I read a quote today that said, "You don't have to be pretty like her. You can be pretty like you." It was posted to a woman's instagram account, a woman I often consider flawless or beautiful in a way that I cannot aspire to. It really struck me as a profound thought, something I don't think I have ever heard articulated so simply before. Growing up in this society, particularly as a woman, it is easy to forget that there are over 7 billion definitions of beautiful, that our societal beauty ideal is only meant to perpetuate a white capitalist heterosexual patriarchy. I often wonder what we are trying to achieve from the squats, the pretty clothes, the makeup, the filters, the hours upon hours spent in front of the mirror or just avoiding the mirror at all costs. I wonder what is empty inside of me when I find myself sizing other women up, as though we are in some sort of competition, to be the prettiest, the coolest, the smartest, the most well-liked, etc. But then I read a quote like this, and I remember I am not alone, I am not sick or evil or demented, I am just a girl who grew up fluent in the language of inadequacy, just like all the other pretty little kids in the world.
So what made us inadequate in the first place? It had to have started with our vaginas. Right? Have you ever heard a woman talk about how ugly vaginas are or how she doesn't like to touch it or go near it? I used to think that about myself, like my vagina was some dark, dangerous cavern that I had no business wandering inside of, despite the fact that it was on my body, part of my biology, part of my me-ness. But vaginas don't make a woman, a woman. Some women have vaginas, some women don't. It is really much more than that. It is being taught from the time we are little, that we must compete with other women, that there is somehow not enough love, not enough happiness, not enough smartness/prettyness/successfulness and so on, to be shared, not owned, by all of us. So we are trained to put each other down, to analyze each other's behavior and critique it. If we are busy condemning each other, the patriarchal powers that be can sit back, relax, and watch us self-destruct.
I think of myself at 17, the skinniest I ever was...and the saddest. I weighed 90 some lbs, which I thought would make me feel like I had succeeded in some way. In reality, I felt empty, I felt weak, I felt like I couldn't handle all of the things that were going to be thrown at me in the coming years. And in that body, I couldn't have. My body now is twenty lbs happier. It smiles at me in the morning and flexes its muscles and hugs its curves. I was blessed to attend an all women's college for three years, where the word beautiful is thrown around like confetti, and damn, we really all do find each other achingly beautiful. I came to Chatham and I discovered that the number on the scale had nothing to do with my worth or my beauty, that the way I did my hair or my makeup did not influence in anyway, my capability. I have girlfriends that work out every day and girlfriends that would rather suffocate themselves in Cheetos than touch a treadmill. I have girlfriends that want to be doctors, girlfriends that want to be nurses, girlfriends that think its a great time to be a waitress for a while. I have girlfriends that love boys, girlfriends that love girls, and girlfriends that have more important shit to deal with than love right now. I have girlfriends with six packs, girlfriends with great booties, girlfriends with plenty of wine to share, and plenty of love to shed. And we are all really, really pretty.
And still... its easy to forget. I worry sometimes that a prettier, smarter woman will come along and snatch up everything I love, all of my dreams, all of my goals, because she is just better. I think women are taught to expect that we are lacking in some way, and thus, we will never be able to fulfill ourselves or anyone else. I don't know who this phantom woman is, but a lot of times, she just looks like a manifestation of my insecurities. I worry that I'll never be the woman I aspire to be, that I'll never make the cut, or check all the boxes I hope to check. But when I read, "You can be pretty like you," I remember the truth, my truth. It isn't that I am inadequate or stupid, the world is an ugly place filled with ugly, colonizing ideologies used to oppress and enslave women's bodies. We are forced to oblige it or combat it, and it often feels like a choice between hating yourself and hating everything else.
Sometimes I am really hard on myself and sometimes I am really hard on other women. Isn't it bizarre to realize that we are so often on the same page? So often, no matter how society has categorized us, we are left to feel like we failed in some way, that we are not good enough, and that we never could be. The beauty ideal is just a construct, re-appropriated and manipulated to perpetuate the subjugation of women and minorities, to keep the powerful powerful and everyone else at their feet. We can't trust the beauty ideal; we are all beautiful. Your beauty, your strength, your intelligence as a woman only adds to my beauty, my strength, and my intelligence. Our unity, our shared experiences, are what make us capable. When women free themselves from unjust definitions of beauty, they open themselves to existing outside of the barriers of societal beauty. They are free to be whatever they want to be, and they are empowered by the loving women who surround them. You are beautiful and so am I, and that is what makes us strong.
Being pretty like me looks like a dark, sarcastic sense of humor, a coke in one hand, a book in the other, and the freedom to say what I need to say. It looks like messy hair and long eyelashes and boobs that hate being contained. It looks like an opinion and a loud voice and also the ability to listen and to be self-aware, despite difference of opinion. It looks like being right and being wrong and being too damn competitive for my own good. A lot of the time it looks like workout clothes and sweat and beat up tennis shoes, and sometimes it looks like my boyfriend's face, when he sees me for the first time that day. What does it mean to be pretty like you?
<3 p="">
Wednesday, May 13, 2015
Friday, February 27, 2015
Hiatuses and Hyacinths
So I haven't written a blog in a while. Why that is, I have trouble articulating, which for a writer, is a rather debilitating problem. It isn't that I haven't been writing. I have been quite a lot. But I haven't been writing blogs or what I consider little diary entries that I hope you find traction and peace inside of. The truth is, and this is such an awful excuse, I've been caught up, in a crazy, whirlwind, nonstop, graduating a semester early kinda way. It is no excuse to not write, I should have written, but I haven't. And now that you're done listening to me ramble on about my writing guilt, I'd like to talk about some things.
I'm taking a literary theory class this semester, which for anyone who hasn't taken one, let me just say, is a daily dose of mindfucking. Which is good every now and then; snowglobes need shaking. Twice a week, however, is getting to be a bit much. Literary theory is rooted in the idea that everything is a construct but primarily, the construct of identity. In every sense of the world. So what I'm getting at is, on Tuesdays and Thursdays, we talk with Dr. Wardi about how everything we know to be "true" is actually just a convenient way of maintaining hierarchical power structures. This has got me thinking about a lot of things, everything to be precise. We choose to believe certain things because it makes life easier. We choose to believe in certain ideas because we trust that maybe, in its heart of hearts, the world isn't so bad.
And you know, I don't think it is the world at all. All this time, we've been cursing the Earth as if its sacred crust has something to do with our obscene behavior. As if, the Earth asked to be raped, pillaged, and colonized by a brief history of violent humans. But you know, I don't think its that human beings are inherently evil, either. What I think it is, is that we are addicted convenience. It is convenient, for now, for things to remain a certain way. But what we fail to recognize, is that our convenience comes at the expense of someone else's suffering, someone else's poverty, someone else's oppression as well as the suffering, poverty, and oppression of the earth. Do you see why I haven't been writing? Do you see how heavy this shit is?
Two years ago at this time, I thought a lot about women and feminism and what it meant to be equal. Nowadays, I realize it is a lot bigger than votes and dollars and cents and policies and rape culture. It stems from the mindset that the Earth is for our consumption exclusively, when in fact, we are just a species, a blip on the radar of the Earth's lifetime. I know this is some real high brow hippie bullshit, I know, I know, I know. But bare with me, please. I think it all intersects, the bad things, racism, classism, sexism, the destruction of the earth and I know, I'm not the first person to think this. But education is meaningful, it is the best tool we have. It means thinking, reflecting, learning, and unlearning the supposed truths of the world. It starts with the question, "What is true?" and works backwards. So I implore you, as I have been constantly been imploring myself, to think about truth, capitalized or not, and what it means to you. The injustices of the world must have originally stemmed from the idea that my truth is greater than yours, that my worth is more valuable than yours, that my identity is somehow more special than yours. And now, truth is just a word we apply to things that we want to last, to grow roots.
So, as I struggle to make sense of myself and my life in this made up world of "ours", these are my growing and ungrowing truths: I don't want to judge you anymore than I want you to judge me, I hope that we can find common ground, and if we can't, I still want you to flourish and prosper in this brief and beautiful life. I love, I am loved, and I think love is the best answer we have. I also think love could destroy the world, it is atomic and should be handled carefully. I don't think this world belongs more to humans than any other species, and its fucked up that we act that way. I'm not tired of thinking so much, I am just scared that people who have power don't think enough, don't see enough, don't stop to look around enough. Words build the world we understand, thus they determine whether we make it better or make it worse. That being said, I finally trust that what I want to do with my life is important, at least for other people who are reading and writing and learning and listening to the whispers between door slams.
So I am now 21, I have been on a blog writing hiatus, and these crazy thoughts are why...please share your truths with me :)
Wednesday, October 29, 2014
Finding
Lately, I always have the sneaking suspicion that I'm forgetting something, like I left my ID at the bus stop or my contact case on a sidewalk somewhere or my whole identity in the trashcan where I threw my morning coffee away. It's certainly a symptom of rushing, of running from one place to the next, of living out of a backpack, of forgoing a couple hours of sleep and hoping for the best. It's also, as I've found, just part of being 20 and having no idea what comes next. I learned today that the adolescent brain doesn't finish developing until 25, so maybe I'm just forgetting useless shit I've picked up over the last twenty years. They say, "Your twenties are for finding yourself" and "No one else knows what they're doing either." But no one ever tells you how scary, how unsettling the finding can be.
I've realized that the thing I've lost, the forgotten item in my bag, is my plan. Y'know, like what I'm going to do with the next X number of years (just throw a number out there--I will have no idea no matter what you say). I have no plan that goes further than one semester tops. And this is why I'm constantly digging through my purse, my backpack, my bra, etc. yelling, "WHERE THE FUCK DID YOU GO?" Because I want to know, plan, where the fuck did you go? So now, after the approximately eighty third mental breakdown I've had over the rest of my life, I have a list that I consult. This is called the mental breakdown list, the finding yourself list, the default bad-day list, the I have no idea what you're supposed to do either list. It's called the being 20 list and I started it shortly after I wrote this very depressing haiku (I know it's not a real haiku, it's just a tiny poem, leave me alone):
Being 20
It is the first realization that
No, maybe everything won’t be okay,
The first chill down your spine from
Something that isn’t fingertips.
So now that you have a rough sketch of how sad I get when I'm in the future dark and you haven't run away from this, I'm assuming that you too are in the future dark or that you are a sadist. Either way, here is my list; this is how I fill the void that my missing plan has left.
A List for Mental Breakdowns/Bad Days/20 Somethings/Lost Plans
1. Breathe
2. "don't seek, don't search, don't ask, don't knock, don't demand--relax. if you relax, it comes. if you relax, it is there. if you relax, you start vibrating with it." -0sho
3. What can you do today that helps you feel better?
-Sometimes the answer to this is just homework/some of my reading, but doing my homework and my reading always makes me feel better, stronger, and smarter.
-Sometimes the answer to this is just researching career/grad school/fellowship options that I would like to do one day.
-Sometimes the answer to this is working out.
-Sometimes the answer to this is writing.
-Sometimes I can't find the answer, I can't figure out what will make me feel better about the future, so I try to remember that the present is what matters, because it is all I have right now.
4. Call your mom.
-She probably knows you better than you know yourself, and she was once a twenty something with no idea what she would do next with her life, too.
5. Recognize happy moments
-I often find myself smiling for no good reason, because I'm just happy. This is special and important because it is a significant reminder that having a plan is not the key to happiness. I write these moments down or write something in these moments or write to someone in these moments, it immortalizes the happy. There are too many goddamn epic tragedies, there should be more immortalized happy moments.
6. Do high kicks for yourself.
-Guess what? Everyone else is just as wrapped up in their own shit as you are. Sometimes the down ass bitch you're looking for is you. So celebrate your wins, write yourself a love note, and for god's sake, stop beating yourself up.
7. Do high kicks for your ride or dies.
-Ride or die: (as told by Urban Dictionary) the people in your life who are there through thick n thin. they'll do what it do to make it through with you. the ones that'll stick it through till the end
-so when you read that, you definitely thought of some people, right?
-When I think of ride or dies, I think of my boyfriend, my best friends, I think of my family, in every sense of the word. It doesn't matter who your ride or dies are or how long they've been around, what matters is, they love you like no other. They've seen you at your lowest, your highest, and every stage in between, and they think you're awesome.
-So do high kicks for them! Celebrate their victories, pick them up when they're down, make sacrifices for them, hold their hand, wipe their tears, be a ride or die to your ride or dies. Remember that they are struggling in one way or another too. Every day, spend time thinking of how you could brighten their day.
8. Do stupid things.
-Be careful, obviously because "the decisions you make now affect the rest of your life," I didn't say that, some rational fun sucker did but still, it can be kind of true.
-But make mistakes, screw up, do the thing that you're scared to, have one night stands, skip a class to dance around in your underwear and drink wine, and don't regret it.
-I have packed an impressive amount of regrettable things into twenty years, but guess what? I love them, they defined me way more than the A+'s did. They gave me life experience, scars, and knowledge. I don't want to just be someone who did awesome in all her classes and got awesome scholarships and opportunities, because they are a dime a dozen now a days. I want to be her with a twist.
9. Leave surprises for yourself.
-Forgotten chocolate in your backpack or a post it note that says "you are a magic fairy princess" (or whatever makes your heart sing) can change the course of a lifetime (I believe this).
10. Change your standards for good days.
-When I was 17, I thought that a 'good day' was a day where everything went perfectly and I bounced my rosy cheeks into bed with a smile.
-Now, I usually base the phrase 'good day' off of whether or not I have had enough coffee :)
11. Don't feel guilty for drowning in happy
-Or as Charles Bukowski said, "Find what you love and let it kill you. "
*My boyfriend, olives, giggling with my mooncats, my mini magic family, and writing. Oh and cats.*
-The things that make your heart sing needn't make you feel guilty, they are your special things, you deserve the happiness they give you :)
12. Let go
-Regardless of what you believe in, I think we've all figured out that we don't control the universe.
-It is random and catastrophic and purposeful and exquisite depending on the angle.
-Embrace the unpredictability. Embrace the chaos. Make it into a pair of earrings and wear it when you're feeling out of control.
-So...let go of the plan, the path, the bulleted list you wish would make itself known. Maybe it will come and maybe it won't. Maybe it will be a lot of trying and failing until something works. Maybe on round 1, you'll get it right. Maybe you never will get it right, but right is just a social construct so fuck it anyway.
-Do what you can, with what you have, where you are.
-Make yourself proud; your ten year old self, your sixteen year old self, your now self, and your future self. Maybe not all at the same time. Also, remember when you were ten, you were a member of DARE, so don't take that super seriously.
-And remember, always remember, that you are never alone and you never have been. No matter how heavily the walls are caving in on you from all sides, no matter how convinced you are that you'll never figure it out, remember, we are here too, and we get it. We totally fucking get it.
Tuesday, August 5, 2014
Taking Up Space.
"Don't worry about your body.
It isn't as small as it once was,
But honestly, the world
needs more of you.
You look in the mirror
like you've done something wrong,
But you look perfect.
Anyone who says otherwise
is telling a lie
to make you feel weak.
And you know better.
You've survived every single day,
for as long as
you've been alive.
You could spit fire
if you wanted to."
-Clementine von Radics
I read this poem the other day. Not long after my boyfriend told me about a TED talk he watched about body language, in which the woman discussed how women are constantly trying to make themselves feel smaller. Then I thought of this slam poem by Lily Meyers called Shrinking Women, and there was also the thing Julie said about how men never feel compelled to apologize for the space their bodies take up. And the more things that popped into my mind, the more that followed, like an avalanche of moments that have created mindsets that can destroy us:
'As a woman, you should take up as little space as possible.'
'You are an inconvenience.'
'You are fat.'
'You should apologize for the extra space, the extra time, the extra energy you consume.'
'You are a guest in this world, be polite.'
'Be a lady.'
and on...and on...and on...
As a woman, you are born and you are given a name and you are given a bed and an existence. You have space that belongs to you, you are a person. And then you start to go out into the world and experience things and listen to the words people tell you and start to form opinions and observations and beliefs. And somewhere along the way there is a moment when you are a little girl playing in the dirt with your legs splayed and someone big tells you, "That isn't very ladylike," or "You shouldn't sit that way." Of course, because little girl underwear or--god forbid--vaginas, are the scariest things that have ever existed. And later you are sitting somewhere with your legs crossed--because that's how women should sit--studying and eating your favorite snack, and someone says, "Do you really think you should be eating that?" Because you shouldn't want to put things you like to eat in your mouth, you should just want to be as thin as possible. And there are all of the moments in between, where people tell you you hit, "Like a girl" or that you stuff your bra or that you are flat chested or your stomach sticks out or your thighs are too big or your ass is too big or you will never be a skinny girl, you just aren't made that way or that you can't be smart and pretty or that you should do X, Y, & Z to make a boy like you and that you won't be good at math or science because you have a vagina, and again, those are always messing shit up. And you start to get it, you start to think the way I am is wrong, I need to be skinnier, I need to take up less space, my everything is too big. I mean look at the women we see in magazines and billboards and advertisements for our entire lives; it is hard to see a woman in these mediums and not look inward. But these are pictures, not people.
And it doesn't matter if a boy ever poked your stomach and called you the pillsbury dough girl or if your mom was obsessed with her weight, because somewhere along the way, you probably learned to pray for smallness. And no, being thin is not a bad thing--it is just a thing, being small, however, is a bad thing. I don't mean small bodies, though, I mean small spaces, small minds, small goals, small journeys, small dreams, small areas to grow inside of. When we are constantly worried about shrinking our bodies, shaping them certain ways, we don't realize the toll that it can take on our minds. You train yourself to eat less, weigh less, and eventually you let yourself become less. We push ourselves into corners because we think that makes it easier on others, more convenient, but in reality, we would just be letting ourselves vanish. To let yourself vanish is an incredible disservice to the world. Your life can be epic, it can be massive, and huge, and no, those are not bad words, they are good words. They convey mass and size and complexity and depth; they define lives that inspire us to reach beyond what we can fathom.
You were born and you were given a name and you were given a bed and an existence. You have a space that belongs to you, you are a person, so be a person, a whole, crazy, rollercoaster, lifetime, huge person. Be selfish, sometimes. Be imperfect. Eat too much, drink too much, and stop apologizing for it because YOU ARE A PERSON. Say things because you thought of them and that makes it unique. Stop being so hard on yourself, stop trying to make your body look like someone else's because it is your body and no one else can love it and take care of it the way you do. The way you treat your body will determine how everyone else in the room treats it, so treat it well, respect it, own it, validate it. Love your thighs and your dimples and the way your body feels when you're dancing and when you're giving a presentation and reading a poem. Love your silly days and your hungry days and your scared days and your angry days, and don't think that they make you weak; they make you real. Love your hair with roots and your legs with stubble and your face without make up and your hands covered in dirt or paint or blisters or calluses. Be proud of what you've accomplished and then push for more, because you can get more, if you want it. You can be soft but you can also be tough as nails, don't ever forget that. Don't say sorry for things you don't owe someone an apology for, like walking into a room or asking a question or interjecting in a conversation or when someone bumps into you or not having room in your schedule for everyone else's shit. Don't say sorry for existing. Take up space, the space you want, claim spaces, find bigger spaces, create new spaces, own your space and don't give it up for anything, it belongs to you and you are the only person who can fight for it.
"You know what's really, powerfully sexy? A sense of humor. A taste for adventure. A healthy glow. Hips to grab on to. Openness. Confidence. Humility. Appetite. Intuition. Smart-ass comebacks. Presence. A quick wit. Dirty jokes told by an innocent-looking lady. A woman who realizes how beautiful she is." -Courtney E. Martin
Saturday, July 26, 2014
For my meemsy.
My darling angel mother Marybell (as many mistakenly call her) invited me to answer some questions as part of a Blog Tour she is doing. I am not going to pretend to know or understand what is happening or what this entails because I really don't. I am going to answer these four difficult (SO DIFFICULT) questions because I love my mom and she asked me to and sometimes I like to give people what they ask for. In reality, I am just inviting you into the barrage of bullshit that is my life, so have a great peek behind the curtain, it is rare and alarming and will give you something to gossip to your palz about or maybe--just maybe--what's behind my curtain will make you feel better about what's behind yours.
1. What am I working on?
I am working on this lengthy, confusing pile of insanity that I sometimes, when feeling confident, refer to as a novel. I don't like to announce that in public because than people feel welcome to say asinine things like, "So hows your novel coming?" which, on the wrong day, at the wrong time, could send me into orbit. Its some angsty, twenty something, science fiction. I don't know what I am going to do with it, I just know I like writing it. I also have two running poetry documents that I have been adding to a lot lately, one theme is 'how I feel today' and the other is looooooooove--SURPRISE. So I suppose until I have a million papers to write come the fall, that is what I'm working on. :)
2. How does my work differ from others of it's genre?
It is mine, so it sounds like me and not someone else. Also, I probably say fuck more.
3. Why do I write/create what I do?
I don't talk excessively, I would say I spend more time listening and observing, and that is because I write. I write because that's how I understand the world, as my mother said, that's how I process things. I am always writing, especially in my head. If you read my notepad on my phone you would feel like you were reading a diary or some weird quote book. Some people say that writer's watch and remember everything rather than experience everything, but I would say that writing helps to make things real for me. Sometimes I worry that if I don't write something down it will disappear and become more of a dream than a moment. I write what I write, and I always say this, because it is what I am good at.
4. How does your writing/creating process work?
I wouldn't call it a process really, more like shit hitting the fan. Sometimes when I read something that hits me in the right place I get really inspired and could write nonstop for hours but a lot of days it feels like pulling my teeth out with pliers. In that, I just mean that writing can be really agonizing sometimes, especially when you don't know where to go next. I guess I don't really think of writing in a scientific way, there is no method or organization or systematic process to my writing, it is my escape from all of those things. I write because something inside me always wants to, I never hate it. I do sometimes wish that I could've been really good at something that makes for an easier career, but that would probably bore me anyway. For me, writing is just something that is necessary and relaxing, like running or sleeping or alone time. When it comes, it is always exactly what it needs to be that day.
If you couldn't tell, I am not the exceedingly kind, welcoming butterfly that my mother is. I love you, Mary Swan-Bell. Thank you for your invite :)
1. What am I working on?
I am working on this lengthy, confusing pile of insanity that I sometimes, when feeling confident, refer to as a novel. I don't like to announce that in public because than people feel welcome to say asinine things like, "So hows your novel coming?" which, on the wrong day, at the wrong time, could send me into orbit. Its some angsty, twenty something, science fiction. I don't know what I am going to do with it, I just know I like writing it. I also have two running poetry documents that I have been adding to a lot lately, one theme is 'how I feel today' and the other is looooooooove--SURPRISE. So I suppose until I have a million papers to write come the fall, that is what I'm working on. :)
2. How does my work differ from others of it's genre?
It is mine, so it sounds like me and not someone else. Also, I probably say fuck more.
3. Why do I write/create what I do?
I don't talk excessively, I would say I spend more time listening and observing, and that is because I write. I write because that's how I understand the world, as my mother said, that's how I process things. I am always writing, especially in my head. If you read my notepad on my phone you would feel like you were reading a diary or some weird quote book. Some people say that writer's watch and remember everything rather than experience everything, but I would say that writing helps to make things real for me. Sometimes I worry that if I don't write something down it will disappear and become more of a dream than a moment. I write what I write, and I always say this, because it is what I am good at.
4. How does your writing/creating process work?
I wouldn't call it a process really, more like shit hitting the fan. Sometimes when I read something that hits me in the right place I get really inspired and could write nonstop for hours but a lot of days it feels like pulling my teeth out with pliers. In that, I just mean that writing can be really agonizing sometimes, especially when you don't know where to go next. I guess I don't really think of writing in a scientific way, there is no method or organization or systematic process to my writing, it is my escape from all of those things. I write because something inside me always wants to, I never hate it. I do sometimes wish that I could've been really good at something that makes for an easier career, but that would probably bore me anyway. For me, writing is just something that is necessary and relaxing, like running or sleeping or alone time. When it comes, it is always exactly what it needs to be that day.
If you couldn't tell, I am not the exceedingly kind, welcoming butterfly that my mother is. I love you, Mary Swan-Bell. Thank you for your invite :)
Wednesday, June 25, 2014
There is stuff all over the floor and I don't know where to put it
Hi.
July is five days away and I haven't written a blog post since April. You see, my plan was to travel to Taiwan and Brazil, mold myself into the ideal version of the woman I've been steadily on my way to becoming, and then come home and write this earth shattering blog that proves just how different I am.
It's not that I am not different, I certainly am, it's just that I'm different in ways I didn't plan for. You see, it used to seem all about leaving a mark on the world that couldn't be erased, to do something so important that for decades after, little girls would be motivated to follow in my footsteps. I used to think I was unique and special and that I had something magic inside of me that was going to make things better, globally.
In the past two months, I've learned that globally is a really, really big word because it is a really, really big world that can feel very teeny or overwhelmingly huge depending on the angle. There is a song by the Old 97's, that says, "Some day somebodys gonna ask you a question that you should say yes to, once in your life." I always dreamed of my question and thought it would be different than all the other questions, like some real profound shit. But I've realized that life isn't one huge question like some people would like you to believe, it is a million different questions and some of them feel huge and some sound like, How sweet do you want your tea? But they all mean something. Most questions relate to our survival in some way or another, and by survival I mean the way we manage to continue to exist even when we are assholes and exist in the best way possible for ourselves.
What I'm getting at is this: maybe there isn't going to be one remarkable question for me, one job opportunity, one career, one degree, one book, one journey, one person, one experience that puts it all into place, that makes the stars align, and my jaw drop, and all of my wildest, fairy, mermaid dreams come true. One by one they will chip away at the girl I was always told I needed to be in order to become a better person. When I was gone, there were so many times I wanted to say no, to stay inside of my comfort zone, to snuggle up in a hotel bed and sleep until I got home. But something inside kept making me say yes, I guess the fear of the regret that would ensue if I passed up an opportunity I may never get again. And so I did all sorts of absurd shit that I will never forget and now I can use a machete and kind of drive a speedboat and make a caipirinha and build a palm leaf roof and ask people invasive questions and be wildly illiterate and eat little baby squid mouths (RIP) and so much more. I left a huge piece of my heart in Taiwan and I guess a little in Brazil. I guess, after all of it, the most special thing I've learned is that every life has an impact and a meaning; that the people who don't go down in history for being saviors sometimes lead far kinder lives, it is more special to make people feel safe and loved than to show the world what you're capable of. I don't care about being remembered or being profound like I used to, I don't have enough time to worry about getting my name etched in a plaque. I care about making people feel better, brighter, lighter, more capable, because there really should be more of that feeling to go around.
I learned just how important companionship can be, whether it's the group of students who were willing to sacrifice their time to translate for us, the remarkable women I spent my time abroad with, the amazing entrepreneurs who shared their time, stories, love, and talents with us; the people who loved me while I was away from my loved ones.
On a Sunday afternoon, we pulled up to a pepper stand on the side of a mountain in Hualien, Taiwan owned by an older couple. She was canning while he was cutting and seasoning; we had a huge language barrier between us, but she happily fed us the best hot peppers I've ever eaten. As we ate enthusiastically, sloppily with chopsticks, she brought out more and more delicacies, thoroughly enjoying our pleasure. We couldn't buy anything from her because we wouldn't have been able to get the jars through customs, but nothing about her actions made it seem like she ever expected us to buy it, she was just sharing her wonderful food with some wandering foreigners.
And so, it has become less about the New York Times Bestseller's List and more about poems and stories that make people feel less alone in their feelings, less about doing the "right" thing and more about doing the thing that makes us feel good, less about a flawless resume and more about learning something from everyone I meet, less about tomorrow and the next day and more about the next hour.
And now, I'm home, and there is stuff all over the floor and I don't know where to put it.
July is five days away and I haven't written a blog post since April. You see, my plan was to travel to Taiwan and Brazil, mold myself into the ideal version of the woman I've been steadily on my way to becoming, and then come home and write this earth shattering blog that proves just how different I am.
It's not that I am not different, I certainly am, it's just that I'm different in ways I didn't plan for. You see, it used to seem all about leaving a mark on the world that couldn't be erased, to do something so important that for decades after, little girls would be motivated to follow in my footsteps. I used to think I was unique and special and that I had something magic inside of me that was going to make things better, globally.
In the past two months, I've learned that globally is a really, really big word because it is a really, really big world that can feel very teeny or overwhelmingly huge depending on the angle. There is a song by the Old 97's, that says, "Some day somebodys gonna ask you a question that you should say yes to, once in your life." I always dreamed of my question and thought it would be different than all the other questions, like some real profound shit. But I've realized that life isn't one huge question like some people would like you to believe, it is a million different questions and some of them feel huge and some sound like, How sweet do you want your tea? But they all mean something. Most questions relate to our survival in some way or another, and by survival I mean the way we manage to continue to exist even when we are assholes and exist in the best way possible for ourselves.
What I'm getting at is this: maybe there isn't going to be one remarkable question for me, one job opportunity, one career, one degree, one book, one journey, one person, one experience that puts it all into place, that makes the stars align, and my jaw drop, and all of my wildest, fairy, mermaid dreams come true. One by one they will chip away at the girl I was always told I needed to be in order to become a better person. When I was gone, there were so many times I wanted to say no, to stay inside of my comfort zone, to snuggle up in a hotel bed and sleep until I got home. But something inside kept making me say yes, I guess the fear of the regret that would ensue if I passed up an opportunity I may never get again. And so I did all sorts of absurd shit that I will never forget and now I can use a machete and kind of drive a speedboat and make a caipirinha and build a palm leaf roof and ask people invasive questions and be wildly illiterate and eat little baby squid mouths (RIP) and so much more. I left a huge piece of my heart in Taiwan and I guess a little in Brazil. I guess, after all of it, the most special thing I've learned is that every life has an impact and a meaning; that the people who don't go down in history for being saviors sometimes lead far kinder lives, it is more special to make people feel safe and loved than to show the world what you're capable of. I don't care about being remembered or being profound like I used to, I don't have enough time to worry about getting my name etched in a plaque. I care about making people feel better, brighter, lighter, more capable, because there really should be more of that feeling to go around.
I learned just how important companionship can be, whether it's the group of students who were willing to sacrifice their time to translate for us, the remarkable women I spent my time abroad with, the amazing entrepreneurs who shared their time, stories, love, and talents with us; the people who loved me while I was away from my loved ones.
On a Sunday afternoon, we pulled up to a pepper stand on the side of a mountain in Hualien, Taiwan owned by an older couple. She was canning while he was cutting and seasoning; we had a huge language barrier between us, but she happily fed us the best hot peppers I've ever eaten. As we ate enthusiastically, sloppily with chopsticks, she brought out more and more delicacies, thoroughly enjoying our pleasure. We couldn't buy anything from her because we wouldn't have been able to get the jars through customs, but nothing about her actions made it seem like she ever expected us to buy it, she was just sharing her wonderful food with some wandering foreigners.
And so, it has become less about the New York Times Bestseller's List and more about poems and stories that make people feel less alone in their feelings, less about doing the "right" thing and more about doing the thing that makes us feel good, less about a flawless resume and more about learning something from everyone I meet, less about tomorrow and the next day and more about the next hour.
And now, I'm home, and there is stuff all over the floor and I don't know where to put it.
Monday, April 7, 2014
Words on Bathroom Stalls
I don't have time to write this blog; I have two huge papers to write and finals in two weeks and a lot. of. shit. to. do. But I have to write it, I have to write it right now, in the middle of Women in Science Fiction because I am so pissed off. At Everyone. You are all really pissing me off. Those of you who read that sentence and thought, "OK, Bitch." You just keep your ass and eyes firmly planted where they are because we need to talk. I keep seeing these depressing posts floating around the internet, like the Depressing Rules of Modern Dating or some shit and everybody is getting all bent out of shape about them.
Number One: Since when did we decide internet blogs are the end all be all of fucking knowledge (everything you read in this blog is now discredited and I don't care because its one person's fucking OPINION)? Somehow there is this weird phenomenon that when something gets written down it is then set in stone. Like it was never as hurtful in high school to be called a fucking slut to your face than it was to read it on a bathroom stall. That shit is more permanent, but no more true. That being said, reading a blog that says all of these really negative things about dating, doesn't make all of those really negative things about dating true.
Number Two: All of these theories, all of these negative scenarios and thoughts, happen. They do, I'm not going to lie and say that they don't because they do, more often than I'd like. But there is something incredibly problematic about writing them down and calling them rules and saying that they are the truths of modern dating. These "rules" just perpetuate all of the things people don't like about modern dating. When you give someone a list of rules, they feel this inner pull to both tell you to fuck off and to follow the rules. I, clearly, am more inclined to tell you to fuck off. If you see a list of rules that make you think, "Wow, this is all pretty screwed up, I wish things weren't this way," don't follow those rules. There are lots of things wrong with our government's set of rules that people have no problem questioning all the time, so if you are so vehemently disgusted by these modern rules of dating, why not oppose those too?
All of that venting aside, I am not going to blog a list of rules or "facts" about the state of modern dating. Yes, it is a shit show, but hey, we are all in this shit show together, unless you don't date, then wipe your brow casually (you dodged a bullet) and back away slowly. I am simply going to list my thoughts about dating. I don't think I know anything special about dating; if you know my dating history, you know it is relatively interesting. If you know who my parents are, you know I know a lot about what enduring relationships look like. And if you about my relationship, you know that I am very blessed. This is simply commentary and maybe it will make someone out there feel better knowing that the entire dating community has not resolved itself to accepting the "rules."
1. Talk. Talk a lot. To the person you are dating/thinking about dating/going on dates with/making out with in a semi-serious way and not about it with other people. Sure, you can talk to your friends about your relationship, but when you have a problem or an issue or a question, that's something you should talk to the person who is experiencing this relationship with you about. So much of dating nowadays is shrouded in mystery, when really it could be simple. Don't speculate with your friends about what some action/phrase/text/look could mean, simply say, "Hey you did this thing and it made me feel this way," and then see how your person reacts. That removes 90% of the drama that comes with relationships now a days. Just sit down and have a good old fashioned hash-out of all the shit that comes and goes when you invest emotions and trust in another person. Talk about your intentions and talk about their intentions, clearly outlining what your intentions are (i.e. whether you want to date or only hook up) could save you from forming the wrong kind of expectations. Hook up culture is rampant, and sometimes problematic, but I think if you clearly outline with someone that all you want out of a relationship is sex, then you are preventing a world of disappointment.
2. Don't put people into boxes. If one guy does one thing, that doesn't mean all guys are going to do the same thing to you. His actions certainly do not speak for all males. If one woman hurts you, it certainly doesn't mean all women are out to rip out your heart. Most importantly, think of yourself. Have you ever hurt someone? Chances are you have, and chances are, you don't think of yourself as a horrible monster (if you do, stop that). People hurt other people, it's a fact, it's an unavoidable truth of life, no matter how good or honest our intentions, feelings and emotions happen and we can't control them. The love(s) of your life will hurt you and you will hurt them. Relationships endure hurt, they have to, or else no one would ever be in a relationship, we'd all be breaking up with each other every day. Do not make your present person pay for the mistakes of your past persons, that is not their burden.
3. Love doesn't have anything to do with power, power has everything to do with control and games. Thus, if your relationship is a fucking video game, then yeah, you might win. But don't you want to care about someone and feel them caring about you? Isn't that the point of interacting with other human beings? So if you text someone first, that means you aren't in control, that they have power over you? Let's skew that perspective. You text someone first, cus you want to hang out, you want to see how their day is going, there is something you'd love to discuss with them, you miss them, you love them, to see their name across your phone would make your day. I can only speak for myself, but I know I have been miserable wanting to hear from someone and felt like I couldn't text them first because then I would be relinquishing power. But I have learned that texting/calling/reaching out to someone first is actually incredibly brave, it means putting yourself out there and possibly never hearing back. Plus, when you reach out to someone else, you make peace with the part of yourself that is so afraid of rejection. Rejection doesn't kill you, it actually makes you stronger.
4. The reason labels are scary goes back to the power thing. Attaching a label to your relationship is often equated with relinquishing some power. But what is really being relinquished? Your ability to sleep with whomever you want, whenever you want? Okay, if you want the freedom to sleep with anyone you want, then you probably wouldn't want to attach yourself to one person anyway, and if the person you attached yourself to only wants you to sleep with them, then they should probably be with someone who only wants to sleep with them. I've never been polyamorous, but there are people who are, who love it, so if you want to do that and still be in a relationship, I'm sure there is someone out there who is willing to be your partner in that. If you want to be in a monogamous relationship and your partner doesn't, the two of you have a huge gap in relationship preferences. And that's okay, that doesn't make them a bad person and it doesn't make you needy, it just means you want different things. You will meet a person, maybe multiple people, who are on the same page with you, not about everything but about your dealbreakers.
5. You shouldn't change. As people we grow up and we experience things and we change without even thinking about it. But, you should never feel that you have to stifle yourself, shut a part of yourself off in order to make someone else happy. You shouldn't have to feel that you need to look a certain way/act a certain way/talk a certain way to make someone else love you. Because then, isn't it just a kind of lying? You should talk how you feel good talking. You should dress how you feel good dressing. You should eat how you feel good eating. You should do things that make YOU proud of YOU. Do not make yourself into someone else to please a person you love, if they want you to be someone else, they are not in love with YOU and you will only end up resenting them for all of the changes you have made. Love does mean sacrifice and it does mean compromise, but it should never mean sacrificing or compromising your identity. A person who loves you the way you deserve to be loved will fall in love with all of your parts, the scary ones, the dirty ones, the ones you keep under lock and key, they will love even the parts of you that make them crazy, because they are yours.
6. I am a hopeless romantic. I always have been and I probably always will be. When I read the truths of modern dating, it makes me sad because I know that these things are common and that they do happen all the time. I don't have rose-colored glasses on and I don't think our culture perpetuates very many good ideas of love. I know that people tell little girls that they need to keep their legs closed if they want someone to love them, I know that people tell little boys that powerful men have lots of sex with lots of women. I know that girls often grow up watching romantic comedies where women are constantly analyzing the actions of men. I know that boys often grow up watching action movies where men are carrying out actions while women are applauding these actions/being sexy. I know that so much of our society is problematic and perpetuates that not giving a fuck is the coolest.
But...
I don't think that it means we can't have authentic, special encounters with eachother.
There will be people who you only ever hook up with once, or twice, or three times. There will be people who you have really long, awesome phone conversations with that sadly never turn into anything more. There will be people who treat you like shit who you love the shit out of anyway. There will be people who lie to your face. There will be people who are madly in love with you whose hearts you absolutely destroy. There will be people who you love so much who love you so much back, but that time, distance, or some other painful circumstances keep you from being with. There will be people who only teach you how you don't want to be treated. There will be people who teach you what you like. There will be people who teach you how to love. There will be people who only care about power and control. There will be people who just want to get down with your rocking bod. There will be people who make you believe that there is something incredibly special inside of you because of the way they look at you. There will be people who destroy you, people who rebuild you, people who make you a better person, and people who make you question everything you've ever learned.
And to them...you could be all of these things, none of these things, and more.
Don't let words written on bathroom stalls define the way you experience love.
Number One: Since when did we decide internet blogs are the end all be all of fucking knowledge (everything you read in this blog is now discredited and I don't care because its one person's fucking OPINION)? Somehow there is this weird phenomenon that when something gets written down it is then set in stone. Like it was never as hurtful in high school to be called a fucking slut to your face than it was to read it on a bathroom stall. That shit is more permanent, but no more true. That being said, reading a blog that says all of these really negative things about dating, doesn't make all of those really negative things about dating true.
Number Two: All of these theories, all of these negative scenarios and thoughts, happen. They do, I'm not going to lie and say that they don't because they do, more often than I'd like. But there is something incredibly problematic about writing them down and calling them rules and saying that they are the truths of modern dating. These "rules" just perpetuate all of the things people don't like about modern dating. When you give someone a list of rules, they feel this inner pull to both tell you to fuck off and to follow the rules. I, clearly, am more inclined to tell you to fuck off. If you see a list of rules that make you think, "Wow, this is all pretty screwed up, I wish things weren't this way," don't follow those rules. There are lots of things wrong with our government's set of rules that people have no problem questioning all the time, so if you are so vehemently disgusted by these modern rules of dating, why not oppose those too?
All of that venting aside, I am not going to blog a list of rules or "facts" about the state of modern dating. Yes, it is a shit show, but hey, we are all in this shit show together, unless you don't date, then wipe your brow casually (you dodged a bullet) and back away slowly. I am simply going to list my thoughts about dating. I don't think I know anything special about dating; if you know my dating history, you know it is relatively interesting. If you know who my parents are, you know I know a lot about what enduring relationships look like. And if you about my relationship, you know that I am very blessed. This is simply commentary and maybe it will make someone out there feel better knowing that the entire dating community has not resolved itself to accepting the "rules."
1. Talk. Talk a lot. To the person you are dating/thinking about dating/going on dates with/making out with in a semi-serious way and not about it with other people. Sure, you can talk to your friends about your relationship, but when you have a problem or an issue or a question, that's something you should talk to the person who is experiencing this relationship with you about. So much of dating nowadays is shrouded in mystery, when really it could be simple. Don't speculate with your friends about what some action/phrase/text/look could mean, simply say, "Hey you did this thing and it made me feel this way," and then see how your person reacts. That removes 90% of the drama that comes with relationships now a days. Just sit down and have a good old fashioned hash-out of all the shit that comes and goes when you invest emotions and trust in another person. Talk about your intentions and talk about their intentions, clearly outlining what your intentions are (i.e. whether you want to date or only hook up) could save you from forming the wrong kind of expectations. Hook up culture is rampant, and sometimes problematic, but I think if you clearly outline with someone that all you want out of a relationship is sex, then you are preventing a world of disappointment.
2. Don't put people into boxes. If one guy does one thing, that doesn't mean all guys are going to do the same thing to you. His actions certainly do not speak for all males. If one woman hurts you, it certainly doesn't mean all women are out to rip out your heart. Most importantly, think of yourself. Have you ever hurt someone? Chances are you have, and chances are, you don't think of yourself as a horrible monster (if you do, stop that). People hurt other people, it's a fact, it's an unavoidable truth of life, no matter how good or honest our intentions, feelings and emotions happen and we can't control them. The love(s) of your life will hurt you and you will hurt them. Relationships endure hurt, they have to, or else no one would ever be in a relationship, we'd all be breaking up with each other every day. Do not make your present person pay for the mistakes of your past persons, that is not their burden.
3. Love doesn't have anything to do with power, power has everything to do with control and games. Thus, if your relationship is a fucking video game, then yeah, you might win. But don't you want to care about someone and feel them caring about you? Isn't that the point of interacting with other human beings? So if you text someone first, that means you aren't in control, that they have power over you? Let's skew that perspective. You text someone first, cus you want to hang out, you want to see how their day is going, there is something you'd love to discuss with them, you miss them, you love them, to see their name across your phone would make your day. I can only speak for myself, but I know I have been miserable wanting to hear from someone and felt like I couldn't text them first because then I would be relinquishing power. But I have learned that texting/calling/reaching out to someone first is actually incredibly brave, it means putting yourself out there and possibly never hearing back. Plus, when you reach out to someone else, you make peace with the part of yourself that is so afraid of rejection. Rejection doesn't kill you, it actually makes you stronger.
4. The reason labels are scary goes back to the power thing. Attaching a label to your relationship is often equated with relinquishing some power. But what is really being relinquished? Your ability to sleep with whomever you want, whenever you want? Okay, if you want the freedom to sleep with anyone you want, then you probably wouldn't want to attach yourself to one person anyway, and if the person you attached yourself to only wants you to sleep with them, then they should probably be with someone who only wants to sleep with them. I've never been polyamorous, but there are people who are, who love it, so if you want to do that and still be in a relationship, I'm sure there is someone out there who is willing to be your partner in that. If you want to be in a monogamous relationship and your partner doesn't, the two of you have a huge gap in relationship preferences. And that's okay, that doesn't make them a bad person and it doesn't make you needy, it just means you want different things. You will meet a person, maybe multiple people, who are on the same page with you, not about everything but about your dealbreakers.
5. You shouldn't change. As people we grow up and we experience things and we change without even thinking about it. But, you should never feel that you have to stifle yourself, shut a part of yourself off in order to make someone else happy. You shouldn't have to feel that you need to look a certain way/act a certain way/talk a certain way to make someone else love you. Because then, isn't it just a kind of lying? You should talk how you feel good talking. You should dress how you feel good dressing. You should eat how you feel good eating. You should do things that make YOU proud of YOU. Do not make yourself into someone else to please a person you love, if they want you to be someone else, they are not in love with YOU and you will only end up resenting them for all of the changes you have made. Love does mean sacrifice and it does mean compromise, but it should never mean sacrificing or compromising your identity. A person who loves you the way you deserve to be loved will fall in love with all of your parts, the scary ones, the dirty ones, the ones you keep under lock and key, they will love even the parts of you that make them crazy, because they are yours.
6. I am a hopeless romantic. I always have been and I probably always will be. When I read the truths of modern dating, it makes me sad because I know that these things are common and that they do happen all the time. I don't have rose-colored glasses on and I don't think our culture perpetuates very many good ideas of love. I know that people tell little girls that they need to keep their legs closed if they want someone to love them, I know that people tell little boys that powerful men have lots of sex with lots of women. I know that girls often grow up watching romantic comedies where women are constantly analyzing the actions of men. I know that boys often grow up watching action movies where men are carrying out actions while women are applauding these actions/being sexy. I know that so much of our society is problematic and perpetuates that not giving a fuck is the coolest.
But...
I don't think that it means we can't have authentic, special encounters with eachother.
There will be people who you only ever hook up with once, or twice, or three times. There will be people who you have really long, awesome phone conversations with that sadly never turn into anything more. There will be people who treat you like shit who you love the shit out of anyway. There will be people who lie to your face. There will be people who are madly in love with you whose hearts you absolutely destroy. There will be people who you love so much who love you so much back, but that time, distance, or some other painful circumstances keep you from being with. There will be people who only teach you how you don't want to be treated. There will be people who teach you what you like. There will be people who teach you how to love. There will be people who only care about power and control. There will be people who just want to get down with your rocking bod. There will be people who make you believe that there is something incredibly special inside of you because of the way they look at you. There will be people who destroy you, people who rebuild you, people who make you a better person, and people who make you question everything you've ever learned.
And to them...you could be all of these things, none of these things, and more.
Don't let words written on bathroom stalls define the way you experience love.
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