There are times I feel like I have it under control. That I can manage whatever comes next.
This is not one of those times.
I feel like I'm floundering. Like I'm drowning. I can't keep my footing and everything is falling apart.
Let's start at the beginning.
Let's not really discuss the toddler in the room, the traitor in the white house. 1-because I don't want to and 2-because we understand it's the kicking off point. It starts the depression, the anxiety, the fear. But more than that fuels it.
It's work. It's home. It's my sweetie. It's my kiddo. It's me. It's everything.
I don't feel like I'm progressing at work. I feel stagnant, stuck in a job that holds no way to move up. Which makes no sense in my family-owned, family-run company when it's MY family. But it doesn't feel like they want me to move up, like they feel I can. And maybe it's just that I haven't shown that I want to. But when I'm told, over and over and over again, that I'm not ready to project manage, that I don't have the IH experience to be able to do it on my own, I get discouraged. And I know they've told others in the past who couldn't handle it the same thing, so now I'm wondering what the hell I'm doing here if they don't think I can handle it. One coworker who is one year older than me (but with more experience, I concede that fact) has already moved herself into a managerial position, and here I am back in the dust.
Not to mention that two people who in my opinion don't deserve to be vice presidents just got promoted to vice president. What the hell is a point of a vice president unless it's a fucking sorority? Our company isn't big enough to allow this sort of crap.
And talking about this at home is difficult, because my feelings get intensified by someone who loves me to my core and back again. Sweetie wants the best for me, but there are times they get more heated than I do. And then it starts me off on a tangent I can't stomach, where they tell me that the company doesn't believe in me and doesn't have a future at all, which is certainly one way of looking at it. But are my above feelings reflective of their suggestions or do I really feel this way?
And home is hard. It's hard. This time of year is harder because of Halloween. And it's all been made harder for the kiddo because the 2 kids on our street moved--1 each year. We haven't even seen the last kid who moved whose mom kept insisting we'd see them more often. And when I try to reach out, to say my kid is hurting, can you help me, I get back "well my kid is soooooo busy," which basically is a fuck off. And it hurts. And it's painful. And it affects my fucking kid. How dare you affect my kid so deeply and not even give a shit about it? The fact that I haven't ripped her a new one for not giving a rat's ass is amazing to me.
Not to mention the fact that kiddo feels so sad every day because they don't get to see their "sister" (kid from school last year who was the only other only child in the class) as often. The little girl ends up at kiddo's school at the end of the day, but kiddo has only seen her twice. And thus it becomes a daily conversation of how much kiddo misses "my sister." It's gut wrenching, because this little girl seemed to take glee and joy in hurting my kiddo, not wanting to say hi, not wanting to play, etc. but yet my kiddo misses this child so much.
And that seems to be a theme. My kiddo missing others. And it makes me wonder if any of them have any care or concern for my kid. Do they miss my kid? Do they care about my kid? Does anyone ever give a shit about anything?
And that pushes into new territory. Sweetie and I want to homeschool our kiddo. Public school is far too scary these days to send kiddo there. Between school shootings, sexual harassment, and poor instruction, we feel like things are better off with us. We'll do the charter school thing, where kiddo goes 1-2 days per week to a school, has a park day with tons of kids and is involved in a crapton of other activities. But this also plays back into that missing others aspect. Will my kiddo feel they are missing out? I honestly, completely and totally don't know. But it gives me more anxiety than I care to be honest about.
But back to home. Sweetie feels unmotivated and can't find motivation, which I cannot understand for anything simply because you do shit that needs to be done. I cannot comprehend not doing the laundry because you can't find motivation. Needing clothing to wear should be enough. Trying to have a clean house should be enough. And when I ask for help, I don't get it. Sweetie says they'll help out more, but when I ask for specific things, I have to ask multiple times and it still doesn't get done. So when I ask again, Sweetie gets mad that I've asked and now I'm in more of a pickle than before. And it's not fair, but I don't know how to fix it.
I'm floundering. I'm drowning. And I see no end in sight.
I just got rid of the hormonal birth control and so now I can see all of this. I couldn't before, as I was in a fog. But I see it all now. And I don't know how to fix it.
Thursday, September 27, 2018
Tuesday, June 12, 2018
Drifting
This past year has thrown so much at us. Where to even begin?
The fall out after the election and the disgusting nature of that idiot in charge. His abandonment of intelligent ideas, his fleshing out of stupidity, and his ability to corral the worst in our society. It takes a toll on your soul.
We lose friends. They move, they distance themselves for whatever reason. We hurt, we cry, it takes its toll on our souls.
We try to connect, to build something where there is nothing. We don't try hard, because we know it's fleeting.
When we do try, they leave, they move, and at least our saving grace is we didn't get close.
But how does a child live through this? Through the abandonment of friends, through the death of family, through the movement of life? I recall as a child where my family lost 22 people in 20 months. How did we survive? How many did I truly know? I'm no worse for the wear, but my sister was. Because she was younger, because she went, she witnessed the sadness, the toll it took on others, and lived through the toll on her soul.
How do we persist?
Through climate issues, garbage issues, issues that feel so existential that you don't understand how to write about them?
Through the capitalist greed, through the money motivation, and through the feeling that you're not good enough if you're not worth enough.
How do we survive?
The children (yes they are still children) of Marjorie Stoneman Douglas High School give us hope. To see the future, to know the change is coming, to know that we have raised some of these kids right.
But how to find hope, to find camaraderie? How to find that small niche of a person who fits your family like a glove? To understand and truly know you?
Instead we drift in space. Our souls are in orbit, colliding with each other, but not staying long enough to even exchange pleasantries. We smile, we nod, but we don't connect.
How to live?
How?
The fall out after the election and the disgusting nature of that idiot in charge. His abandonment of intelligent ideas, his fleshing out of stupidity, and his ability to corral the worst in our society. It takes a toll on your soul.
We lose friends. They move, they distance themselves for whatever reason. We hurt, we cry, it takes its toll on our souls.
We try to connect, to build something where there is nothing. We don't try hard, because we know it's fleeting.
When we do try, they leave, they move, and at least our saving grace is we didn't get close.
But how does a child live through this? Through the abandonment of friends, through the death of family, through the movement of life? I recall as a child where my family lost 22 people in 20 months. How did we survive? How many did I truly know? I'm no worse for the wear, but my sister was. Because she was younger, because she went, she witnessed the sadness, the toll it took on others, and lived through the toll on her soul.
How do we persist?
Through climate issues, garbage issues, issues that feel so existential that you don't understand how to write about them?
Through the capitalist greed, through the money motivation, and through the feeling that you're not good enough if you're not worth enough.
How do we survive?
The children (yes they are still children) of Marjorie Stoneman Douglas High School give us hope. To see the future, to know the change is coming, to know that we have raised some of these kids right.
But how to find hope, to find camaraderie? How to find that small niche of a person who fits your family like a glove? To understand and truly know you?
Instead we drift in space. Our souls are in orbit, colliding with each other, but not staying long enough to even exchange pleasantries. We smile, we nod, but we don't connect.
How to live?
How?
Tuesday, October 17, 2017
#MeToo
The #metoo campaign has been strong and powerful, but it's not really enough because it, yet again, puts the onus on the woman, which is completely and totally unacceptable, which speaks to this graphic:
While we'd like to see men sit there and say "I've done these horrible things and am trying to make amends by teaching others that my behavior is unacceptable and not doing them again," instead we get the bullshit "not all men" answer.
We also get crappy answers from supposed feminists like Mayim Bialik saying "I dress modestly. I don’t act flirtatiously with men as a policy." And then when she's called out for her offensive and ridiculous statements, she goes on to say "Anyone who knows me and my feminism knows that's absurd and not at all what this piece was about." It's not my job to know her. I can only take what she says at it's face value, which was a blaming accusation against women who dare to be themselves.
An artist named Arvida Byström posed as part of Adidas' most recent campaign where she posed alongside her natural body hair. She got rape threats from this campaign, which is, again, totally awful. But her response about it had one of the most eye-opening statements I think I've eve read. "I do think it is a problem that men use sexually violent language when women doesn’t abide." In case you didn't know, the definition of abide is to bear patiently, to endure without yielding. This is the greatest explanation of how I've been feeling. In this regard, men are not asking us to accept but to abide, to stand by while they feel better about themselves. And when we try to fight back, when we try to tell them the horrible things they've been doing, they whine and whimper that "not all men are like that" or that we're "offending" the "good guys" by lumping them together with the bad ones.
A friend of mine put it beautifully:
There are no good men. As long as we live in a world where any man at anytime can assault women and femmes and be believed, none of us can be "good ones."I am generally an open book. Ask and ye shall receive. But with this campaign, I don't feel empowered. I feel vulnerable. Like by somehow outing myself with the rest of the strong, powerful, amazing women I've seen partake in this movement, I've lost something of myself. So I choose not to post. I choose to spectate and love my fellow women brave enough to stand up. And hopefully, by supporting them, I'll feel support too.
As long as any man can be believed as part of the discrediting of women or femmes in their fight for sexual autonomy, none of us are "good."
Wednesday, March 29, 2017
Consent
We talk about the fact that rape culture is taught to children at a young age and that it influences the rest of their lives. We tell our girls that they don't have the rights to their own bodies in incredible ways that we don't even notice.
The other day I had a horrifying experience that truly helped me realize how freaking screwed up this is.
Took my kiddo (MK) to the zoo with another mom friend (MF) and her two kids (FK1 and FK2) who are on either side of MK in age. FK1 wanted to hold MK's hand but MK wasn't having any of it. FK1 got slightly insistent (as insistent as you can get at 4 years old) but MK didn't let up. FK1 got upset and began crying to the point that MF had to pick up FK1 and give comfort. (FK2 wanted to hold hands too but is too young to get as upset)
MF explained to FK1 that MK didn't feel like holding hands and that it was okay, that MK still liked FK1 and it wasn't about FK1. FK1 calmed down and, eventually, everything went back to normal. Later on in the day they held hands as they went running about, dropping as they ran at times. No one was upset or hurt or confused.
In my head though, my brain was screaming at itself. I watched the scene and thought to myself, MK, why not just hold FK1's hand? What is it going to hurt? When FK1 got upset and started crying, I almost went over to MK and explained how upset FK1 was and that it would be nice to hold hands. But I did nothing. And I'm so fucking glad I did nothing.
This is how it starts.
Had I stepped in, I would have been teetering on a tense issue. I could have set a terrible precedent, that MK should give into others when they feel uncomfortable. I would have quietly taught MK that it is their job to please others, to go against what they want and how they feel.
By doing nothing, I told MK that MK's body is theirs. They don't owe anyone anything. By explaining to FK1 that MK doesn't have to do anything they don't want to, FK1 will learn that they need to wait until people are ready to do things and not to force someone to do something they're not comfortable with.
I have always told MK when going to people's houses or seeing family that they do not need to give hugs and kisses. However, they need to acknowledge people. The phrase I like to use is "you need to say hello/goodbye either with your hand or with your mouth." A wave is perfectly acceptable as is blowing kisses or simply saying a quick "hi." Acknowledgement is important, it teaches our children that all people are important and worth greeting.
Fortunately, I know I'm not alone in this attitude. There are plenty of other people who agree with this concept.
But the fact that I had this argument in my head makes me so angry.
As angry as I was at myself while watching Netflix's Jessica Jones. By the end of episode 8 (AKA WWJD?), I wanted them to work out. I wanted Kilgrave to be good and for her to make him good and for her to stay with him to make it happen. I wanted them to fall in love and live happily ever after, like it was a fucking fairy tale and they could ride off into the sunset. Watching the end of episode 13 (AKA Smile) where Kilgrave says "My God. It's finally over. You're mine now. No more fighting. No more of these ugly displays. You'll be with me now. Look, after a while...however long it takes...I know...I know you will feel what I feel." made my skin crawl, my entire body wanted to run away from my skin.
But that's rape culture for you. Women have been trained that they want so badly to please the man that their wants and desires and hopes go smashing out the window.
Remember
by age 6, girls are less likely than boys to think that they can be brilliant and by the time they are 15, they conform to social expectations, gender stereotypes, gender roles and lack of role models as they turn away from STEM fields. (An entire explanation can be provided here.)
Do I think lack of education on consent leads to a lack of women in Science? No, but rape culture extends further than we'd like. And perhaps by starting to accept our children's choices we can be sure that they accept others' opinions and choices in the future.
EDIT: As I posted this, the following dialog appeared: "European Union laws require you to give European Union visitors information about cookies used on your blog. In many cases, these laws also require you to obtain consent.
As a courtesy, we have added a notice on your blog to explain Google's use of certain Blogger and Google cookies, including use of Google Analytics and AdSense cookies.
You are responsible for confirming this notice actually works for your blog, and that it displays. If you employ other cookies, for example by adding third party features, this notice may not work for you. Learn more about this notice and your responsibilities."
Blogger gets it.
The other day I had a horrifying experience that truly helped me realize how freaking screwed up this is.
Took my kiddo (MK) to the zoo with another mom friend (MF) and her two kids (FK1 and FK2) who are on either side of MK in age. FK1 wanted to hold MK's hand but MK wasn't having any of it. FK1 got slightly insistent (as insistent as you can get at 4 years old) but MK didn't let up. FK1 got upset and began crying to the point that MF had to pick up FK1 and give comfort. (FK2 wanted to hold hands too but is too young to get as upset)
MF explained to FK1 that MK didn't feel like holding hands and that it was okay, that MK still liked FK1 and it wasn't about FK1. FK1 calmed down and, eventually, everything went back to normal. Later on in the day they held hands as they went running about, dropping as they ran at times. No one was upset or hurt or confused.
In my head though, my brain was screaming at itself. I watched the scene and thought to myself, MK, why not just hold FK1's hand? What is it going to hurt? When FK1 got upset and started crying, I almost went over to MK and explained how upset FK1 was and that it would be nice to hold hands. But I did nothing. And I'm so fucking glad I did nothing.
This is how it starts.
Had I stepped in, I would have been teetering on a tense issue. I could have set a terrible precedent, that MK should give into others when they feel uncomfortable. I would have quietly taught MK that it is their job to please others, to go against what they want and how they feel.
By doing nothing, I told MK that MK's body is theirs. They don't owe anyone anything. By explaining to FK1 that MK doesn't have to do anything they don't want to, FK1 will learn that they need to wait until people are ready to do things and not to force someone to do something they're not comfortable with.
I have always told MK when going to people's houses or seeing family that they do not need to give hugs and kisses. However, they need to acknowledge people. The phrase I like to use is "you need to say hello/goodbye either with your hand or with your mouth." A wave is perfectly acceptable as is blowing kisses or simply saying a quick "hi." Acknowledgement is important, it teaches our children that all people are important and worth greeting.
Fortunately, I know I'm not alone in this attitude. There are plenty of other people who agree with this concept.
But the fact that I had this argument in my head makes me so angry.
As angry as I was at myself while watching Netflix's Jessica Jones. By the end of episode 8 (AKA WWJD?), I wanted them to work out. I wanted Kilgrave to be good and for her to make him good and for her to stay with him to make it happen. I wanted them to fall in love and live happily ever after, like it was a fucking fairy tale and they could ride off into the sunset. Watching the end of episode 13 (AKA Smile) where Kilgrave says "My God. It's finally over. You're mine now. No more fighting. No more of these ugly displays. You'll be with me now. Look, after a while...however long it takes...I know...I know you will feel what I feel." made my skin crawl, my entire body wanted to run away from my skin.
But that's rape culture for you. Women have been trained that they want so badly to please the man that their wants and desires and hopes go smashing out the window.
Remember
by age 6, girls are less likely than boys to think that they can be brilliant and by the time they are 15, they conform to social expectations, gender stereotypes, gender roles and lack of role models as they turn away from STEM fields. (An entire explanation can be provided here.)
Do I think lack of education on consent leads to a lack of women in Science? No, but rape culture extends further than we'd like. And perhaps by starting to accept our children's choices we can be sure that they accept others' opinions and choices in the future.
EDIT: As I posted this, the following dialog appeared: "European Union laws require you to give European Union visitors information about cookies used on your blog. In many cases, these laws also require you to obtain consent.
As a courtesy, we have added a notice on your blog to explain Google's use of certain Blogger and Google cookies, including use of Google Analytics and AdSense cookies.
You are responsible for confirming this notice actually works for your blog, and that it displays. If you employ other cookies, for example by adding third party features, this notice may not work for you. Learn more about this notice and your responsibilities."
Blogger gets it.
Monday, September 19, 2016
To pre or not to pre?
We put kiddo into preschool this year, less than a month ago.
On the first day, neither Sweetie nor I got a great feeling from the teacher. Almost like she didn't approve of our situation. She also was very rude to Sweetie when discussing toilet training, simply telling Sweetie to put our kiddo on the toilet and let the kiddo sit there.
Strike 1-sorta
On the second day, Sweetie took kiddo to school and at pick up time, the teacher told Sweetie that kiddo went potty and so kiddo got an M&M. Not previously discussed with us.
Strike 1.5
On the third day, Sweetie was running late so didn't get to talk to the teacher about the M&M. At pick up, teacher sent kiddo home in underwear NOT provided by us and told Sweetie "not sure if your carseat is waterproof, but just go for it."
Also, since day 2, kiddo having nightmare.
Strike 2
Had a meeting with the assistant director about our frustrations, both with communication (SEVERE lack which hasn't even been mentioned here) and the teacher's incompetence. Kiddo moved to a new room where while kiddo goes 2 days a week, rest of kids go 5. Also discussed that calendar sent home had wrong dates on it, given new calendar to properly match website. (Later I had to call to inform them that dates were STILL wrong)
Kiddo in new classroom, no more nightmares.
Finally got proper communication with school (end of week letter sent home) and was met with lovely pictures of kiddo playing and looking like a fun time was being had. Checked website to see that a closed day was coming up, but it was not in the calendar sent home. Called. Confirmed that website is wrong.
ALSO found out that school pictures were taken, with NO notice being sent home to inform parents.
No communication about what is being taught/learned so we can reinforce at home, no communication about photos and wrong information on both the sent home calendar and the website calendar.
We're not being picky. We just want communication.
How effing hard is that???
On the first day, neither Sweetie nor I got a great feeling from the teacher. Almost like she didn't approve of our situation. She also was very rude to Sweetie when discussing toilet training, simply telling Sweetie to put our kiddo on the toilet and let the kiddo sit there.
Strike 1-sorta
On the second day, Sweetie took kiddo to school and at pick up time, the teacher told Sweetie that kiddo went potty and so kiddo got an M&M. Not previously discussed with us.
Strike 1.5
On the third day, Sweetie was running late so didn't get to talk to the teacher about the M&M. At pick up, teacher sent kiddo home in underwear NOT provided by us and told Sweetie "not sure if your carseat is waterproof, but just go for it."
Also, since day 2, kiddo having nightmare.
Strike 2
Had a meeting with the assistant director about our frustrations, both with communication (SEVERE lack which hasn't even been mentioned here) and the teacher's incompetence. Kiddo moved to a new room where while kiddo goes 2 days a week, rest of kids go 5. Also discussed that calendar sent home had wrong dates on it, given new calendar to properly match website. (Later I had to call to inform them that dates were STILL wrong)
Kiddo in new classroom, no more nightmares.
Finally got proper communication with school (end of week letter sent home) and was met with lovely pictures of kiddo playing and looking like a fun time was being had. Checked website to see that a closed day was coming up, but it was not in the calendar sent home. Called. Confirmed that website is wrong.
ALSO found out that school pictures were taken, with NO notice being sent home to inform parents.
No communication about what is being taught/learned so we can reinforce at home, no communication about photos and wrong information on both the sent home calendar and the website calendar.
We're not being picky. We just want communication.
How effing hard is that???
Monday, February 8, 2016
Cupcake
In my weight-loss journey (ugh, that sound so white and annoying), I've been doing rather (mostly) well in my goals for each day. I'm walking a lot, stretching better and carefully monitoring every single piece of digestible matter that enters my body. While guesstimating what I've made as a home-cooked meal can be difficult to quantify, it's still (slightly) satisfying to know that you've been under your calorie count for the last 3 weeks.
And then I felt ill.
Like super ill.
Like I wanted to stick my fingers down my throat to make the feeling go away ill.
But I didn't. And I was proud of me.
For like a minute, and then the ick factor came back and then I was ill all night.
And ill this morning. PLUS a huge headache.
I thought, maybe I'm limiting too much. Maybe I should have a larger breakfast than 2 slices of bread toasted or 1 package of oatmeal. Maybe I need some actual carbs and protein.
So I had a bagel with egg. And damn was it good. And not as many calories as I may have thought.
Okay, so now I'm at work, feeling ill still. Made a doctor's appointment, but it's not for at least 4 more hours. So I have a snack--blueberries. And all of a sudden, I don't feel so ill! I drink an additional 24 ounces of water (to add to the previous 24 ounces) in the hopes I can ride this feeling out.
And then it peters away.
And I'm sitting with this ill feeling.
In the lunch room, are cupcakes. The delicious looking ones, with blue frosting and a Superb Owl ring I can take home to the kiddo.
I made the decision to eat it. And enjoy it. Because really, when did I do that last?
I savored every last bite, washed the ring, drank 24 more ounces of water and reveled in my happiness. I wasn't even mad that I ate it, that I couldn't get those 200 calories back. Maybe I will be later, when I'm looking at dinner and going, sigh, must be nice to eat some carbs with this meal, but for now, that cupcake made me happy.
So today, my motto is cupcake.
Cupcake bitches.
And then I felt ill.
Like super ill.
Like I wanted to stick my fingers down my throat to make the feeling go away ill.
But I didn't. And I was proud of me.
For like a minute, and then the ick factor came back and then I was ill all night.
And ill this morning. PLUS a huge headache.
I thought, maybe I'm limiting too much. Maybe I should have a larger breakfast than 2 slices of bread toasted or 1 package of oatmeal. Maybe I need some actual carbs and protein.
So I had a bagel with egg. And damn was it good. And not as many calories as I may have thought.
Okay, so now I'm at work, feeling ill still. Made a doctor's appointment, but it's not for at least 4 more hours. So I have a snack--blueberries. And all of a sudden, I don't feel so ill! I drink an additional 24 ounces of water (to add to the previous 24 ounces) in the hopes I can ride this feeling out.
And then it peters away.
And I'm sitting with this ill feeling.
In the lunch room, are cupcakes. The delicious looking ones, with blue frosting and a Superb Owl ring I can take home to the kiddo.
I made the decision to eat it. And enjoy it. Because really, when did I do that last?
I savored every last bite, washed the ring, drank 24 more ounces of water and reveled in my happiness. I wasn't even mad that I ate it, that I couldn't get those 200 calories back. Maybe I will be later, when I'm looking at dinner and going, sigh, must be nice to eat some carbs with this meal, but for now, that cupcake made me happy.
So today, my motto is cupcake.
Cupcake bitches.
Friday, October 2, 2015
I am not an object
Today I went for a walk on my lunch break. A simple, normal, everyday thing.
I went to cross the major street and, while on the phone, realized that the two people in the truck waiting to turn left were staring at me. I instantly turned my gaze so I wouldn't notice them. My phone called, so I made another. The crosswalk became available, so I started to walk, all while listening to the voicemail message. I could tell they were following me, but I simply ignored them. I was not interested in anything they had to say. My fly was not down. I hadn't dropped anything. There should have been no need for them to talk to me.
When I got across the street, I heard one of them yell out "HELLOOOOO????" so I unfortunately turned to see them. They were trying to yell something to me, but with the roar of the street and the wind, I could not hear what they were saying. Part of me feared that they'd make a u-turn to come talk to me. Thank heavens they did not.
It was not a pleasant experience. It was creepy, it was mortifying and it was demeaning.
There are days where I feel like this. Other times, the feeling passes and I feel more like a person entitled to cross the street.
Lately, I've seen few videos of catcalling, mainly focusing on the ones where women's boyfriends and fathers see what they deal with. I've also seen the ones where women walk around New York and Comic Con. And here's one explaining what catcalling "really means." And another one explaining why it's a compliment. Here's a satire about how women want to be catcalled. I can't find it anymore, but I found a video once before of a woman walking up to men on the street and saying things that she thought they'd like to hear, like how much she wants his dick or how she wants him to take her. Men seemed to enjoy it.
Then there's this video. I usually like this company's videos, but this is on a different level. The fact that harassment is put in quotation marks makes me beyond uncomfortable. They seem to want to express that women who say they've been harassed are just too sensitive, that it's a complement, that it's something to shrug off.
I really like this group's reaction to the video, most specifically one guy's statement of "I don't wanna hear one more privileged person telling me how much harder they have it then the unprivileged." One of the women says that "at the root of feminism, is the fact that we want to feel as safe as men do and just comfortable, the same amount of comfort that you feel."
Some of the comments in the videos explain that if a woman does not want to be catcalled, she should not wear tight clothes. There is no damn way to express my rage for that statement. The next time someone says that to me as an explanation for why catcalling/rape/harassment/etc is okay, I'm going to Hulk out and destroy some people.
A lot of the videos are skewed, I will admit. The majority of catcallers are not white while the women are. And most men, when presented with the question "would you want someone to do this to your mother or your sister?" respond with "NO!"
So then why do they do it?
I don't know. I really wish I did.
There are some people who have figured out how to respectfully go up to the person they are attracted to on the street and have a lovely conversation which could possibly end up in a date.
I am curious, however, what a catcaller would do if one of the people who they gave their phone number to called? Or, even scarier, used the phone number to find out where they lived and, gasp, showed up at their doorstep.
I wish I had the guts to stand up to those men today. I wish I wasn't afraid to ask them why they thought this was appropriate. I wish I had gotten angry at the man who thanked me for running across the street so I didn't miss the very long light with my child in a stroller.
I am not an object.
I am a person.
And I have a right to feel safe, to feel comfortable and to feel like a human being.
I went to cross the major street and, while on the phone, realized that the two people in the truck waiting to turn left were staring at me. I instantly turned my gaze so I wouldn't notice them. My phone called, so I made another. The crosswalk became available, so I started to walk, all while listening to the voicemail message. I could tell they were following me, but I simply ignored them. I was not interested in anything they had to say. My fly was not down. I hadn't dropped anything. There should have been no need for them to talk to me.
When I got across the street, I heard one of them yell out "HELLOOOOO????" so I unfortunately turned to see them. They were trying to yell something to me, but with the roar of the street and the wind, I could not hear what they were saying. Part of me feared that they'd make a u-turn to come talk to me. Thank heavens they did not.
It was not a pleasant experience. It was creepy, it was mortifying and it was demeaning.
There are days where I feel like this. Other times, the feeling passes and I feel more like a person entitled to cross the street.
Lately, I've seen few videos of catcalling, mainly focusing on the ones where women's boyfriends and fathers see what they deal with. I've also seen the ones where women walk around New York and Comic Con. And here's one explaining what catcalling "really means." And another one explaining why it's a compliment. Here's a satire about how women want to be catcalled. I can't find it anymore, but I found a video once before of a woman walking up to men on the street and saying things that she thought they'd like to hear, like how much she wants his dick or how she wants him to take her. Men seemed to enjoy it.
Then there's this video. I usually like this company's videos, but this is on a different level. The fact that harassment is put in quotation marks makes me beyond uncomfortable. They seem to want to express that women who say they've been harassed are just too sensitive, that it's a complement, that it's something to shrug off.
I really like this group's reaction to the video, most specifically one guy's statement of "I don't wanna hear one more privileged person telling me how much harder they have it then the unprivileged." One of the women says that "at the root of feminism, is the fact that we want to feel as safe as men do and just comfortable, the same amount of comfort that you feel."
Some of the comments in the videos explain that if a woman does not want to be catcalled, she should not wear tight clothes. There is no damn way to express my rage for that statement. The next time someone says that to me as an explanation for why catcalling/rape/harassment/etc is okay, I'm going to Hulk out and destroy some people.
A lot of the videos are skewed, I will admit. The majority of catcallers are not white while the women are. And most men, when presented with the question "would you want someone to do this to your mother or your sister?" respond with "NO!"
So then why do they do it?
I don't know. I really wish I did.
There are some people who have figured out how to respectfully go up to the person they are attracted to on the street and have a lovely conversation which could possibly end up in a date.
I am curious, however, what a catcaller would do if one of the people who they gave their phone number to called? Or, even scarier, used the phone number to find out where they lived and, gasp, showed up at their doorstep.
I wish I had the guts to stand up to those men today. I wish I wasn't afraid to ask them why they thought this was appropriate. I wish I had gotten angry at the man who thanked me for running across the street so I didn't miss the very long light with my child in a stroller.
I am not an object.
I am a person.
And I have a right to feel safe, to feel comfortable and to feel like a human being.
Friday, September 11, 2015
Tuesday, September 8, 2015
Monday, August 17, 2015
Thursday, August 13, 2015
In the eye of the beholder
I have a distinct memory of a boy from my 9th grade P.E. class “asking me out” (which of course meant you were in a relationship) and being very confused because we had never hung out outside of class. I politely turned him down and we returned to our regularly scheduled program of running miles, but I recall thinking it was really weird.
When I was about 14 years old, I made the determination that no one was going to love me for my looks and that I was going to have to have an amazing personality and a great sense of humor for anyone to want to “go out” with me. I made sure to work on myself, know myself and be happy with myself. It didn’t always work, but it was something I returned to after periods of insecurity. Two of my best friends soon got into long relationships (one of which is still going after 10 years of marriage and a baby), which made things a little harder. But I still always knew that I had to be on point, because I was not pretty enough, nor would I ever be pretty enough, to warrant a date.
When I went to college, this viewpoint did not change. I knew I’d never be the thin girl, the pretty girl, the popular girl. It was hard at times, especially when I went on birthright. Well, more accurately, after my birthright trip, when my best friend and I stayed on. She got hit on and leered at on a daily basis while I was pretty much ignored. I’m not sure why I though this was so important, especially from strange men on the street, but somehow it got to me, even though I was in a relationship (which would end 3 months after I got back).
In high school, a long time friend and I had an important mantra. We’d walk each other to 6th period math in 9th grade (damn I have a great memory!) and when we’d part, we’d say “you’re beautiful and you can get guys.” It was something I returned to time and time again, to ensure that my self-esteem didn’t fall below a certain minimum. I’d go back to the mantra and think about how empowering it was to take that power from anyone else, because I was relying on myself, and my girlfriend, to say it. Because we could find the beauty in ourselves and didn’t need anyone else to justify it. This followed us through high school and into college and now that we’re both married, it’s subsisted as an inside joke.
My first serious relationship was with a boy (mentioned above) who I fell in love with in high school. He was the jock, the wrestler, the popular one. We flirted like crazy during our drama class and I fell deeper and deeper in love. Well, maybe it was love; it was certainly lust. I think he knew how I felt and enjoyed teasing me. Okay, I know he enjoyed teasing me. I’d never, ever say that he molested me, but he did squeeze my breasts during school, which I would say was molestation for anyone else, especially since he was over a year older than me.
I tried to date him. Really, really tried. But I knew he was the jock and I was the average, boring, fat, unpopular girl who was in love with him. It seemed pathetic. And it probably was pathetic.
We tried to reconnect over Thanksgiving break my first year in college. He did something (whatever it was) that irritated me, so I let it go. In March, I called to rib him about something (again, whatever it was) and he was excited to hear from me. We ended up dating for 6 months. I was still the average, boring, fat, unpopular girl, but there was no longer any high school people to keep my fear in check. On our first “date” he took me to a house party with some friends of his. I never saw them again, but I left that night feeling like I was walking on a cloud. The popular boy liked me! He wanted to kiss me! He wanted to be with me and didn’t want to date anyone else (direct quote, btw).
Throughout our relationship, I knew I loved him more. My mom always said he loved me the best way he could, that he just didn’t know any better. It wasn’t that we had a bad relationship, we just had a 15 year old person’s relationship, where you fall hard, love fast, and never look back. When it ended, I cried, but it wasn’t beyond devastating, because I knew he wasn’t helping me grow as a person.
Looking back, it makes me cringe. I never felt worthy of him, his time or his presence. I never felt beautiful around him because he was the beautiful one. I knew he was out of my league and he was dating below his attractiveness level. I don’t know if he knew I had these issues because, hey, it was a first love relationship. You don’t talk about shit like that.
Being desirable and being beautiful have never crossed paths in my book. Right before this relationship ended, a new boy entered my life who made me feel exquisite. Even after the relationship ended, I never started anything with the new boy–we were just too different. With my first love, I never felt desired. It was almost as though I was convenient for him, even though we were 90 miles away and spent hours on the phone each night. The new boy told me he wanted to hold my hand, he wanted to cuddle with me, he wanted to talk with me. It changed my viewpoint on the world and let me know that I was worthy of someone’s time, love and attention like my previous relationship never had.
6 months later, a friend set me up. The pace of the relationship was fast, but not in a “I’m falling in love” way. More like a “this is loads of fun” and a “we’re getting to know each other” way, which is how I described it to people (mostly my parent’s friends) when they asked if the relationship was getting serious.
He loved me, my god did he love me. And I started to fall in love with him, both as a person and as a soul, a deeper love than I had ever felt. He gave me something my first love never did. A profound understanding of my own fabulousness. My self-confidence had never been so high as when we really got beyond the honeymoon stage of dating. I suddenly knew that I had always been amazing and fantastic and that my sass and sarcasm were beyond vital to life. Our lives together have helped us bring out things in each other we didn’t know we had.
Since getting married, a few friends have lacked self-esteem and self-confidence. Taking a page out of previously mentioned long-time friend’s book, I began to do a little self instruction, to go along with their already occurring therapy (for varying reasons). I told each of them they had to look in the mirror and say something to the effect of “you’re fucking amazing” or “you’re fucking beautiful.” The fucking part was really important, I felt, because it conveyed the seriousness of the situation. Both friends came through their depression and have become better people for it, although whether my efforts worked or not I’m uncertain.
After my daughter was born, my partner and I each had moments where we realized we were putting an emphasis on our daughter’s looks. The term “cute” is always applied babies, because they’re so damned cute! The issue we both had was with the words “pretty” and “beautiful,” to the point where my sister was concerned about using the words in front of us. Oh no!, she’d say, don’t tell the 9 month old she’s pretty!, she might get a complex if she doesn’t feel like she fits the bill! She asked what was wrong with the word beautiful and I responded by saying that we strive to ensure our daughter is reassured of her creativity, fabulousness and awesomeness rather than by her looks. She asked again, what is wrong with the word beautiful. And I didn’t really have an answer.
There are days when my husband will take a long look and me, sigh and say “my god you’re gorgeous” or “damn, you’re sexy” or even “you’re so beautiful.” Sometimes I smile, other times I pat him on the head. Part of me knows he’s serious and truly means it, but other times, I feel as though it is something he has been programmed to say, as though it came out of the husband hand-book.
When asked if I feel beautiful, the answer is always an unequivocally no. Since been a teenager, being beautiful has never been a goal of mine. I’ll wear some makeup at times and think, eh, not bad, but the reality of the situation is that I think I’m pretty boring and plain looking. My husband has always been attracted to the average girl-next-door, plain-jane type of girl. So maybe that plays into it.
There are days I’ll think, I’d like to be thinner, but then I see a piece of beautifully crafted dark chocolate and think, eh, I’m over it. There are days I think, I should go on a diet, but then I play with my daughter and think, I’d rather she see people in her life who don’t look like what she’ll find in the media, because inevitably she’ll inherit my genes and have to be okay with what she sees in the mirror.
I’ve accepted what I see in the mirror. It may not be anyone’s ideal of perfection, but it’s the body I was given. And I refuse to make my life a living hell to attain someone else’s image of beauty. I refuse to let the beauty industry own my soul, to make me feel bad about myself. I can do that on my own, why pay thousands of dollars to money-seeking companies to tell me?
They say beauty is in the eye of the beholder. It is not my body but my life that should be beautiful. My life should amount to the beautiful things I’ve done, the wondrous things I’ve created and the times I spent making the world a better place.
I know that I am
Amazing
Boss
Creative
Dramatic
Energetic
Ferocious
Genuine
Handy
Intelligent
Jocular
Kick-ass
Loud
Mischievous
Nerdy
Open-minded
Pragmatic
Quick to help
Rad
Sweet
Terrific
Unwavering
Valuable
Wide eyed
Xtra ordinary
Yearning for knowledge
Zany
Friday, June 19, 2015
Passive Aggressive - Inner monologue
Disclaimer: Yes, there is much more important things going on in the world right now. As I cannot intelligently express how I feel about them in ways others have not already done, I can focus on the negative aspects of my life in order to clear my head to be able to do some good in the world. Because if I focus on this too much, I can't do anything else today.
Passive aggressive is such a necessary enemy, at times.
Hence this post.
Which is commenting on passive aggressive behavior.
Most likely the person this is about won't read this. And that's most likely good.
In any case,
Srsly though? Don't comment about what other people do on social media by acting like a self-righteous, high-and-mighty asshole. Social Media is a giant force you cannot stop. It's how tons of people get their news and by spreading around important information, perhaps some people will realize what's going on. And if not, that's fine too.
Your comments were not nice and not in good faith of friendship. They were terribly rude, as it's incredibly obvious you were talking about Sweetie, who is more than willing to look past your intense obnoxiousness. I'm not.
And it makes me kinda loathe you.
And you're already on thin ice in my book right now.
Not that you actually care.
But it makes me feel better to think that you should care, because I've known you for 10 years. And if you're grating on me this much, without actually knowing it, maybe it's time we part paths and go our separate ways.
Although it's not like we see each other more than once per year, and sometimes not even that. Nor do we talk. And when I try, either by contacting you or your SO, I get ignored. Like earlier this week, when I emailed your SO and wrote the line "but if you don't want to see us, then nevermind." And I never heard back.
So I guess you don't want to see us.
Maybe I should take the hint.
Okay, that's good.
Hint taken.
Gotcha.
Done.
Sigh.
::Goes about her day and does nothing about what's written above::
Tuesday, June 17, 2014
Updated awkward moment
The follow up to this awkward moment is just as confusing as the first.
My opinion after I wrote the previous post became that I rock and anyone who can't or doesn't want to hang can go chill in a corner. It's a viewpoint I inherited from my father and it's one that I rather enjoy.
The ex-friend (EF) mentioned in that post was the wedding coordinator for a mutual friend's wedding where the bride had asked me to speak on behalf of her during the ceremony. Part of me was incredibly nervous at the prospect of seeing EF while the other part of me knew I looked fabulous for being 4 months post-baby.
Sweetie knew I had been nervous about this for a while. After we dropped DD off at my parents, we drove up to the location. Ideas swirled in my head and I was very curious to know what to expect. Of course, I would be polite and lovely, but would she? I knew I would have to talk to her, but to what extent?
Sweetie and I ran into the bride upon arriving at the hotel. She informed me of where I needed to be and when I'd be talking which was very helpful.
When we got to the site, I stood with Sweetie and a friend of ours we hadn't seen in a while. I saw EF walking up to us and tried really hard to keep my hopes down. She apologized and interrupted our conversation, which was fine, to tell me what the plan was. I thanked her and told her that I had spoken to the bride and that I knew what to do. I was jocular. I was jovial. I was polite. I was civil.
And. That. Was. It.
She didn't say one word to me the rest of the night. She made a point of walking past me and ignoring me. So, like a petulant child, I chose to do the same. She had her husband and business partner with her. Her husband and Sweetie exchanged pleasantries while her business partner gushed about how good I looked for being 4 months post-baby.
When we left, I walked past her with my sister behind me. She realized my sister was leaving and opened her arms up to give a large hug to her, knowing specifically that I was watching.
But
It wasn't heartwrenching like I thought it would be. It was tough and it was weird and it was really annoying not to get an answer, but it was fine.
I obsessed about it for a couple of days afterwards and then had (mostly) let it go by the time the bride came to visit to meet DD.
I asked the bride if she knew what had happened. She thought EF would have talked to me at the wedding. I told her that had not occurred and she was surprised. She had asked EF about the whole thing and told me that EF told her that she wished me no ill-will, but that was all she got.
So. Another friend out of my life I suppose. But what am I truly missing? When I re-read the previous post, I had forgotten how much effort I had put into the relationship to get nothing in return. Having a child changes that, I get it. But it doesn't mean that anyone who was important to you should fall by the wayside.
So to all my friends (out there in cyberspace and in real life), know that I love you, you are important and appreciated. If I don't call you back, know that I suck, but that I still love you. :)
My opinion after I wrote the previous post became that I rock and anyone who can't or doesn't want to hang can go chill in a corner. It's a viewpoint I inherited from my father and it's one that I rather enjoy.
The ex-friend (EF) mentioned in that post was the wedding coordinator for a mutual friend's wedding where the bride had asked me to speak on behalf of her during the ceremony. Part of me was incredibly nervous at the prospect of seeing EF while the other part of me knew I looked fabulous for being 4 months post-baby.
Sweetie knew I had been nervous about this for a while. After we dropped DD off at my parents, we drove up to the location. Ideas swirled in my head and I was very curious to know what to expect. Of course, I would be polite and lovely, but would she? I knew I would have to talk to her, but to what extent?
Sweetie and I ran into the bride upon arriving at the hotel. She informed me of where I needed to be and when I'd be talking which was very helpful.
When we got to the site, I stood with Sweetie and a friend of ours we hadn't seen in a while. I saw EF walking up to us and tried really hard to keep my hopes down. She apologized and interrupted our conversation, which was fine, to tell me what the plan was. I thanked her and told her that I had spoken to the bride and that I knew what to do. I was jocular. I was jovial. I was polite. I was civil.
And. That. Was. It.
She didn't say one word to me the rest of the night. She made a point of walking past me and ignoring me. So, like a petulant child, I chose to do the same. She had her husband and business partner with her. Her husband and Sweetie exchanged pleasantries while her business partner gushed about how good I looked for being 4 months post-baby.
When we left, I walked past her with my sister behind me. She realized my sister was leaving and opened her arms up to give a large hug to her, knowing specifically that I was watching.
But
It wasn't heartwrenching like I thought it would be. It was tough and it was weird and it was really annoying not to get an answer, but it was fine.
I obsessed about it for a couple of days afterwards and then had (mostly) let it go by the time the bride came to visit to meet DD.
I asked the bride if she knew what had happened. She thought EF would have talked to me at the wedding. I told her that had not occurred and she was surprised. She had asked EF about the whole thing and told me that EF told her that she wished me no ill-will, but that was all she got.
So. Another friend out of my life I suppose. But what am I truly missing? When I re-read the previous post, I had forgotten how much effort I had put into the relationship to get nothing in return. Having a child changes that, I get it. But it doesn't mean that anyone who was important to you should fall by the wayside.
So to all my friends (out there in cyberspace and in real life), know that I love you, you are important and appreciated. If I don't call you back, know that I suck, but that I still love you. :)
Friday, May 30, 2014
Rape Culture is Damaging my 5 Month Old
With everything going on with that asshat in Isla Vista, it got me thinking. Since this is my blog and it's about my thoughts, I figured if anyone argues with me, I can kick them to the curb and tell them to shut up.
I feel kinda guilty.
And while it's a stupid statement to make, it gets even weirder when I say the next part.
I feel kinda guilty as I know I would never be in that position because don't think I'm attractive enough to be hit on.
I mean, I know I'm beautiful inside and out, bla bla bla. But I don't think I'm conventionally pretty. I have never been approached at a bar (although I rarely go to them) nor has anyone offered to buy me a drink. I've only ever had two men offer to buy me a drink--one was at a bachelorette party because I went to buy a round of drinks and he bought for everyone standing at the bar. The other was a man trying desperately to hit on my friend and offered a round of drinks to the table, hoping it would impress her (it didn't).
I suppose this could be because I've been with my sweetie for almost 9.5 years and we were together before I reached the legal drinking age. Maybe it's because I'm so oblivious that if someone wanted to come talk to me, I'd never know they were looking at me.
But generally, I think it's because I'm not worth approaching.
Which could be a good thing. It could mean that men know I'm not stupid enough to fall for their one-liners, their free drinks or their fake interest. They know they're not going to get me home and in bed. It could be that put off an air of "leave me alone" or "I'm taken" or "I'm not interested." It could be that, as I previously mentioned) I rarely go to bars.
But generally, I think it's because I'm not the ideal type of girl to hit on. I'm not leggy. I'm not cute (you know, like a button [geez, who thinks of these phrases?]). I don't dress sexy, mostly because it's rather uncomfortable, which is the same reason I'm rarely in heels. I don't have flowing blonde hair or perfect skin.
In other words, I'm flawed.
However, NONE of this upsets me or makes me feel guilty.
What makes me feel guilty is that the women whose lives were ended on last Friday night possibly felt the same way. They were just out, for a night of fun, with friends, or whomever. And because they were approachable, or whatever, some asshat decided not to let them live, because he wasn't getting what he "needed."
What he "needed."
Cuz that's all that matters, right? Is what he "needed."
Who cares about what they wanted or who they were. Because they were simply a vehicle for him to get what he "needed."
The callousness and coldness of that statement is insurmountable to me. The fact that others would agree with his viewpoints boggles my mind and make me want to scream at the top of my lungs.
I can't understand why everyone isn't going out of their minds on this. Or why people keep denying that rape culture exists. I. Just. Don't. Get. It.
My guilt exists because feeling ordinary has now become safe. No one raises their child with the hopes that they will be average, ordinary, simple or forgettable. We want them to inspire, to be incredible and to change the world for the better.
But with this new world, would it be best to raise my now 5 month old to be ordinary? Not to stick out in the hopes of keeping her life and her body safe? Should I tell her not to raise her hand in class so she is not noticed, to not strive for her best because it could endanger her, to not go after what she wants because other parents cannot raise their children to respect other people?
Everything boils down to that word.
Respect.
Rape culture stems from a disrespect for and of women and a thought process that women are not people with feelings, hopes and dreams of their own. While initially it started in adults with men disrespecting women, it has now morphed into men attempting to take possession of women's bodies and now their minds as well. How early does it start? While mean girl culture can begin in Kindergarten, little girls have always been told not to be too smart or no one will want to be friends with them/get a boyfriend/etc. To play dumb so they can get ahead in life. To do things safely because the world is too dangerous. A writer at Jezebel has a great post where the author expresses her anger about not being able to do things her brother did "because it wasn't safe for me." Women in certain cultures are taught to cover up because their beauty or their skin can be too much of a distraction for men. Men might lose their humanity and jump at the chance when they see a collarbone or a wisp of hair.
I want to raise my daughter in a world where she is accepted for whoever she is. Unfortunately, it is looking as though that world will never exist. Unless we start with the little things and really become aware about what we are saying, how we are saying it and how it impacts others. In other words, act like a civil, loving, respectful human being.
Be. Civil. Civility is important. It's what makes up our souls, gives us breath and life.
I feel kinda guilty.
And while it's a stupid statement to make, it gets even weirder when I say the next part.
I feel kinda guilty as I know I would never be in that position because don't think I'm attractive enough to be hit on.
I mean, I know I'm beautiful inside and out, bla bla bla. But I don't think I'm conventionally pretty. I have never been approached at a bar (although I rarely go to them) nor has anyone offered to buy me a drink. I've only ever had two men offer to buy me a drink--one was at a bachelorette party because I went to buy a round of drinks and he bought for everyone standing at the bar. The other was a man trying desperately to hit on my friend and offered a round of drinks to the table, hoping it would impress her (it didn't).
I suppose this could be because I've been with my sweetie for almost 9.5 years and we were together before I reached the legal drinking age. Maybe it's because I'm so oblivious that if someone wanted to come talk to me, I'd never know they were looking at me.
But generally, I think it's because I'm not worth approaching.
Which could be a good thing. It could mean that men know I'm not stupid enough to fall for their one-liners, their free drinks or their fake interest. They know they're not going to get me home and in bed. It could be that put off an air of "leave me alone" or "I'm taken" or "I'm not interested." It could be that, as I previously mentioned) I rarely go to bars.
But generally, I think it's because I'm not the ideal type of girl to hit on. I'm not leggy. I'm not cute (you know, like a button [geez, who thinks of these phrases?]). I don't dress sexy, mostly because it's rather uncomfortable, which is the same reason I'm rarely in heels. I don't have flowing blonde hair or perfect skin.
In other words, I'm flawed.
However, NONE of this upsets me or makes me feel guilty.
What makes me feel guilty is that the women whose lives were ended on last Friday night possibly felt the same way. They were just out, for a night of fun, with friends, or whomever. And because they were approachable, or whatever, some asshat decided not to let them live, because he wasn't getting what he "needed."
What he "needed."
Cuz that's all that matters, right? Is what he "needed."
Who cares about what they wanted or who they were. Because they were simply a vehicle for him to get what he "needed."
The callousness and coldness of that statement is insurmountable to me. The fact that others would agree with his viewpoints boggles my mind and make me want to scream at the top of my lungs.
I can't understand why everyone isn't going out of their minds on this. Or why people keep denying that rape culture exists. I. Just. Don't. Get. It.
My guilt exists because feeling ordinary has now become safe. No one raises their child with the hopes that they will be average, ordinary, simple or forgettable. We want them to inspire, to be incredible and to change the world for the better.
But with this new world, would it be best to raise my now 5 month old to be ordinary? Not to stick out in the hopes of keeping her life and her body safe? Should I tell her not to raise her hand in class so she is not noticed, to not strive for her best because it could endanger her, to not go after what she wants because other parents cannot raise their children to respect other people?
Everything boils down to that word.
Respect.
Rape culture stems from a disrespect for and of women and a thought process that women are not people with feelings, hopes and dreams of their own. While initially it started in adults with men disrespecting women, it has now morphed into men attempting to take possession of women's bodies and now their minds as well. How early does it start? While mean girl culture can begin in Kindergarten, little girls have always been told not to be too smart or no one will want to be friends with them/get a boyfriend/etc. To play dumb so they can get ahead in life. To do things safely because the world is too dangerous. A writer at Jezebel has a great post where the author expresses her anger about not being able to do things her brother did "because it wasn't safe for me." Women in certain cultures are taught to cover up because their beauty or their skin can be too much of a distraction for men. Men might lose their humanity and jump at the chance when they see a collarbone or a wisp of hair.
I want to raise my daughter in a world where she is accepted for whoever she is. Unfortunately, it is looking as though that world will never exist. Unless we start with the little things and really become aware about what we are saying, how we are saying it and how it impacts others. In other words, act like a civil, loving, respectful human being.
Be. Civil. Civility is important. It's what makes up our souls, gives us breath and life.
Saturday, May 10, 2014
Mother's Day
It's not until I became a mom that I truly understood Mother's Day.
I love my mom. She's amazing and incredible and just all around awesome.
But I never understood how amazing and incredible and awesome. Until now.
I now understand how perfect kisses are. How magical hugs are. How fantastical smiles are.
How seeing your child recognize you can make you cry and how having your hair yanked on because they're holding onto you so tight is the best possible thing.
I understand how (although I never did this) pouring so much love and emotion into someone who tells you "I hate you" can truly break your heart.
So mom, I'm proud to be your daughter. You taught me how to love, how to be respectful, how to laugh, to cry, to grieve and how to be a good parent. I only hope I can make you proud.
I love my mom. She's amazing and incredible and just all around awesome.
But I never understood how amazing and incredible and awesome. Until now.
I now understand how perfect kisses are. How magical hugs are. How fantastical smiles are.
How seeing your child recognize you can make you cry and how having your hair yanked on because they're holding onto you so tight is the best possible thing.
I understand how (although I never did this) pouring so much love and emotion into someone who tells you "I hate you" can truly break your heart.
So mom, I'm proud to be your daughter. You taught me how to love, how to be respectful, how to laugh, to cry, to grieve and how to be a good parent. I only hope I can make you proud.
Thursday, April 17, 2014
WTF?!?!?!
http://www.wfaa.com/news/world/Jews-ordered-to-register-in-east-Ukraine-255652231.html
I'm sorry. What?!?!?!?!?!
I'm sorry. What?!?!?!?!?!
Thursday, July 11, 2013
What's Wrong with This Country?
Well hello old friend. Nice to see you again.
The changing atmosphere of the American political machine is something I'd like to never discuss.
However, the War on Women in America is something that is discussed with passion in my home. Wendy Davis is a true American hero and I will be proud to teach my children about her and about her courage, ambition and bravery.
However, I will not go into a lengthy discussion of this.
I am a little confused though...
I have a friend (who I'm sure will read this and comment and the discussion/debate/war will be rather interesting) who posted about abortion during his wife's first pregnancy. In discussions with him, he saw bringing a child into the world as a way to make the world a better place (and he'll correct me on the diction if I'm wrong here). He saw it as a huge responsibility to raise a just and moral child because this child could be a leader in the future world. He no longer saw himself on an island, caring not for what passed him by in the water.
He was already pro-life/anti-choice. But in one of his blog posts in particular, his opinions were far more focused on the fact that he thought that pro-choice people wanted to take away his child (I guess in the same way gun enthusiasts think I want to come into their homes and take their guns). I cannot understand for the life of me why he thought this way. If he is comfortable with me posting his now defunct blog, I will later link it here. However, I do not want to invade his privacy if he is uncomfortable with this. Yes, we live in a day and age where if you put something on the internet, too bad. I don't want to be that person. But here are some excerpts that illustrate the point he was making:
He discusses three types of people who are not against abortion. This is his description of the third group:
I questioned him about his worry that others would take his child away from him. He did not address this question, but instead focused on the fact that others called his unborn child non-human or sub-human. I may not be completely up on "abortion literature," but I can say that I've been pro-choice my entire life and have never heard the phrase "sub-human." Nor has my mother, who worked in an abortion clinic in the 1980s.
I am a firm believer that a fetus is not a living, breathing child until it exits the womb and breathes on his or her own. That belief comes from many locations, but is strengthened by my faith. I have not been told by anyone that my faith is wrong in this respect, which I appreciate. However, based upon the way that anonymous posting occurs, I assume that accusation is not far off.
Becoming pregnant has only strengthened my views on abortion. It has only reassured me that people who choose go through this lengthy, painful process should do so because they want a child. They want to love and nurture and be good parents. They should not be forced to do so because of someone else's view of the world and of what makes a person good.
Becoming pregnant is a choice my partner and I came to. We chose to bring another breathing, loving Liberal into this world. And we could not be happier.
However, our hope is that this loving, amazing Liberal does just what my friend hopes his child will--bring about the change that we hope for the world.
The problem is that what we think will help the world and what he thinks will help the world are two very different ideals. And there's no way to see eye-to-eye.
This is the problem with Congress. Each side in Congress sees the other side as a godless enemy who's only goal is to destroy humankind. Do I agree with some of this? Unfortunately, yes. Do I think that the other side is trying to plunge us back into the dark ages where women sat at home, barefoot and pregnant and we taught no sex education to our children in the hopes that they wouldn't replicate our mistakes? (http://bit.ly/12kCDjM) Perhaps. Do I think that they are bad people who will burn in whatever metaphorical place people call hell? No. Do I think that they have not had a rational conversation in quite a long time to come to this conclusion? Perhaps.
While this post was not supposed to be about the political landscape, it would seem that as we have no ability to approach our opposing-viewed persons as equals with minds and thoughts that are acceptable as we live in a "free" country, we cannot expect to elect people who can do what we can't.
And this, my dear friends, is what is wrong with this country. We have no ability to see the other side of the coin, to be able to say to our neighbors "I may not agree with you, but I'll fight to the death your right to say it" or to reach across and simply say, "hey, I know how you feel about XYZ, but how do you feel about knitting/crocheting/cosplaying/Doctor Who/Firefly/cars/hockey/lacross/the Olympics/the World Cup/etc.?" To be able to find common ground starts a dialog, one which hopefully is encouraged with the love that we are SUPPOSED to have for each other.
And for those who truly believe that there is no way to love their neighbors, no matter what crime they feel these neighbors have committed, I simply refer them to Matthew 5:44 "But I say unto you, Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you" or Matthew 19:19 "Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself" or Mathew 22:39 "Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself" or Mark 12:31 "Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself" or Luke 6: 27-29 "But I say unto you which hear, Love your enemies, do good to them which hate you, Bless them that curse you, and pray for them which despitefully use you. And unto him that smiteth thee on the [one] cheek offer also the other; and him that taketh away thy cloke forbid not [to take thy] coat also." or Luke 6:35 "love ye your enemies, and do good, and lend, hoping for nothing again; and your reward shall be great, and ye shall be the children of the Highest: for he is kind unto the unthankful and [to] the evil." or John 13:34 "A new commandment I give unto you, That ye love one another; as I have loved you, that ye also love one another."
I wonder if they'll still protest...
The changing atmosphere of the American political machine is something I'd like to never discuss.
However, the War on Women in America is something that is discussed with passion in my home. Wendy Davis is a true American hero and I will be proud to teach my children about her and about her courage, ambition and bravery.
However, I will not go into a lengthy discussion of this.
I am a little confused though...
I have a friend (who I'm sure will read this and comment and the discussion/debate/war will be rather interesting) who posted about abortion during his wife's first pregnancy. In discussions with him, he saw bringing a child into the world as a way to make the world a better place (and he'll correct me on the diction if I'm wrong here). He saw it as a huge responsibility to raise a just and moral child because this child could be a leader in the future world. He no longer saw himself on an island, caring not for what passed him by in the water.
He was already pro-life/anti-choice. But in one of his blog posts in particular, his opinions were far more focused on the fact that he thought that pro-choice people wanted to take away his child (I guess in the same way gun enthusiasts think I want to come into their homes and take their guns). I cannot understand for the life of me why he thought this way. If he is comfortable with me posting his now defunct blog, I will later link it here. However, I do not want to invade his privacy if he is uncomfortable with this. Yes, we live in a day and age where if you put something on the internet, too bad. I don't want to be that person. But here are some excerpts that illustrate the point he was making:
And that is why my fury is beyond anything that this world could cause when there are those who would deny my solemn responsibility to protect my child.
He discusses three types of people who are not against abortion. This is his description of the third group:
These are those who do not merely deny my resposibility to protect my wife and child; they do not merely fail to help me guard them from the butchers who would take the innocent life and, in the process, grievously wound my wife. No, the third group are those who openly champion the cause of the butcher. They are the ones who stand up and applaude those evil men who would slice my child into pieces and suck him out of my wife's body; or poison him with salt; or pull her feet-first out of my wife and then, when she is mere inches from birth, slice open the back of her sweet, precious little head and suction out her brains; or use any one of the cruel and barbaric practices that have been designed to destroy those who are most innocent and most needing of our protection.
I questioned him about his worry that others would take his child away from him. He did not address this question, but instead focused on the fact that others called his unborn child non-human or sub-human. I may not be completely up on "abortion literature," but I can say that I've been pro-choice my entire life and have never heard the phrase "sub-human." Nor has my mother, who worked in an abortion clinic in the 1980s.
I am a firm believer that a fetus is not a living, breathing child until it exits the womb and breathes on his or her own. That belief comes from many locations, but is strengthened by my faith. I have not been told by anyone that my faith is wrong in this respect, which I appreciate. However, based upon the way that anonymous posting occurs, I assume that accusation is not far off.
Becoming pregnant is a choice my partner and I came to. We chose to bring another breathing, loving Liberal into this world. And we could not be happier.
However, our hope is that this loving, amazing Liberal does just what my friend hopes his child will--bring about the change that we hope for the world.
The problem is that what we think will help the world and what he thinks will help the world are two very different ideals. And there's no way to see eye-to-eye.
This is the problem with Congress. Each side in Congress sees the other side as a godless enemy who's only goal is to destroy humankind. Do I agree with some of this? Unfortunately, yes. Do I think that the other side is trying to plunge us back into the dark ages where women sat at home, barefoot and pregnant and we taught no sex education to our children in the hopes that they wouldn't replicate our mistakes? (http://bit.ly/12kCDjM) Perhaps. Do I think that they are bad people who will burn in whatever metaphorical place people call hell? No. Do I think that they have not had a rational conversation in quite a long time to come to this conclusion? Perhaps.
While this post was not supposed to be about the political landscape, it would seem that as we have no ability to approach our opposing-viewed persons as equals with minds and thoughts that are acceptable as we live in a "free" country, we cannot expect to elect people who can do what we can't.
And this, my dear friends, is what is wrong with this country. We have no ability to see the other side of the coin, to be able to say to our neighbors "I may not agree with you, but I'll fight to the death your right to say it" or to reach across and simply say, "hey, I know how you feel about XYZ, but how do you feel about knitting/crocheting/cosplaying/Doctor Who/Firefly/cars/hockey/lacross/the Olympics/the World Cup/etc.?" To be able to find common ground starts a dialog, one which hopefully is encouraged with the love that we are SUPPOSED to have for each other.
And for those who truly believe that there is no way to love their neighbors, no matter what crime they feel these neighbors have committed, I simply refer them to Matthew 5:44 "But I say unto you, Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you" or Matthew 19:19 "Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself" or Mathew 22:39 "Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself" or Mark 12:31 "Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself" or Luke 6: 27-29 "But I say unto you which hear, Love your enemies, do good to them which hate you, Bless them that curse you, and pray for them which despitefully use you. And unto him that smiteth thee on the [one] cheek offer also the other; and him that taketh away thy cloke forbid not [to take thy] coat also." or Luke 6:35 "love ye your enemies, and do good, and lend, hoping for nothing again; and your reward shall be great, and ye shall be the children of the Highest: for he is kind unto the unthankful and [to] the evil." or John 13:34 "A new commandment I give unto you, That ye love one another; as I have loved you, that ye also love one another."
I wonder if they'll still protest...
Tuesday, December 11, 2012
That awkward moment where
You realize that someone you were really close with in high school unfriended you on facebook at some point and you have no idea when because you aren't close now...and also the fact that everyone you knew through them has unfriended you... It shouldn't bother me, but I'm really beginning to think it does.....
Am I upset because I was her maid of honor and she was in my wedding? Because now all those photos are stupid looking? I suppose it follows in tradition, because my mom had the same thing happen, as did one of my closest friends. But no, I don't think that's it.
I think it has something to do with the fact that I feel lied to. And cheated. And angry. And like history repeats itself.
My best friend from middle through most of high school and I do not talk. We don't even attempt it. The last time we spoke was in 2004, and I'm plenty fine with that. We didn't have a huge fight or anything, but we were just better off not as friends. Personally, I think she was jealous of a lot of things in my life and chose to take it out on me. But that's just me.
In the interim, this other person entered in a much larger fashion than she had been previously. We became inseparable, especially the summer between high school and college. I went down with her to interview for her college job on two occasions, both for the interview and for the drug test. We hung out during first and second year of college on a regular basis and she asked me to be her maid of honor.
But when she got too homesick and decided to go home after 2nd year, we didn't speak as much. And we only spoke when I called her. I suppose I should have given up the MOH title, but I didn't really realize that anything was wrong. I threw her a shower (which most of the other bridesmaids were of no help during [there were two who were awesome]) and a bachelorette party. I gave a lovely speech with an amazing inside joke at the wedding, something that I knew we'd share forever.
She and her husband came to our engagement party at our house. But he looked uncomfortable. And unhappy. She did all of her bridesmaid duties, coming to the shower, coming to the bachelorette party, etc. But at our wedding, he wouldn't dance with her. When I inquired, she told me he only dances when he's drunk, which either meant that he was drunk at his own wedding or that she was lying to me.
In the over four years since I got married, I have not seen her once.
I have spoken to her on the phone, but only when I called. There were a few times where I messaged her on facebook, emailed her and called, but when nothing is given in return, it makes you want to stop trying. We stopped inviting them to events that we held because they never responded (which, lets be honest, is just rude).
I could be upset because I feel like I got dumped. When I was the one putting in the effort, I got tossed aside.
But the reality is that it does not take a lot to be friends with people on facebook. I have friends from high school on facebook who I NEVER talk to. Like ever. But it's nice to see what they've been up to, nice to see when things are really good for them, etc. The same goes for just about everyone that you don't talk to on a normal basis. And if say, during election season, you can't stand seeing someone's political posts, well then you can hide their posts from view.
But to completely unfriend someone takes effort and forethought. Her husband had unfriended me quite some time ago and I didn't put much thought into it. I was quite certain that he did not like my partner and never would. (I recall when he met my partner, he told me that "I could do better" and "we know who wears the pants in the relationship." What that truly means, I suppose I'll never know.)
The more thought I put into this, the more upset and hurt I am. Which is why I'm blogging about it. Which is why I'm blogging in general after not having done so since March of 2011. The more upset I get, the more angry and hurt I am and the more likely I am to withdraw from new friends, lest they hurt me in the future.
Which is not a way to live life.
So I'm putting my feelings here, out in the open, for all to see. In the hopes that by re-reading this in a year when I have to see this person again (one of our mutual friends is getting married and we'll both be at the shower, bachelorette party and wedding together), my anger will have subsided.
Do I care that we're no longer friends? Yes, but I got over that a year ago. I guess it's the fact that if there was something she wanted from me, she couldn't reach her arm across and ask for it. If she wanted friendship, she never thought to speak to me about it.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Letter To Congressman Royce
As I said, I'd post what I'm writing to the Congressman. You can read it below. I think it will be interesting to see how old the Congressman thinks I am. My writing style is very young (notice the circles over the i's), but what I talk about it older than I am.
I'll be honest, I went on a tangent, but I'm okay with that. :)
Friday, March 4, 2011
Media Bias
I have always thought of myself as being Liberal, but fair. I have always assumed that the media, while slightly biased, was not getting everything wrong.
I'm beginning to see how naive I was.
This was posted to Jezebel. Yes, the situation that the video shows is horrendous. It is appalling, and it goes against everything the group stands for. Their byline is "Not Racists - Not Violent - Just No Longer Silent." They were indeed not silent nor violent then, but they threw incredibly racist and demeaning epithets to those entering a peaceful building.
This video was obviously meant to showcase how evil the Tea Party is and how they need to, oh I don't know, how should I put this, meet those Marines that Villa Park Councilwoman Deborah Pauly speaks of?
While watching this video, my face turned ghost white, because Ed Royce is MY Congressman. I sat back, appalled that I was watching this. The man who represents MY area (and believe it or not, the man I voted for because I did not agree with the Democratic representative) was condoning such slander and such hate.
I almost threw up.
At that moment, this guy I know walked into where I was and asked what was wrong. I was able to explain the situation and we were able to have a meaningful, interesting conversation about the situation, once we had all the facts.
And the facts are these:
I'm beginning to see how naive I was.
This was posted to Jezebel. Yes, the situation that the video shows is horrendous. It is appalling, and it goes against everything the group stands for. Their byline is "Not Racists - Not Violent - Just No Longer Silent." They were indeed not silent nor violent then, but they threw incredibly racist and demeaning epithets to those entering a peaceful building.
This video was obviously meant to showcase how evil the Tea Party is and how they need to, oh I don't know, how should I put this, meet those Marines that Villa Park Councilwoman Deborah Pauly speaks of?
While watching this video, my face turned ghost white, because Ed Royce is MY Congressman. I sat back, appalled that I was watching this. The man who represents MY area (and believe it or not, the man I voted for because I did not agree with the Democratic representative) was condoning such slander and such hate.
I almost threw up.
At that moment, this guy I know walked into where I was and asked what was wrong. I was able to explain the situation and we were able to have a meaningful, interesting conversation about the situation, once we had all the facts.
And the facts are these:
- The Islamic Circle of North America had two speakers on February 13th, Imam Siraj Wahhaj and Br. Amir Abdel Malik.
- Ed Royce and Deborah Pauly and Gary Miller spoke about terrorism.
- Protesters descended on the event as people were walking into the center.
Ed Royce has issued this statement. Neither of the other two government representatives have.
CAIR Los Angeles issued the video to serve their purposes.
And the video was picked up.
All
Over
The
Country
What happens when small town news becomes national headlines? The facts get lost and the people get attacked. Yes, the protesters screamed hateful and vile things, but that does not mean that they are representative of the groups hosting the protest. As Royce mentions, he and his fellow speakers were at a park adjacent to the community center.
As you can tell from the video, the protesters are there when the attendees are entering and you can see how light it is outside. You can see more of that light when the Congressmen and the Councilwoman are speaking. You can also see that behind the speakers, there is a plethora of flags and the protesters seem to also have a plethora of flags. I can hardly imagine that there were that many flags brought to the event.
That being said, I could be totally wrong. I could be totally wrong in assuming that the three speakers had no knowledge of the protest until it hit the internet. I could be totally wrong in assuming that they were not supportive of the situation.
I hope I am not wrong.
We may not see eye-to-eye with everyone present, but I think that we understand that fringes on both sides of the aisle tend to muck up things for others. And to quote this guy I know:
And yes, the fact that a Rabbi has been implicated in this mess is beyond embarrassing.
I plan to write a hand written letter to Ed Royce asking for an explanation of the situation. I want to know if he knew about the protest, wanted to participate in it and couldn't or had no knowledge of the situation. From what I've read, there were hundreds of people at the protest, but the video showed there to only be around 50 who were yelling epithets.
So keep tuned here. I promise to update with my letter and with a response, if I get one, from Congressman Royce.
CAIR Los Angeles issued the video to serve their purposes.
And the video was picked up.
All
Over
The
Country
What happens when small town news becomes national headlines? The facts get lost and the people get attacked. Yes, the protesters screamed hateful and vile things, but that does not mean that they are representative of the groups hosting the protest. As Royce mentions, he and his fellow speakers were at a park adjacent to the community center.
As you can tell from the video, the protesters are there when the attendees are entering and you can see how light it is outside. You can see more of that light when the Congressmen and the Councilwoman are speaking. You can also see that behind the speakers, there is a plethora of flags and the protesters seem to also have a plethora of flags. I can hardly imagine that there were that many flags brought to the event.
That being said, I could be totally wrong. I could be totally wrong in assuming that the three speakers had no knowledge of the protest until it hit the internet. I could be totally wrong in assuming that they were not supportive of the situation.
I hope I am not wrong.
We may not see eye-to-eye with everyone present, but I think that we understand that fringes on both sides of the aisle tend to muck up things for others. And to quote this guy I know:
Granted, there are many hateful people out there, on both sides, but this may not be as clear cut as "peace-loving, women-helping, homeless-feeding Muslims attacked by racist, sexist, xenophobic, Islamophobic, Tea Party Christians just for being Muslim." Then again, this particular group might contain just some of those people.And the other thing that has not really been mentioned by anyone is the other groups who supposedly were a part of this whole thing. The focus has been solely on the hatred and the fact that it was the Tea Partiers who perpetrated it. The others involved were Rabbi David Eliezrie of Chabad — Yorba Linda, North Orange County Conservative Coalition, and ACT! for America. From everything I've read and posted here, it would seem like it was fringes of each of these groups, including the Tea Party/Glenn Beck's We Surround Them 912. And fringe members are incredibly hard to control, as I'm sure all of us are aware.
And yes, the fact that a Rabbi has been implicated in this mess is beyond embarrassing.
I plan to write a hand written letter to Ed Royce asking for an explanation of the situation. I want to know if he knew about the protest, wanted to participate in it and couldn't or had no knowledge of the situation. From what I've read, there were hundreds of people at the protest, but the video showed there to only be around 50 who were yelling epithets.
So keep tuned here. I promise to update with my letter and with a response, if I get one, from Congressman Royce.
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