About ‘Mood Hoovers’ - Here’s Why Pessimistic Companions Might Help for You
Personally seek out wisdom from others on dealing with life’s midpoint hurdles, such as deep inner questions, fading relevance, noticing one’s neck resembling a melted timepiece and a newfound passion regarding sunny relocation programs. Most recently, I read the chef’s comments about hitting fifty during a chat: “To thrive in life’s later stages, you must cut out distractions,” he explained. “Just be with lovely people. I’m avoiding negative people – ‘mood hoovers’ – and getting better at saying no.”
My first thought was: doesn’t this conflict regarding shunning downbeat folks and mastering refusal? Might that suggest he must escape his own nature? I know – it’s exactly the kind of thing a mood hoover would say, and that’s because I am one. Yet, we gloomy souls like to call ourselves “vibe suckers”. Please avoid “wet blanket” or “fun sponge” too – all this comparing us to utilitarian household items is offensive; we have feelings (albeit mainly negative ones). I’ll accept “downbeat cashmere throw”, at a pinch.
It’s possible you’re also a member. Are you less the life and soul of the party and more its accountant or undertaker? When you give an exhaustive answer to “How are you?”, does the other person slowly retreat? Do you greet “fun” activity suggestions with an expression that makes you look like you’ve swallowed a slug? Do you strongly identify with Eeyore; has a psychic ever told you your aura is grey?
If so, you’re one of us, but it’s OK. Even as popular advice encourages cutting ties with “exhausting” pals, I believe we provide genuine benefits. I reckon a mood hoover would have said something discouraging – or at least made a slug-swallowing face – when Jamie described his plan to write a kids’ book with an Australian First Nation main character without consulting Indigenous communities, which could have prevented a whole lot of problems, upset and offence. You don’t get that sort of service from “lovely people”.
