t need to be twisted into a perfect and smart activity for me to live with myself. It’s something everyone does, sometimes for bravery, sometimes for pettiness, and sometimes for boredom. I don’t know if I knew what my final thoughts would be when I started writing this, but I think that acknowledging when I’m wrong and accepting my own ever-evolving efforts makes it easier to see that other people are also just trying and figuring things out. Nobody is perfect, and that’s something to consider when I’m gossiping about them.