I say “I’m so happy for you!” constantly. The good, selfless part of me means it implicitly. The other 90% of me, however, probably only means it if it was something I didn’t want, anyway.
“You’re pregnant? I’m so happy for you!” Totally genuine. Thank God it’s not me. “You’ve decided to go to law school? I’m so happy for you!” Having doubts about your intelligence, but still, mostly genuine (even more so if I don’t really like you and I know that you will be hating yourself and the world in general for the next three to four years). “You’ve decided to give up drinking? I’m so happy for you!” Genuine (and we likely won’t be hanging out any time soon).
“You’re being published? I’m so happy for you!” Basically waiting for lightening to strike me down in the middle of my kitchen. Like I said, 10% of me? Actually pleased for your good fortune. 90% of me? Petty, jealous asshole. Who wants it to be me, not you. Who wants to know how someone could have picked you over me. Who, thankfully, is a skilled actress who can pretend the shit out of being happy for you. Cause 10% of me is. (Yes, yes, I know. I really need to work on my asshole ratio. It’s on my to-do list.)