The other day, as I was doing my thang and scrolling through Twitter, I came across a Kermit meme.
(Oh, Kermit. Don’t we all love him so much? He’s done so much for memes in the last couple of years. He and Joe Biden really are a match memed in Heaven.)
When it comes to Kermit, it’s safe to say that he is a many memed frog – did I see a That’s None of My Business, Though meme? Or perhaps a Kermit Goes Hard on a Typewriter meme? No, it was none of those. It was everybody’s recent favourite: Evil Kermit.
Normally, an Evil Kermit meme will make me laugh a low, I Can Relate chuckle. I might even tag a friend before I scroll along to the next thing. But this Evil Kermit meme made me pause.
The meme in question is this one (courtesy of milkpopz on Twitter):
Err, excuse me, Kermit the Frog, but I’m on Twitter as a way to slip daily in a passive state of scrolling that temporarily numbs my mind from having to think about the crushing weight of reality. I am not on Twitter to be forced into introspection from an unexpected Evil Kermit meme.
And yet here I am, writing a blog post about it. Let’s go.
There’s a reason that people relate to Evil Kermit so much, and it’s because he kind of exists in all of us. He’s that little voice in your head who, when you open a packet of Jaffa Cakes, whispers ‘eat the entire packet’, when you only set out to eat three. Now, I don’t know about you, but when it comes to Jaffa Cakes, I give into Evil Kermit every. damn. time.
On the other hand, there’s also this Evil Kermit meme:
Again, I don’t know about you, but I’m not about to go and steal someone’s dog. I might really want to, but I’m probably not actually gonna do it, y’know?
Here’s where the introspection comes in, because we have to face up to the fact that, even though he’s the bad guy, sometimes, Evil Kermit wins.
Everyone has their own weaknesses and their own Evil Kermit’s inside of them, and when I saw this meme, I realised that comparison was one of mine. Every time I hear that little whisper in my head that I’m not doing as well as I should be, or that I’m a failure because I haven’t had the exact same successes as somebody else, I realised that it’s not me saying those things and believing them – it’s Evil Kermit.
I spend a lot of my time comparing myself to others. I compare myself to my brother and sister, who both moved to Australia when they were 22, and who are both feeling settled and happy, while I still feel like I’m being pulled in a million different directions. I compare myself to other bloggers, who dedicate more time than I do to their blogs – which is nobody’s fault but my own! I compare myself to the friends that I graduated with – thinking that they’re doing better than me because they have this and that job or they’re doing a Masters degree or they’re spending more time working on their novel than I am.
I’ve been comparing myself to others for years, and it’s taken me this long to realise that it’s not the happy, healthy part of my brain that’s making these comparisons – it’s the Evil Kermit part. In fact, if the actual Kermit the Frog was to meet me, he’d probably be wildly proud of everything that I’ve achieved, because that’s the kind of frog he is.
This post might not make a whole lot of sense, and to be honest, I wrote it more for myself than for anyone else, but I guess there’s a lesson to be learned in it:
Don’t spend your time worrying about everything that Evil Kermit says. Sometimes he’ll win, and you’ll eat an entire packet of Jaffa Cakes and end up feeling a bit sick, but sometimes, you’ll realise that it’s Evil Kermit who’s disguising himself as your thoughts, and you’ll be able to say Hey! Evil Kermit! Get out of here! I’m too busy to listen to your nonsense today!