Why I Am Marmite (And Why I'm OK With That)

No, it's not the result of some random Facebook-feed style quiz.

I didn't take a survey to find out "What Obscure Food Item Are You?"
It's just the best metaphor I've ever come across to describe what I am in relation to the other humans that inhabit this planet with me.
And I am Marmite.

Here's a selfie I took earlier

For those of you whose cupboards aren't as stock piled with as many mysterious-but-edible objects as my own, you might be wondering what exactly this thing is that I'm comparing myself to.
For that, let's get a quote from everyone's favourite encyclopedia...
"The product is a sticky, dark brown food paste with a distinctive, powerful flavour which is extremely salty. This distinctive taste is reflected in the British company's slogan: "Love it or hate it." The product's name has entered British English as a metaphor for something that is an acquired taste or tends to polarise opinions." - Wikipedia
Now, I pride myself on not usually being sticky.
My name has also not entered British-English slang as a well-known allegory (yet).
No, the reason I compare myself with this product is all in the slogan - "love it or hate it."

For as long as I can remember, my life has been made up of two very distinct types of people.
1. Terrific people who have never been anything but thoughtful, sweet and wonderful to me, and continue to surprise me with the lengths they'll happily go to in order to help me out.
2. Random people who (for little to no reason or for creatively imagined reasons) hate me as much as taxes, bad headaches or stubbing your toe.
Of course, there's a few in-betweens (as I'm sure there is with Marmite).
There's people I know from college, work, school, extended family and various other places who I'm pretty sure have no strong feelings towards me one way or another. I'm just the person they smile at, wave to and chat with once in a while and I'm not vain enough to assume that they have any serious opinions on me or even think about me very often.
No, with this particular post, I'm talking about the majority of people in my life and the two headings they fall under...
1. Those who love Marmite.
2. Those who hate Marmite.

And let me tell you: those who hate Marmite really fucking hate Marmite.
I've had stuff thrown at me, had my possessions stolen, been physically hit, told I was worthless, told I was ugly, had rumours spread about me, asked to go kill myself, been threatened, been mocked, been verbally abused and the list goes on and on.
For most of these instances, I've had absolutely no idea what I was supposed to have done.
For many other of these instances, the stuff I was meant to have done made no sense.
One time, I was informed that the reason someone had thrown a rotten apple at me (that proceeded to explode all over the book I had been reading at the time) was because I had insulted the thrower's sister.
Who not only had I never insulted but also had never met, nor did I know of her existence up until that point.
But hey, maybe that was my mistake. Or at least they certainly seemed to think so.
Another reason many of these people have started a one-sided feud with me seems to be summed up by the words "freak," "lunatic," "nerd" or "loser."
In other words, "she's weird."

But then there's the other side of things: people who love Marmite seem to really love Marmite.
I've had people do the nicest, most incredible things for me without any sort of motivation (or even hints) on my part.
I've received astoundingly thoughtful gifts, sent countless kindly-worded messages, been treated to unbelievable days out, had people say the sweetest things to me and have been humbled numerous times by great people referring to me as one of their best friends.
I cannot, for the life of me, pinpoint why these people like me so much or why they want to keep me around. I'm not fishing for compliments when I say that I don't see why they would willingly do so much for me so (being a curious and self-indulgent eejit) I've outright asked a few people why.
One of the main reasons many of these people give for liking me seems to be summed up by the words "different," "lunatic," "nerd" or "unique."
In other words, "she's weird."

So if I can avoid sounding like I suffer from Special-Little-Snowflake Syndrome, I'd like to agree with that statement.
Just like Marmite, I am weird.
And just like Marmite, that suits some people's tastes and it doesn't others.

For a long time, this really bothered me.
From first to fourth year in secondary school, I got bullied a lot. There was even a small group of people who hated me (and loved to show it) all the way up to graduation in sixth year.
But it wasn't just schoolyard stuff.
Lots of people have shown extreme disdain for me outside of the school atmosphere as well. And it's right from the get-go - I say two words and they immediately get this look on their faces like I'm an appallingly disgusting brand of food spread that is both horrendously salty and annoyingly syrupy.

It used to really get to me.
I didn't understand why there were people who seemed to abhor me without really giving me what I thought of as a fair chance.
And it was only when I was about 17 years old on the phone to my amazing sister Kirsten one night that any sort of revelation about it came to me.
She said "because you're different, you're an easy target. But that's not bad. Being different is a really, really good thing. You'll see."

So we're back to the whole "weird" thing again here. Which, turns out, is pretty much a deal-breaker in my life.
And ever since my sister said those glorious words to me, she's been proven right about how being different is a really, really good thing.
Lots of people have shown fondness for me right from the get-go - I say two words and they immediately get this look on their faces like I'm an awesomely delicious brand of food spread that is both perfectly salty and endearingly syrupy.
Boom. Instant friends.

And so, I've learned to really be OK with (dare I even say I've learned to love) being Marmite.
Why? Because it balances out so perfectly.
In fact, most of the time it balances out with much more positivity than negativity.

A few months ago, I received a message from someone via Facebook that (in so many words) basically told me to stop uploading so many selfies on Instagram because no one wanted to see my "dog face."
Instant block. Goodbye boy. Farewell.
Did it make me feel bad? Of course.
I don't take selfies for anyone other than myself but it still hurts when people apparently hate me so much they feel the need to point out how ugly they think I am.
But that one nasty comment is immediately voided by the generous compliments I sometimes get when I indulge in my poser addiction and upload a selfie to Instagram or Facebook.
The flattery I've received once in a while from friends has been nothing short of benevolent.
And that's not the only example I have...

A good long while ago, as I was walking home, someone threw a can of Dutch Gold at me (classy choice man), called me a "ginger bitch" and made a delightful hand gesture.
Yes, they were probably drunk, but they were also someone who had voiced distaste for me before while flawlessly sober.
Around the same time, I had someone else give me the present of a notepad with my initials on it that also included a detailed note on how glad they were to have me as a friend on the first few pages.
Oh and the same person gave me a can of Dr Pepper that day. That in itself is a great way to make my day a good one.

This phenomenon (which I have named "The Marmite Equilibrium") has presented itself many other times.
Whenever someone says something nasty to me, there are five other people who say something nice.
If there's somebody who does/says something that makes me feel two feet tall, there is somebody else to help build me back up again.
Every time I'm given the impression that I suck, that I'm I have no redeemable qualities or I'm just a full-fledged bad person, there are those waiting to do everything they can to make me feel like I rock, I have several awesome traits and that I am, after all, a good person.

An interesting thing to note is that both sides of the Marmite Equilibrium refuse to acknowledge their existence.
If I try to call out people who hate Marmite on why they have to try and make my life such a misery, they'll immediately accuse me of "deserving what I get," "asking for it," "acting the victim" or (the ever-popular) "it's just a joke and you have no sense of humour."
The last one really gets to me because it's only a joke if everyone is laughing but hey, we'll save that rant for another day.
Similarly, if I try to call out people who love Marmite on why they voluntarily do so much to keep a smile on my face, they're quick to tell me "I deserve what I get," "it's no big deal," "it's what friends do" or (the one that always makes me grin from ear to ear) "I just like you is all."

The reason Arsenic In My Every Endorphin went on hiatus for so long is because I still, as much as I hate to admit it, am deeply affected by what the people who hate Marmite so much have to say about me.
There's 30 seconds of a YouTube video dedicated to what a fucking idiot I am (I'm pretty sure it's still up, I don't know, it's not in any of my personal playlists) so I shudder to think what else they'll put me through on the realm of the internet.

But whenever I put up a link to my blog on my Facebook, a couple of people always share it, usually
with a kind, humbling note on how funny, smart or cool I am.
And so, I want to thank you for the confidence you give me.
Every single person who loves Marmite gives me more strength, courage and self-assurance than I could ever express in less than a 5,000-word dissertation.
I am so grateful to have every single one of you in my life.

And so, in conclusion, being Marmite has its downsides.
But when you get to have people in your life as amazing as the people I have in mine, it becomes clear that those downsides are very much worth it.

And that is why I identify so strongly with jars of sticky food paste.

Me on an average Tuesday