Tolerance Is Great… Until Someone Uses Your Office Plant as a Litter Box

Where do we draw the line on tolerance these days? Do you know?

Because let me tell you something. If Samantha from HR tells me she identifies as a cat, I swear on my favorite pen, I am not going to get down on all fours and start purring while cleaning her litter box with a company-issued spatula. There is tolerance, and then there’s whatever this is. Name it.

Listen, I’m a very tolerant person. Too tolerant, some might say. I don’t care if you’re black, white, rainbow-striped, Muslim, atheist, Jewish, agnostic, or pray to a rotisserie chicken. Your gender? Love who you want. Dress how you want. Be who you are. Honestly, if you’re not hurting anyone, live your truth and wear a glitter cape while doing it.

But we’re living in a time where “being tolerant” now sometimes means “you must pretend this insane thing is completely normal and act like it’s not weird at all.” Like no, I’m not going to greet someone with “meow” at a meeting and pretend this is the same as respecting someone’s pronouns. Because one of those things is about identity and the other is about cosplay.

Tolerance: The Good Kind

Real talk — I grew up in a very Catholic country. I was basically baptized when I was week old in holy water, guilt, and opinions. Church taught me to “love everyone,” but church people often forgot that bit and just focused on “love everyone except anyone who’s different.”

Growing up, if you even mentioned LGBTQ relationships, it was like summoning Voldemort. People acted like you’d brought Satan to the church bake sale. Meanwhile, Jesus was over here flipping tables and hugging outcasts, and the modern church is more concerned with how short your skirt is.

It’s giving “Love thy neighbor… unless he’s wearing eyeliner and singing Lady Gaga.”

And here’s the wild part — I don’t think we’re born intolerant. Babies don’t care if you’re gay or straight or vegan or from Mars. They just want snacks and sleep. Intolerance is something we learn. Usually from people who wear beige and yell about things they don’t understand.

But Also: We’ve Gone Full Circle and Are Censoring Ourselves Into a Coma

Here’s the issue. Somewhere along the line, we jumped from respect and kindness into everyone must pretend nothing is ever uncomfortable or funny or even slightly problematic.

You can’t even make a joke now without someone clutching their pearls and writing a 12-part Instagram story about how you emotionally wounded their inner child.

Imagine telling a light-hearted joke at lunch:

“Why did the chicken cross the road?” “Wow, are you mocking chickens now? That’s poultry-phobic. Chickens have trauma, Tina.”

I'm not saying we should all go around making terrible jokes about things that hurt people — there’s a difference between being funny and being a jerk. But if 1 in 10 people finds everything offensive, are we just going to walk around mute, communicating only in emojis and legally approved safe words?

Maybe I’m the One Who’s Behind?

Maybe I’m the dinosaur here. Maybe I just don’t “get” why your coworker wants to be referred to as “Whiskers McFluffface” and has anxiety if you call her anything else. Maybe I’m the one who needs to evolve. Maybe I'm the one who's falling behind like the church.

But also... maybe not?

Maybe we’re at a point where common sense needs to make a comeback. I will respect you. I will support you. I will clap when you come out, transition, leave your toxic religion, or start a new life as a bisexual Buddhist who only eats raw foods and lives in a yurt. You do you, baby.

But don’t ask me to meow.

Maybe Samantha needs psychiatric help?

The One Thing I Will Never Tolerate: Violence

Let me be crystal clear on this one — the only thing I will never tolerate is violence. Physical, verbal, emotional, mental. Abuse is abuse. I don’t care if it’s coming from a priest, a politician, or a parent. If you’re harming others, you’ve officially exited the “let’s just respect each other” chat. The time of the Internet shows us today how many people think they are anonymous and spread hate.

Final Thoughts from a Mildly Unhinged Tolerant Person

Tolerance used to mean "live and let live." Now it feels like a weird competitive sport. Who’s the most accepting? Who’s the most “woke”? Who can bend the furthest backward to accept the absurd without flinching?

But maybe, just maybe, we can land somewhere between the extremes. A place where we accept people for who they are — within reason — and we stop pretending that every unusual belief or behavior is a sacred cow.

Or sacred cat.

So go ahead — identify however you want. Just don’t expect me to fetch a scratching post.

With love, sass, and the occasional eye-roll,

Tina 🐾