So, right out the gate this morning, I come across a blogger who has written a scathing critique on Taylor Swift being one of the five named faces of #MeToo movement ( I say five, because there is a sixth "faceless" elbow that represents the next person to speak out... which would be powerful imagery if it didn't need to be explained, but it does and it has been... so maybe it's not so powerful). The blog was...well.. it was click-worthy. I imagine that's the point, right? To have something that people click on. Accuracy be damned!
The blog's title questioned Taylor Swift being on the cover. It stated clearly that the author understood that the lawsuit against the DJ who assaulted her was the reason, but that it wasn't a good enough reason. The author pushed several boundaries that left a bad taste in my mouth, going so far as to say that Taylor Swift in her "whiteness", "thinness" "blondness" and "richness" would never be something that the author could identify with, and so that she couldn't stand in solidarity with Taylor just because Taylor is a woman. The piece was clearly written from the point of view of a woman of color
Forgetting, for a moment, that Adama Iwu-an admirable woman of color who stood up for the women of California against sexual harassment inside the capitol- stands at the forefront of the photo itself. Forget that the inside article goes on to feature many people who have broken their silence on sexual impropriety on many levels. Accuracy be damned- Taylor Swift isn't victim enough! ( Apparently).
Names get tossed. Rose McGowen. Terry Crews. Aurora Perrineau. People who have spoken out and the author ( and, from what I have seen thus far, others as well), have deemed that Taylor Swift isn't victim enough. She named her assaulter, her assault was mild (in comparison), she won her lawsuit with her team of highly paid lawyers and walked away fairly unscathed. Rose McGowen lost her career! Terry Crews spoke up as a man. Aurora Perrineau spoke up against a powerful woman. Each of these examples stands as grounds to say that Taylor Swifts assault as somehow too 'generic' to be deserving of a Time Magazine Cover.
Are we really all so hipster that even our sexual assaults have to be edgy?
So, here is the problem. All of this fly directly in the face of what I see as the point of the #MeToo movement. The point, as I see it, is that we all have a story, and that a person should not be shamed into silence because their story doesn't meet certain criteria. Should Taylor Swift have turned down Time Magazine and said " Oh, no no no... I'm too white and rich and blond to be recognized for standing up to my assaulter". Or, perhaps, she should have said " Well, he just groped my ass and I don't want women who have their ass groped to think they have a voice here." Or, perhaps, she should have said " Well, I don't want white blond women to think they have a story to be told, so I can't serve as a role model to them."
Excuse me but... umm... FUCK THAT!
I could go on and on about how Taylor Swift serves as a great example of how people should behave in the face of sexual impropriety.... steadfast, unwavering and firm on her stance that her worth far exceeded the controversy and uncertainty that victims face.
However, my deeper concern is that we are working through this movement like a sport and we need to make sure we pick the right team. We are all in the place where we know ( pretty clearly) that siding with the perpetrators is the wrong side... but then we are picking teams in the assorted victim's to represent us. What is that!?!? Since when did a wrong have to meet a threshold so that we can feel validated?
And what the fuck are we saying- that a Time Magazine cover is the prize for achieving best victim?
Nope.... nope nope nope nope nope. It's all sorts of wrong.
Being a victim is just that. It is just like how a war vet can be a hero and so can Caitlyn Jenner, because it's not a competition. The prize is not in levels. I get to have my heart break for the mom who lost a child and have my heart break for the friend who lost his best friend. Tragic is tragic, and our need to quantify it leads down roads that we should be wary of. And we certainly need to be vigilant in making sure that our in-fighting over the victim qualification of Taylor Swift doesn't distract from our greater purpose of making sure that everyone has a voice in victimhood, because our in-fighting does nothing but keep the faceless women on Time Magazine's cover silent.
*Rant done*
Thursday, December 7, 2017
Tuesday, October 10, 2017
Fennel, Rush and #LifeGoals
Last week, I went to visit a friend of mine. She's one of "my people"... a tribe member where simple things can be said and we both know exactly what we are saying. My friend also faces a progressive and debilitating disease that has fundamentally shifted her ability to function as she did just a year ago. The world would called her handicapped. Politically correct assholes would call her handi-capable.
We call it fucking bullshit, and I openly tell her that I'm buying the next round of coffee because I can run faster than her. But that's how we roll.
So, last week, she tells me this story, and here is how it goes ( forgive me, friend, if I butcher this):
She went to the grocery store. Going to the grocery store has become a big deal because it's far more difficult than mundane tasks should be. This is the kinda shit that drives home the reality of her reality. My friend has canes to help her walk, so her struggles are pretty apparent to the world. Buying carrots should not be life-changing. But that's exactly what my friend was doing. Buying carrots.
A woman approaches next to her, and picks up some vegetable that is near the carrots. Said woman looks at my friend and the following transpires:
Woman: " Umm... have you ever use this?
Friend: "Fennel? Umm, yeah, but... well, I don't really like it."
Woman: " Ohh. Well, ya know.... I just wanted to tell you that I think you are inspiring."
Friend: "Umm... yeah... thanks. It's hard, but... ya know" (NOTE: I don't actually know if this is what she said... but that's what I see her saying in my head)
It became apparent to my friend that the woman came over, picked up an unknown vegetable with the specific intent of opening a conversation with my friend, just to tell her that she's an inspiration.
But here is where it gets good.
The woman then took the fennel, put it in her cart, and went on to BUY the fennel. She committed. She not only found an "in", but she stuck with it so as not to make it awkward... which was completely unavoidable.. and she bought, of all things... FENNEL!
So, on to the next part of this. Fennel is the Rush of vegetables. I said this to my friend and she instantly understood what I was saying -likely because I've expressed my strong feelings about Rush.
Curious? Don't worry- I'll explain. The band Rush is divisive. There are two kinds of people. People who LOVE Rush and people who HATE Rush. I am in the second party. Not only do I hate Rush, but I go out of my way to avoid people who LOVE Rush. Rush fans are aggressive in their pursuit to get you to love Rush. They trap you in cars and force you to listen to "this one song" that will somehow make you realize the error in your ways. When you explain to them that Geddy Lee's voice makes you want to take an ice pick to your eardrums, they will insist that you need to ignore that because Neil Peart's drumming is so amazing. And you can agree.... Neil Peart is an amazing drummer! But Neil Peart made some poor life choices by drumming behind what I can only assume is the grandfather of Calliou, because they are two of the whiniest voices to ever exist in the history of human-kind. So Neil Peart can be awesome, but he can't drum enough to make me love Rush, and you cannot shame me into loving Rush. Please stop. Rush is awful.
So, fennel is the Rush of vegetables. It's awful. People will try to convince you that it's not... but it is. They can spout off the laundry list of amazing recipes that somehow make the licorice-meets-broccoli quality of fennel become a rainbow of unicorns in my belly, but the moment I see a recipe that says " fennel", I nope the fuck outta there. Rush is awful. Fennel is awful. These are two areas where each side just needs to agree to disagree.
But this woman committed, and she bought the fennel- this awful vegetable- just so that she could tell my friend that she was an inspiration for buying carrots.
And here is the point: I want to BE that. This is a lifegoal. What in the world do I have to do in this world to be the kind of person that compels someone to buy fennel just to tell me that I inspire them? I know that this is what people who love Rush are doing... they are trying to find a way to give me something they think I need... even if it's in a way that makes me want to curl up into the fetal position to protect my flesh from a vocal assault that puts UV rays to shame. Their intent is good... I guess. But, in my friend's case, she was buying carrots... but I'm quite certain she wasn't aiming for "inspirational"... she just wanted a crunchy-yet-nutritionally-sound snack!
So, while I might make fun of this woman for committing to buying fennel, I have to give her credit for taking a moment to see something that not everyone does. My friend is an inspiration for buying carrots, and both of us are so very very sorry that you had to go home with such an terrible food as a trophy for your kind act.
You deserve better.
We call it fucking bullshit, and I openly tell her that I'm buying the next round of coffee because I can run faster than her. But that's how we roll.
So, last week, she tells me this story, and here is how it goes ( forgive me, friend, if I butcher this):
She went to the grocery store. Going to the grocery store has become a big deal because it's far more difficult than mundane tasks should be. This is the kinda shit that drives home the reality of her reality. My friend has canes to help her walk, so her struggles are pretty apparent to the world. Buying carrots should not be life-changing. But that's exactly what my friend was doing. Buying carrots.
A woman approaches next to her, and picks up some vegetable that is near the carrots. Said woman looks at my friend and the following transpires:
Woman: " Umm... have you ever use this?
Friend: "Fennel? Umm, yeah, but... well, I don't really like it."
Woman: " Ohh. Well, ya know.... I just wanted to tell you that I think you are inspiring."
Friend: "Umm... yeah... thanks. It's hard, but... ya know" (NOTE: I don't actually know if this is what she said... but that's what I see her saying in my head)
It became apparent to my friend that the woman came over, picked up an unknown vegetable with the specific intent of opening a conversation with my friend, just to tell her that she's an inspiration.
But here is where it gets good.
The woman then took the fennel, put it in her cart, and went on to BUY the fennel. She committed. She not only found an "in", but she stuck with it so as not to make it awkward... which was completely unavoidable.. and she bought, of all things... FENNEL!
So, on to the next part of this. Fennel is the Rush of vegetables. I said this to my friend and she instantly understood what I was saying -likely because I've expressed my strong feelings about Rush.
Curious? Don't worry- I'll explain. The band Rush is divisive. There are two kinds of people. People who LOVE Rush and people who HATE Rush. I am in the second party. Not only do I hate Rush, but I go out of my way to avoid people who LOVE Rush. Rush fans are aggressive in their pursuit to get you to love Rush. They trap you in cars and force you to listen to "this one song" that will somehow make you realize the error in your ways. When you explain to them that Geddy Lee's voice makes you want to take an ice pick to your eardrums, they will insist that you need to ignore that because Neil Peart's drumming is so amazing. And you can agree.... Neil Peart is an amazing drummer! But Neil Peart made some poor life choices by drumming behind what I can only assume is the grandfather of Calliou, because they are two of the whiniest voices to ever exist in the history of human-kind. So Neil Peart can be awesome, but he can't drum enough to make me love Rush, and you cannot shame me into loving Rush. Please stop. Rush is awful.
So, fennel is the Rush of vegetables. It's awful. People will try to convince you that it's not... but it is. They can spout off the laundry list of amazing recipes that somehow make the licorice-meets-broccoli quality of fennel become a rainbow of unicorns in my belly, but the moment I see a recipe that says " fennel", I nope the fuck outta there. Rush is awful. Fennel is awful. These are two areas where each side just needs to agree to disagree.
But this woman committed, and she bought the fennel- this awful vegetable- just so that she could tell my friend that she was an inspiration for buying carrots.
And here is the point: I want to BE that. This is a lifegoal. What in the world do I have to do in this world to be the kind of person that compels someone to buy fennel just to tell me that I inspire them? I know that this is what people who love Rush are doing... they are trying to find a way to give me something they think I need... even if it's in a way that makes me want to curl up into the fetal position to protect my flesh from a vocal assault that puts UV rays to shame. Their intent is good... I guess. But, in my friend's case, she was buying carrots... but I'm quite certain she wasn't aiming for "inspirational"... she just wanted a crunchy-yet-nutritionally-sound snack!
So, while I might make fun of this woman for committing to buying fennel, I have to give her credit for taking a moment to see something that not everyone does. My friend is an inspiration for buying carrots, and both of us are so very very sorry that you had to go home with such an terrible food as a trophy for your kind act.
You deserve better.
Tuesday, June 27, 2017
The Cost of Playing Clean *explicit*
A word of warning: This post contains explicit descriptions of acts which we all are aware of, we all have been known to enjoy and we all have felt shame and guilt for said enjoyment.
The topic today?
Justice Boners.
I get serious justice boners. It's a funny turn of phrase that best describes the feeling that we have when our inflated need for fairness and justice gives us a sense of relief and satisfaction. The reason this phrase is so appropriate is because the phrase, like the feeling itself, is juvenile, petty and, in most circumstances, lacks a standard of class and civility.
I don't use the word "boner" on a regular basis. I find it crass and low-brow... the cornerstone of poorly made 80's movies featuring overly-endowed women in skimpy outfits. I find it offensive. Equally, I should question my constant desire for said justice boner, mostly because I want to think it's beneath me.
But here I stand, admitting that I love a good justice boner. I love when I see justice served up before me. I enjoy when a person I think is good and right is rewarded, and I leap with joy when I see a person I perceive as bad and wrong getting smacked down by either a system or by 'karma'. I want that guy who let me merge in while in heavy traffic to have the road open before him, and I want to see the guy who cut me off with a flat tire 10 minutes later.
I want fairness to be real and I long for the ability to bend the universe in such a way that fairness is real. But alas, fairness is not real. Good things happen to bad people and bad things happen to good people. My longing for a justice boner gives me a (false) sense of control in a world full of chaos.
The worst of this comes when you know that the best course of action is to rise above it all. When you are personally wronged, the desire to bend the universe into smack-down mode is strong. So, your desire to seek out justice... to scream truth from the rafters... to expose the wrongness of the wrong.... it's alluring. Oh so alluring!
But, there is another side to it. Like the phrase itself, justice boners are juvenile and lack civility. There is a side that requires you to act above the fray. The side where you need to understand that dirty people hope to make themselves look clean by making you look dirtier... and that the only way free from that is to play clean. The right thing to do is to stay clean from it... walk away with only the satisfaction of knowing that you are allowing the truth to stand for itself and hope that the universe makes it right on its own.
But we know that the universe is an unreliable narrator.
Uncertainty is kryptonite to a person who enjoys justice boners and the universe is filled with uncertainty. I have never witnessed a guy who cut me off getting a flat tire... and while I can't dismiss that it has happened, I know that I can't lay down nails on the highway in front of him. That's not playing clean.
It's an awful feeling- this uncertainty and making a choice to not be involved in ensuring justice and fairness. When even 'defending' yourself is playing dirty and you have to hope that the truth is screamed by someone else's voice from someone else's rafters.
There is a cost to playing clean. I may never get the justice boner I desire and instead I have to be satisfied by the fact that I (silently) know I did the right thing....
...but civil-adult-decision-to-be-better-than-that-Boner just doesn't have the same ring to it.
The topic today?
Justice Boners.
I get serious justice boners. It's a funny turn of phrase that best describes the feeling that we have when our inflated need for fairness and justice gives us a sense of relief and satisfaction. The reason this phrase is so appropriate is because the phrase, like the feeling itself, is juvenile, petty and, in most circumstances, lacks a standard of class and civility.
I don't use the word "boner" on a regular basis. I find it crass and low-brow... the cornerstone of poorly made 80's movies featuring overly-endowed women in skimpy outfits. I find it offensive. Equally, I should question my constant desire for said justice boner, mostly because I want to think it's beneath me.
But here I stand, admitting that I love a good justice boner. I love when I see justice served up before me. I enjoy when a person I think is good and right is rewarded, and I leap with joy when I see a person I perceive as bad and wrong getting smacked down by either a system or by 'karma'. I want that guy who let me merge in while in heavy traffic to have the road open before him, and I want to see the guy who cut me off with a flat tire 10 minutes later.
I want fairness to be real and I long for the ability to bend the universe in such a way that fairness is real. But alas, fairness is not real. Good things happen to bad people and bad things happen to good people. My longing for a justice boner gives me a (false) sense of control in a world full of chaos.
The worst of this comes when you know that the best course of action is to rise above it all. When you are personally wronged, the desire to bend the universe into smack-down mode is strong. So, your desire to seek out justice... to scream truth from the rafters... to expose the wrongness of the wrong.... it's alluring. Oh so alluring!
But, there is another side to it. Like the phrase itself, justice boners are juvenile and lack civility. There is a side that requires you to act above the fray. The side where you need to understand that dirty people hope to make themselves look clean by making you look dirtier... and that the only way free from that is to play clean. The right thing to do is to stay clean from it... walk away with only the satisfaction of knowing that you are allowing the truth to stand for itself and hope that the universe makes it right on its own.
But we know that the universe is an unreliable narrator.
Uncertainty is kryptonite to a person who enjoys justice boners and the universe is filled with uncertainty. I have never witnessed a guy who cut me off getting a flat tire... and while I can't dismiss that it has happened, I know that I can't lay down nails on the highway in front of him. That's not playing clean.
It's an awful feeling- this uncertainty and making a choice to not be involved in ensuring justice and fairness. When even 'defending' yourself is playing dirty and you have to hope that the truth is screamed by someone else's voice from someone else's rafters.
There is a cost to playing clean. I may never get the justice boner I desire and instead I have to be satisfied by the fact that I (silently) know I did the right thing....
...but civil-adult-decision-to-be-better-than-that-Boner just doesn't have the same ring to it.
Saturday, January 7, 2017
I'm so sick of being big bad mommy
I'm laying in my bed... tears streaming out of my eyes. Snow is falling outside, and I'm hiding from having yet another epic meltdown where I plead with my daughter to take care of her stuff. This after trying to find the three-pack of gloves she got in her christmas stocking, because she wants to play in the snow, only to find half of her gifts she got just 2 weeks ago stuffed under her bed.
Gifts I stood in long lines to get for her.
Gifts we sacrificed money to make sure she got.
Stuffed under a bed next to miscellaneous crumbs and garbage.
Next to the box of floss I've asked her twenty times to stop taking out of the bathroom, but she keeps using to make some sort of contraption for the $60 super rare Skylander that she really really wanted for Christmas.
Next to a craft bottle that's been filled with my $20 shampoo that I have (again!) asked her REPEATEDLY not to use or play with.
And the frustration is building.... it hurts. It all hurts. It hurts because I feel like all I do is give and give and give. I cook. I clean. I fold laundry that is being washed for the 7th time but hadn't been actually worn because it was never put away to begin with and instead it was thrown into a pile on the floor. I work hard to make meals that everyone will eat, only to have it pushed around a plate with a look of disgust ruining all of my effort. I parse out enough money to make sure all of the kids have chargers for their xbox controllers so nobody is crying... but half of them are stuffed under the bed... so crying happens anyway.
And maybe some of it... a lot of it... is that daddy really isn't ever big bad daddy. I respect my husband... I do, and he does a great job. But, really, in reality, he's not the one who makes her life happen. Not one of those christmas gifts was planned or wrapped by him. His money went into purchasing them, but he didn't stand in line... he didn't wrap them...and many of them he didn't even know existed until she unwrapped them that morning. When she takes the floss, he doesn't need to go and buy new floss. She doesn't take his shampoo because his shampoo is in another room. He doesn't care that a shirt is being washed, dried and folded for the 7th time that hasn't been worn because he doesn't a) wash, b) dry, c) fold and d) pay attention to what she's wearing.
I don't know that the 7th washing of a sweater in the middle of July would raise a red flag to him.
And sometimes, I watch him interact with her and I'm so jealous, because it feels like she just LIKES him more. Daddy is easy-going and has fun and daddy isn't consumed with making sure these things get done because, frankly, daddy isn't the one who has to take care of these things if they don't get done. Daddy never gets asked when dinner is going to be ready, and if he was, PB&J or McDonalds is a perfectly acceptable response because that would happen so rarely.
And my husband gets it... he does. He knows this is a problem and it's part of the reason he's a great husband. He made dinner one night, and she pushed it around the plate. I think he knows how it feels, and I think he gets that I do it all the time and why it hurts. He wants to make it better. But, the problem is that it feels like... like I don't get the luxury of watching someone else go through it and only experiencing it sometime. This is my everyday... for almost 10 years. I'm spent.
And here is the part that makes me the biggest, baddest mommy. I think my kid is kinda an asshole.
So, big bad mommy is going to define asshole. An asshole is someone who doesn't care about anyone's needs but their own. An asshole is a person who claims to care, but the moment you are out of their eyeline, you are out of their thoughts. And asshole is a person who takes everything you have to give and has the gall to expect more. An asshole is a person who doesn't care about the time, money and effort you have invested in something, it is there for their taking.
So, when my kid has asked if she could use a container to mold bricks of snow, and my husband complies and gets her a container, the world is fine. When he says to her very specifically " Now, you need to bring this back when you are done playing outside", the world is fine. When, two hours after she has come inside from playing in the snow and I go to find the container still sitting in the yard, along with the snow shovel and several other things that she has determined can just be left in the middle of the yard... then she's an asshole.
And when I look at her and say " Didn't daddy tell you that you couldn't leave these in the yard?" and she says " Yes" and I ask " Then why did you leave them in the yard" and she says " I didn't think about it.". Yeah- she's an asshole!
'My parents need something... fuck them'... that's not what she's thinking. She's not thinking about us at all. It's worse than being mean, she's freaking apathetic. When she takes the 100th container of floss out of the bathroom, the 99 times I've asked her to stop doing that don't even EXIST.. the words, the effort, the time... none of that even exists to her. She has confirmed this... she doesn't even THINK about it... that's what she says why I ask her why!
And what really really kills me is that almost every moment of my life is consumed with thinking about her. There isn't a store that I go to that I don't think about what she would like to have. There isn't a moment when I look at a clock when I'm not calculating when my kid is going to need something ( 40 minutes until I have to pick up the kid from school. I have an hour to go to the store before she needs to go to that birthday party. I have 15 minutes to take a shower before I have to wake her up for school.) Seriously.... I never get to forget about something she needs! I don't get to just not think about her and leave the house and do what I want and not pick her up from school and not have her lunch ready and not make sure she gets to that birthday party. But every single simple request that I make... gone... nonexistent to her. So, yeah, it's not a "Fuck you mommy"... but dammit, it FEELS like that.
Like, can't you just think about what I need a little bit?
And here I am again... big bad mommy, because I'm pretty sure that GOOD mommies are able to stuff down every ounce of selfishness, they never expect their kid to think about a grownup's needs, and they certainly don't think their kid is an asshole.
So, instead of living up to expectation of being a big bad mommy and yelling, I'm hiding away in my bedroom, because I really just don't want to.
I don't want to be the big bad mommy who yells because I'm the big bad mommy who has her feelings hurt. And, maybe, even worst, I don't want to be the big bad mommy who created this asshole because I was trying so fucking hard to be the GOOD mommy who gives until it hurts.
Like... those Pinterest Moms who make personalized glitter water bottles for their perfect kid to take to their dance class.... do your feelings get hurt when you find that water bottle left in the middle of the back yard? When you've spent 3 hours making a customized superhero cape for your kid, does it crush your soul when you find it waded up into a ball with a half-eaten candy cane stuck to it? Or are you just so perfect that your perfect kids would never treat your effort with that much disrespect?
And what I want is one of two things: either I want my kid to care more or I want to stop caring. Either one is acceptable.
I'm exhausted. My Snowy Saturday is a bust and I just want to collapse under the pile of parental defeat I feel right now.
BLAHHHHHH!!!
Gifts I stood in long lines to get for her.
Gifts we sacrificed money to make sure she got.
Stuffed under a bed next to miscellaneous crumbs and garbage.
Next to the box of floss I've asked her twenty times to stop taking out of the bathroom, but she keeps using to make some sort of contraption for the $60 super rare Skylander that she really really wanted for Christmas.
Next to a craft bottle that's been filled with my $20 shampoo that I have (again!) asked her REPEATEDLY not to use or play with.
And the frustration is building.... it hurts. It all hurts. It hurts because I feel like all I do is give and give and give. I cook. I clean. I fold laundry that is being washed for the 7th time but hadn't been actually worn because it was never put away to begin with and instead it was thrown into a pile on the floor. I work hard to make meals that everyone will eat, only to have it pushed around a plate with a look of disgust ruining all of my effort. I parse out enough money to make sure all of the kids have chargers for their xbox controllers so nobody is crying... but half of them are stuffed under the bed... so crying happens anyway.
And maybe some of it... a lot of it... is that daddy really isn't ever big bad daddy. I respect my husband... I do, and he does a great job. But, really, in reality, he's not the one who makes her life happen. Not one of those christmas gifts was planned or wrapped by him. His money went into purchasing them, but he didn't stand in line... he didn't wrap them...and many of them he didn't even know existed until she unwrapped them that morning. When she takes the floss, he doesn't need to go and buy new floss. She doesn't take his shampoo because his shampoo is in another room. He doesn't care that a shirt is being washed, dried and folded for the 7th time that hasn't been worn because he doesn't a) wash, b) dry, c) fold and d) pay attention to what she's wearing.
I don't know that the 7th washing of a sweater in the middle of July would raise a red flag to him.
And sometimes, I watch him interact with her and I'm so jealous, because it feels like she just LIKES him more. Daddy is easy-going and has fun and daddy isn't consumed with making sure these things get done because, frankly, daddy isn't the one who has to take care of these things if they don't get done. Daddy never gets asked when dinner is going to be ready, and if he was, PB&J or McDonalds is a perfectly acceptable response because that would happen so rarely.
And my husband gets it... he does. He knows this is a problem and it's part of the reason he's a great husband. He made dinner one night, and she pushed it around the plate. I think he knows how it feels, and I think he gets that I do it all the time and why it hurts. He wants to make it better. But, the problem is that it feels like... like I don't get the luxury of watching someone else go through it and only experiencing it sometime. This is my everyday... for almost 10 years. I'm spent.
And here is the part that makes me the biggest, baddest mommy. I think my kid is kinda an asshole.
So, big bad mommy is going to define asshole. An asshole is someone who doesn't care about anyone's needs but their own. An asshole is a person who claims to care, but the moment you are out of their eyeline, you are out of their thoughts. And asshole is a person who takes everything you have to give and has the gall to expect more. An asshole is a person who doesn't care about the time, money and effort you have invested in something, it is there for their taking.
So, when my kid has asked if she could use a container to mold bricks of snow, and my husband complies and gets her a container, the world is fine. When he says to her very specifically " Now, you need to bring this back when you are done playing outside", the world is fine. When, two hours after she has come inside from playing in the snow and I go to find the container still sitting in the yard, along with the snow shovel and several other things that she has determined can just be left in the middle of the yard... then she's an asshole.
And when I look at her and say " Didn't daddy tell you that you couldn't leave these in the yard?" and she says " Yes" and I ask " Then why did you leave them in the yard" and she says " I didn't think about it.". Yeah- she's an asshole!
'My parents need something... fuck them'... that's not what she's thinking. She's not thinking about us at all. It's worse than being mean, she's freaking apathetic. When she takes the 100th container of floss out of the bathroom, the 99 times I've asked her to stop doing that don't even EXIST.. the words, the effort, the time... none of that even exists to her. She has confirmed this... she doesn't even THINK about it... that's what she says why I ask her why!
And what really really kills me is that almost every moment of my life is consumed with thinking about her. There isn't a store that I go to that I don't think about what she would like to have. There isn't a moment when I look at a clock when I'm not calculating when my kid is going to need something ( 40 minutes until I have to pick up the kid from school. I have an hour to go to the store before she needs to go to that birthday party. I have 15 minutes to take a shower before I have to wake her up for school.) Seriously.... I never get to forget about something she needs! I don't get to just not think about her and leave the house and do what I want and not pick her up from school and not have her lunch ready and not make sure she gets to that birthday party. But every single simple request that I make... gone... nonexistent to her. So, yeah, it's not a "Fuck you mommy"... but dammit, it FEELS like that.
Like, can't you just think about what I need a little bit?
And here I am again... big bad mommy, because I'm pretty sure that GOOD mommies are able to stuff down every ounce of selfishness, they never expect their kid to think about a grownup's needs, and they certainly don't think their kid is an asshole.
So, instead of living up to expectation of being a big bad mommy and yelling, I'm hiding away in my bedroom, because I really just don't want to.
I don't want to be the big bad mommy who yells because I'm the big bad mommy who has her feelings hurt. And, maybe, even worst, I don't want to be the big bad mommy who created this asshole because I was trying so fucking hard to be the GOOD mommy who gives until it hurts.
Like... those Pinterest Moms who make personalized glitter water bottles for their perfect kid to take to their dance class.... do your feelings get hurt when you find that water bottle left in the middle of the back yard? When you've spent 3 hours making a customized superhero cape for your kid, does it crush your soul when you find it waded up into a ball with a half-eaten candy cane stuck to it? Or are you just so perfect that your perfect kids would never treat your effort with that much disrespect?
And what I want is one of two things: either I want my kid to care more or I want to stop caring. Either one is acceptable.
I'm exhausted. My Snowy Saturday is a bust and I just want to collapse under the pile of parental defeat I feel right now.
BLAHHHHHH!!!
Thursday, December 29, 2016
Noel Turns 39: Five Changes and Five Rewards
Today, I turn 39. As I round this last base toward 40, I'm thinking about where I am now verses where I was just a few short years ago. For those of you that need the Readers Digest version of events, I've spent the last 4 years finding my own bliss and inside of that I have rediscovered my own marriage, embraced my own worthiness, let go of shame, stress and perfectionism, become a far better parent, lost 114 pounds, and become a happier, healthier and more well rounded version of myself..
Easy, right!?!
I could likely spend hours and hours talking about how I got here and the benefits of what I've done. But, instead, I'm going to touch on 5 changes I've made, and 5 rewards that I've experienced as a result of those changes.
Change #1: Embracing Vulnerability
It started with a TED talk. Well, really it started with a several month long nervous breakdown and me searching for something that would help... then a TED talk. The speaker was Brene Brown, and if I could tell Dr. Brown how much she has changed my life, I would. Her insight made more sense to me and my struggles than anything else I have seen. And I started where she starts: Vulnerability.
I, like most people, saw vulnerability as weakness. The idea of admitting when I was struggling would fill me with panic. I existed in a world where my self-worth was bound and tied (like a hostage victim) to the perception that I was doing everything perfectly and that nobody would see the cracks in my armor. I was convinced that if anyone saw me struggling they would determine me fundamentally unlovable. I could go on and on about my "unlovability" issues, but unpacking that box is a bit much for a random blog post. The point here is that I started with embracing vulnerability- admitting when I struggled. I started small... in fact, I can tell you the very first time I did it ( a Facebook post admitting to the world that I felt like a bad mommy because I forgot my daughters Jeans Day at school). This was toe-in-the-water stuff, but I did it. At first, it had to be an act of will... I had to decide to do this thing that was incredibly uncomfortable to me. But, not even slowly, I went from toe to foot to leg to dipping myself fully into the warm water of vulnerability. And this amazing thing happened...
It didn't kill me.
Not only did it not kill me, but I found it completely satisfying. When I said I was struggling, I didn't get back 'OMG- I can't believe you struggle with that! You must be a completely unlovable moron'. Instead, I got a line of people who echoed my struggle with 'Oh, I've been there!', 'I know exactly how you feel', and 'That thing doesn't make you horrible at all!'. The more vulnerable I was, the more people embraced me. My relationships got stronger as a result of me allowing others to see me... really see me- warts and all. If I had to pick just one thing that changed me, it would be embracing vulnerability, and in fact, the rest of my changes list are really just variations of embracing vulnerability. It was a game changer.
Reward #1- I am Flawed and Amazing
It's difficult for me to pick just one reward to attribute to embracing vulnerability, but if my hand is forced, I would say it's this:
The more I admitted I struggled, the more worthy I felt.-
This felt, at first, to be an inverse correlation. How would it be that exposing my flaws ( and there are many) would make me feel like a better person? I can't entirely explain in, but as I peeled away each layer of 'weakness', I was casting aside the shame that protected it for so long. Each failure and struggle stopped being a representation of *who I was*. Guilt is 'I did something wrong'... Shame is "I AM wrong". And when you start to exercise vulnerability and shed the trappings of failure and struggling being the whole of who you are ( and find that people not only don't reject you, but actually embrace you more!), your sense of self-worth begins to skyrocket. I felt like a superhero who was hiding away her cape for so long for fear that someone would judge me for it.
The take away: If you want to feel awesome and be awesome, start by admitting all the ways that you aren't awesome.
Change #2- Authenticity
Like I said, I could likely place everything under the umbrella of vulnerability, but identifying what authenticity looks like and what that means does deserve it's own recognition.
Authenticity is about truth: the truth of what happens, the truth of who we are, the truth of how we feel. The best way to understand authenticity is to understand what it's not.
Authenticity is not avoiding a hard conversation. Authenticity is not pretending that everything is fine because confronting that it's not fine is difficult or uncomfortable. Authenticity is not burying our heads in the sand and hoping that everything will get better with time. And, most importantly, authenticity is not pretending to be the person that we think others want us to be so they will love us.
Reward #2 You Get to Love the REAL Me
When you live authentically- tell the truth, even the ones that don't make you look or feel so great, you are allowing others to make a choice, and it's a really important choice: love the real me... or don't. But, I'm not going to proceed in a relationship with you where I am not me, because that is a relationship based on a lie.
Looking back on my life, I can see now that I have had a lot of relationships like this. Relationships where I twisted myself into being a person I thought others wanted me to be. Looking at it now, I realize that it's sort of like someone falling in love with an actor who they expect to be a character from one of their roles. John Cusack is not Lloyd Dobler. Kate Winslet was not on the Titanic. Any relationship where the expectation that they are those people is a relationship doomed for failure. It's silly to think to yourself "I don't understand why this person doesn't love me wholly and completely when I've completely hidden away everything that I think and feel that they wouldn't like." I mean, really... that's insanity.
The takeaway here: A relationship that is based in truth will always be more rewarding, even if he truths are uncomfortable in a moment.
Change #3 Re-Framing Toxic Relationships
This is hard, because each of these really do relate to one another, so this is a branch to authenticity... but it's an important one.
It is perfectly okay to have expectations from others in your relationships...sorta.
Allow me to explain. It is okay to be authentic with others. It is okay to expect authenticity from others. In fact, these things aren't just okay- they are vital. What is not okay is expecting that others will simply bend to your way. They won't. But, it's important that you set the standard, so long as you understand that the standard will lead to either an authentic relationship or parting ways with someone who either isn't real with you or isn't okay with the real you.
In this it's really important to understand your role in toxic relationships. You need to move beyond the idea of being the victim of someone else's toxicity and look at the role you play there. Very often you will find that you contributed to a toxic environment, either because you were unwilling to be authentic with them or because you are tied to some idea that you had to have a relationship with them that was framed by something other than your actually feelings about them.
This is especially true with family.
I'm not sure if this dates back to a tribal society, where our family became the cornerstone of our survival, but the more I talk to people, the more I find that there are people who feel tied to family members regardless of their actually feelings about those family members. While we can maintain good, positive relationships with people that we pick, we can also have these incredibly toxic, inauthentic relationships that bare little resemblance to actual relationships under the auspices that we 'have to'. This is crap... we don't have to. We are not required to have have a relationship with those people...or, should I say, I are not require to change the standard of relationships with those people.
This is not the same as 'cutting out the cancer'. You shouldn't suddenly start a pink-slip line to every relative you don't have an authentic relationship with, because there is value in family relationships. It means you have to work even harder to FIND an authentic relationship there. You have to start an authentic relationships with them, and ask them to do the same. You have to, in your own way, say "I'm in if you are in, but it's going to be real and I'm going to hold you to the same standard as someone who isn't family". DNA does not bind you to someone and does not bind you to a toxic relationship, and it does not remove the need for authenticity. However, if you can find an authentic relationship there, it has the potential to be one of the greatest relationships you can have.
Reward #3 Quality, Not Quantity
The reward here is simple to understand: you might not have as many relationships, but the ones you have will be worth a great deal more. This is the difference between having 3,000 Twitter followers who scroll right past what you say and having 10 Twitter followers who are engaged, replying and retweeting. The truth is that Twitter ( like life) isn't interesting without engagement and connection, and Twitter doesn't give you any personal satisfaction without notifications of engagement from others.
There is a temptation to revert when the re-framing of relationships goes sour... and it can. People you thought you knew may not like the new 'authentic' you. That has to be okay, and you have to allow them that, because a relationship with the fake you won't give you much anyway... just like John Cusack can't possibly pursue a fulfilling relationship with someone who wants him to stand outside their window blasting Peter Gabriel.
Change #4 Parenting without Perfection
The hardest part of my nervous breakdown was seeing what my behavior was doing to my child. I was setting her up for an impossible standard. Children see all and mimic all. When I was on a path of hiding everything- burying my struggles, hiding behind perfectionism, pursuing inauthentic relationships- I was setting the stage for a child who existed within the same vacuum of shame that I existed in for so long ( if not worse!).
If you think about it, childhood is the perfect space in which to breed shame. In childhood, you are pretty much a prime target for having blame and shame hoisted upon you, while those who put it on you never have to do the same. Being is kid is all about what you do wrong. Your room isn't clean enough... your homework isn't right... don't use those words... bad bad bad bad. But, kids never get to be authentic back. They don't get to say " Hey, mom, I noticed you haven't folded the laundry in three days'. In fact, one of the major perks of being a grownup is that we can be imperfect under someone else's standard and not be called out on it.... while childhood is pretty much constantly being called out on it. And one of the perks of parenthood ( a really flawed perk, in my opinion) is that we hide away our own imperfections and struggles in order to maintain a false sense of authority, demanding "respect" because of our title as mom or dad... even if we don't deserve it.
This is the perfect stage for another inauthentic, toxic relationship. And, if you ask grown children about their parents, it's not difficult to see this.
So, I changed my own behavior and I started owning my flaws to my kid. I stopped hiding my imperfections and struggles and started sharing them with her. In fact, in our family, we have a time at dinner when we share our struggles for the day. We started embracing being honest over being proper. We let go of the idea of respect-for-respects-sake, and started working toward the idea that if we wanted to have a positive impact on our child's life, we had to earn it authentically. We want her to love the real us... not the perfect image we 'allowed' her to see.
And most importantly, we wanted her to know that she was worthy of love, even when ( or especially when) she wasn't perfect.
Reward #4 My Kid Screws Up... and That's Okay
I would love to tell you that I've embraced all of this and I suddenly have a child who does no wrong... but that's not true. My kid messes up and I still get irritated by it. But, we talk about it... really talk about it. And when she messes up, she owns it. She doesn't hide from it. She takes it on, and her ability to embrace the bad feelings makes it that she's not afraid.
And I was raising a child who was afraid of bad feelings.
The differences are something that you would have to be a parent to understand. My daughter tried out for a school play... a child who a few years ago would have been so terrified of failure that she wouldn't even try. Tests don't give her anxiety anymore. Last summer she rode on rollercoasters... because she decided that she wasn't afraid of being afraid. Just last week, at her school's Holiday Show, my daughter was one of about 7 kids from a class of 80 who was up front and performing a choreographed dance to a song. She told us after the fact that the way she was picked to be in that group of dancers was that simply asked who wanted to be brave enough to do it. If you have a child who has been afraid to take risks, you will understand why this filled me with more pride than if she had been told to be one of the dancers because she knew it better than other kids or because she was a better dancer. Think about that for a second- less than 10% of those kids were brave enough to get up there and dance in front of their families.
Telling, right?
So, my child lives in a world where making a mistake is just that. It's not tied to her self-worth. It's not about how lovable she is. Her parents actively work to earn her love and respect. We want our kid to like who we are, and we don't demand love from her based on our position or fear. When we talk to her, she really listens... she doesn't just listen because she's afraid of the consequences for not listening. And, most importantly, she has a mom who is willing to admit when she is wrong, and isn't afraid of the risk of that. She is braver because I am braver.
Change #5 Stop Towing Someone Else's Line
I think that if there is one thing that has changed fundamentally about it, it's that I don't hold on to other people's ideas about rightness or wrongness like I use to. This is a big one, so bear with me for a minute.
I use to carry around this idea that good and bad were binary. Either you are A, B, C, and D and you were good or your were X, Y and Z and your were bad. You fell into a certain camp, and if you thought A and B, you couldn't also think Y and Z without being rejected.
What is funny about this is that is that my perception isn't wrong... this is how people operate. People do operate under the idea that this *IS* the party line, and if you don't agree with each and every point in the party line, you are not a part of the party and will be rejected.
The difference now? I don't care.
I can agree with A, B, and C, but not agree with D, and not be afraid of the consequences of not agreeing with D. Also, I can agree with X and Y... or even points of X and points of Y. I can work to understand the position of others without diminishing them or reducing their ideas to soundbites. I can look at facts objectively and form my own opinions and not be afraid of rejection by my peers.
I am done being shamed from having thoughts and feelings that you don't agree with. And I am done shaming others for doing the same.
Result #5 I Am Enough, and So Are You
This is all about embracing vulnerability, authenticity and the letting go of shame, and speaks far more about my relationship to others than it does about me. Because, for the first time, I'm willing to listen to what people have to say without my own filter. When I stopped towing other people's lines, I was able to finally form opinions of my own... and find common ground where I didn't before. I have a desire to be really seen by other, but even more intensely, I have a desire to see who others really are. In my asking of others to stop assigning values to me, I have stopped assigning values to others. Now, I will hear your opinion and thoughts and try to understand your position, instead of just chalking up your ideas as stupid, uneducated or worthless. I will practice active empathy, instead of just asking others to have empathy for me.
I have stopped simply waiting for my turn to talk.
The take-away from this one is simple: in my own journey toward worthiness, I have discovered the worthiness of others. I work to see them in the way I now desire to be seen. I lived my life for so long in fear of being reduced by others, only to realize that I was reducing others, and when I stopped allowing that fear to control me I was finally able to stop letting my ideas control others.
This feels like a good place to end, but like all great lists, there has to be a bonus. So...
Bonus: I Am Worthy Because I Am Worthy
Dr. Brown says it best: The people who have real connect with others have that because they believe they are worthy of connect. It is that simple and that complicated.
My connections are stronger and I am stronger because I believe I am worthy of that much. I am vulnerable because my flaws are not tied to my worthiness. I am authentic because I believe that the real honest me is worthy of being real and honest. I am in real, non-toxic relationships because I believe I am worthy of real relationships. I parent with imperfection because I believe that myself and my child have worth regardless of everything being perfect. I have expanded by universe of understanding that even a differing opinion has worth, whether it's my opinion or yours.
A few years ago, I might have looked at my life and said I was lucky. That's not how I feel today. My life and my happiness is not happenstance or randomness. I decided to have this life. I made a decision to have enough compassion for myself to knock down those walls and rebuild them into something better, and I am continuing to do that everyday. Year 38 was way better than year 37, and I am walking into year 39 confident that it will be even better than year 38. This year has been a full of ups and downs, but it has been the perfect backdrop to discover how these things have changed me, and to challenge this new way of thinking and find out exactly how far it can go... and apparently it can go much further than even I anticipated.
I kicked 2016's ass... I plan on kicking 2017's ass. But, for now, I'm going to go and enjoy some Melting Pot with my sweet husband and enjoy being me.
Easy, right!?!
I could likely spend hours and hours talking about how I got here and the benefits of what I've done. But, instead, I'm going to touch on 5 changes I've made, and 5 rewards that I've experienced as a result of those changes.
Change #1: Embracing Vulnerability
It started with a TED talk. Well, really it started with a several month long nervous breakdown and me searching for something that would help... then a TED talk. The speaker was Brene Brown, and if I could tell Dr. Brown how much she has changed my life, I would. Her insight made more sense to me and my struggles than anything else I have seen. And I started where she starts: Vulnerability.
I, like most people, saw vulnerability as weakness. The idea of admitting when I was struggling would fill me with panic. I existed in a world where my self-worth was bound and tied (like a hostage victim) to the perception that I was doing everything perfectly and that nobody would see the cracks in my armor. I was convinced that if anyone saw me struggling they would determine me fundamentally unlovable. I could go on and on about my "unlovability" issues, but unpacking that box is a bit much for a random blog post. The point here is that I started with embracing vulnerability- admitting when I struggled. I started small... in fact, I can tell you the very first time I did it ( a Facebook post admitting to the world that I felt like a bad mommy because I forgot my daughters Jeans Day at school). This was toe-in-the-water stuff, but I did it. At first, it had to be an act of will... I had to decide to do this thing that was incredibly uncomfortable to me. But, not even slowly, I went from toe to foot to leg to dipping myself fully into the warm water of vulnerability. And this amazing thing happened...
It didn't kill me.
Not only did it not kill me, but I found it completely satisfying. When I said I was struggling, I didn't get back 'OMG- I can't believe you struggle with that! You must be a completely unlovable moron'. Instead, I got a line of people who echoed my struggle with 'Oh, I've been there!', 'I know exactly how you feel', and 'That thing doesn't make you horrible at all!'. The more vulnerable I was, the more people embraced me. My relationships got stronger as a result of me allowing others to see me... really see me- warts and all. If I had to pick just one thing that changed me, it would be embracing vulnerability, and in fact, the rest of my changes list are really just variations of embracing vulnerability. It was a game changer.
Reward #1- I am Flawed and Amazing
It's difficult for me to pick just one reward to attribute to embracing vulnerability, but if my hand is forced, I would say it's this:
The more I admitted I struggled, the more worthy I felt.-
This felt, at first, to be an inverse correlation. How would it be that exposing my flaws ( and there are many) would make me feel like a better person? I can't entirely explain in, but as I peeled away each layer of 'weakness', I was casting aside the shame that protected it for so long. Each failure and struggle stopped being a representation of *who I was*. Guilt is 'I did something wrong'... Shame is "I AM wrong". And when you start to exercise vulnerability and shed the trappings of failure and struggling being the whole of who you are ( and find that people not only don't reject you, but actually embrace you more!), your sense of self-worth begins to skyrocket. I felt like a superhero who was hiding away her cape for so long for fear that someone would judge me for it.
The take away: If you want to feel awesome and be awesome, start by admitting all the ways that you aren't awesome.
Change #2- Authenticity
Like I said, I could likely place everything under the umbrella of vulnerability, but identifying what authenticity looks like and what that means does deserve it's own recognition.
Authenticity is about truth: the truth of what happens, the truth of who we are, the truth of how we feel. The best way to understand authenticity is to understand what it's not.
Authenticity is not avoiding a hard conversation. Authenticity is not pretending that everything is fine because confronting that it's not fine is difficult or uncomfortable. Authenticity is not burying our heads in the sand and hoping that everything will get better with time. And, most importantly, authenticity is not pretending to be the person that we think others want us to be so they will love us.
Reward #2 You Get to Love the REAL Me
When you live authentically- tell the truth, even the ones that don't make you look or feel so great, you are allowing others to make a choice, and it's a really important choice: love the real me... or don't. But, I'm not going to proceed in a relationship with you where I am not me, because that is a relationship based on a lie.
Looking back on my life, I can see now that I have had a lot of relationships like this. Relationships where I twisted myself into being a person I thought others wanted me to be. Looking at it now, I realize that it's sort of like someone falling in love with an actor who they expect to be a character from one of their roles. John Cusack is not Lloyd Dobler. Kate Winslet was not on the Titanic. Any relationship where the expectation that they are those people is a relationship doomed for failure. It's silly to think to yourself "I don't understand why this person doesn't love me wholly and completely when I've completely hidden away everything that I think and feel that they wouldn't like." I mean, really... that's insanity.
The takeaway here: A relationship that is based in truth will always be more rewarding, even if he truths are uncomfortable in a moment.
Change #3 Re-Framing Toxic Relationships
This is hard, because each of these really do relate to one another, so this is a branch to authenticity... but it's an important one.
It is perfectly okay to have expectations from others in your relationships...sorta.
Allow me to explain. It is okay to be authentic with others. It is okay to expect authenticity from others. In fact, these things aren't just okay- they are vital. What is not okay is expecting that others will simply bend to your way. They won't. But, it's important that you set the standard, so long as you understand that the standard will lead to either an authentic relationship or parting ways with someone who either isn't real with you or isn't okay with the real you.
In this it's really important to understand your role in toxic relationships. You need to move beyond the idea of being the victim of someone else's toxicity and look at the role you play there. Very often you will find that you contributed to a toxic environment, either because you were unwilling to be authentic with them or because you are tied to some idea that you had to have a relationship with them that was framed by something other than your actually feelings about them.
This is especially true with family.
I'm not sure if this dates back to a tribal society, where our family became the cornerstone of our survival, but the more I talk to people, the more I find that there are people who feel tied to family members regardless of their actually feelings about those family members. While we can maintain good, positive relationships with people that we pick, we can also have these incredibly toxic, inauthentic relationships that bare little resemblance to actual relationships under the auspices that we 'have to'. This is crap... we don't have to. We are not required to have have a relationship with those people...or, should I say, I are not require to change the standard of relationships with those people.
This is not the same as 'cutting out the cancer'. You shouldn't suddenly start a pink-slip line to every relative you don't have an authentic relationship with, because there is value in family relationships. It means you have to work even harder to FIND an authentic relationship there. You have to start an authentic relationships with them, and ask them to do the same. You have to, in your own way, say "I'm in if you are in, but it's going to be real and I'm going to hold you to the same standard as someone who isn't family". DNA does not bind you to someone and does not bind you to a toxic relationship, and it does not remove the need for authenticity. However, if you can find an authentic relationship there, it has the potential to be one of the greatest relationships you can have.
Reward #3 Quality, Not Quantity
The reward here is simple to understand: you might not have as many relationships, but the ones you have will be worth a great deal more. This is the difference between having 3,000 Twitter followers who scroll right past what you say and having 10 Twitter followers who are engaged, replying and retweeting. The truth is that Twitter ( like life) isn't interesting without engagement and connection, and Twitter doesn't give you any personal satisfaction without notifications of engagement from others.
There is a temptation to revert when the re-framing of relationships goes sour... and it can. People you thought you knew may not like the new 'authentic' you. That has to be okay, and you have to allow them that, because a relationship with the fake you won't give you much anyway... just like John Cusack can't possibly pursue a fulfilling relationship with someone who wants him to stand outside their window blasting Peter Gabriel.
Change #4 Parenting without Perfection
The hardest part of my nervous breakdown was seeing what my behavior was doing to my child. I was setting her up for an impossible standard. Children see all and mimic all. When I was on a path of hiding everything- burying my struggles, hiding behind perfectionism, pursuing inauthentic relationships- I was setting the stage for a child who existed within the same vacuum of shame that I existed in for so long ( if not worse!).
If you think about it, childhood is the perfect space in which to breed shame. In childhood, you are pretty much a prime target for having blame and shame hoisted upon you, while those who put it on you never have to do the same. Being is kid is all about what you do wrong. Your room isn't clean enough... your homework isn't right... don't use those words... bad bad bad bad. But, kids never get to be authentic back. They don't get to say " Hey, mom, I noticed you haven't folded the laundry in three days'. In fact, one of the major perks of being a grownup is that we can be imperfect under someone else's standard and not be called out on it.... while childhood is pretty much constantly being called out on it. And one of the perks of parenthood ( a really flawed perk, in my opinion) is that we hide away our own imperfections and struggles in order to maintain a false sense of authority, demanding "respect" because of our title as mom or dad... even if we don't deserve it.
This is the perfect stage for another inauthentic, toxic relationship. And, if you ask grown children about their parents, it's not difficult to see this.
So, I changed my own behavior and I started owning my flaws to my kid. I stopped hiding my imperfections and struggles and started sharing them with her. In fact, in our family, we have a time at dinner when we share our struggles for the day. We started embracing being honest over being proper. We let go of the idea of respect-for-respects-sake, and started working toward the idea that if we wanted to have a positive impact on our child's life, we had to earn it authentically. We want her to love the real us... not the perfect image we 'allowed' her to see.
And most importantly, we wanted her to know that she was worthy of love, even when ( or especially when) she wasn't perfect.
Reward #4 My Kid Screws Up... and That's Okay
I would love to tell you that I've embraced all of this and I suddenly have a child who does no wrong... but that's not true. My kid messes up and I still get irritated by it. But, we talk about it... really talk about it. And when she messes up, she owns it. She doesn't hide from it. She takes it on, and her ability to embrace the bad feelings makes it that she's not afraid.
And I was raising a child who was afraid of bad feelings.
The differences are something that you would have to be a parent to understand. My daughter tried out for a school play... a child who a few years ago would have been so terrified of failure that she wouldn't even try. Tests don't give her anxiety anymore. Last summer she rode on rollercoasters... because she decided that she wasn't afraid of being afraid. Just last week, at her school's Holiday Show, my daughter was one of about 7 kids from a class of 80 who was up front and performing a choreographed dance to a song. She told us after the fact that the way she was picked to be in that group of dancers was that simply asked who wanted to be brave enough to do it. If you have a child who has been afraid to take risks, you will understand why this filled me with more pride than if she had been told to be one of the dancers because she knew it better than other kids or because she was a better dancer. Think about that for a second- less than 10% of those kids were brave enough to get up there and dance in front of their families.
Telling, right?
So, my child lives in a world where making a mistake is just that. It's not tied to her self-worth. It's not about how lovable she is. Her parents actively work to earn her love and respect. We want our kid to like who we are, and we don't demand love from her based on our position or fear. When we talk to her, she really listens... she doesn't just listen because she's afraid of the consequences for not listening. And, most importantly, she has a mom who is willing to admit when she is wrong, and isn't afraid of the risk of that. She is braver because I am braver.
Change #5 Stop Towing Someone Else's Line
I think that if there is one thing that has changed fundamentally about it, it's that I don't hold on to other people's ideas about rightness or wrongness like I use to. This is a big one, so bear with me for a minute.
I use to carry around this idea that good and bad were binary. Either you are A, B, C, and D and you were good or your were X, Y and Z and your were bad. You fell into a certain camp, and if you thought A and B, you couldn't also think Y and Z without being rejected.
What is funny about this is that is that my perception isn't wrong... this is how people operate. People do operate under the idea that this *IS* the party line, and if you don't agree with each and every point in the party line, you are not a part of the party and will be rejected.
The difference now? I don't care.
I can agree with A, B, and C, but not agree with D, and not be afraid of the consequences of not agreeing with D. Also, I can agree with X and Y... or even points of X and points of Y. I can work to understand the position of others without diminishing them or reducing their ideas to soundbites. I can look at facts objectively and form my own opinions and not be afraid of rejection by my peers.
I am done being shamed from having thoughts and feelings that you don't agree with. And I am done shaming others for doing the same.
Result #5 I Am Enough, and So Are You
This is all about embracing vulnerability, authenticity and the letting go of shame, and speaks far more about my relationship to others than it does about me. Because, for the first time, I'm willing to listen to what people have to say without my own filter. When I stopped towing other people's lines, I was able to finally form opinions of my own... and find common ground where I didn't before. I have a desire to be really seen by other, but even more intensely, I have a desire to see who others really are. In my asking of others to stop assigning values to me, I have stopped assigning values to others. Now, I will hear your opinion and thoughts and try to understand your position, instead of just chalking up your ideas as stupid, uneducated or worthless. I will practice active empathy, instead of just asking others to have empathy for me.
I have stopped simply waiting for my turn to talk.
The take-away from this one is simple: in my own journey toward worthiness, I have discovered the worthiness of others. I work to see them in the way I now desire to be seen. I lived my life for so long in fear of being reduced by others, only to realize that I was reducing others, and when I stopped allowing that fear to control me I was finally able to stop letting my ideas control others.
This feels like a good place to end, but like all great lists, there has to be a bonus. So...
Bonus: I Am Worthy Because I Am Worthy
Dr. Brown says it best: The people who have real connect with others have that because they believe they are worthy of connect. It is that simple and that complicated.
My connections are stronger and I am stronger because I believe I am worthy of that much. I am vulnerable because my flaws are not tied to my worthiness. I am authentic because I believe that the real honest me is worthy of being real and honest. I am in real, non-toxic relationships because I believe I am worthy of real relationships. I parent with imperfection because I believe that myself and my child have worth regardless of everything being perfect. I have expanded by universe of understanding that even a differing opinion has worth, whether it's my opinion or yours.
A few years ago, I might have looked at my life and said I was lucky. That's not how I feel today. My life and my happiness is not happenstance or randomness. I decided to have this life. I made a decision to have enough compassion for myself to knock down those walls and rebuild them into something better, and I am continuing to do that everyday. Year 38 was way better than year 37, and I am walking into year 39 confident that it will be even better than year 38. This year has been a full of ups and downs, but it has been the perfect backdrop to discover how these things have changed me, and to challenge this new way of thinking and find out exactly how far it can go... and apparently it can go much further than even I anticipated.
I kicked 2016's ass... I plan on kicking 2017's ass. But, for now, I'm going to go and enjoy some Melting Pot with my sweet husband and enjoy being me.
Saturday, October 8, 2016
Why Donald Trumps words against women won't matter 11 years later
Yesterday, I picked up my daughter from school. She relayed something bad that happened. Her bully, a boy who has relentlessly taunted her for almost a year and had put is hands on her in a physically aggressive manner twice in the last three weeks, was given the 'Wisdom' recognition with other children during that morning's assembly. She was confused on how the school can possibly think that this boy displayed any qualities that would garner him an award. I tried to explain that these awards are given to every child throughout the year, all under different umbrella concepts, but that really, they are 'participation awards'... everyone gets one.
But I understood how she felt. I've been there... watching as people who have done something wrong go on with their lives without their wrongs held against them. I know how it hurts.
When I was 13, a boy in my class showed up at my apartment when my mother was not home. I let him in because I didn't anticipate what was about to happen. After just a few minutes, he cornered me and grabbed at my breasts. It was unwelcome, and when he didn't stop when I tried to push his hands away, I kneed him in the balls. He doubled over, and we were fortunately close enough to the front door that I was able to open the door and push him out of it.
That moment is not what damaged me. Don't get me wrong- the moment of unwanted grabbing that so many many women have experienced has an impact. Those moments seem to go so fast and so slow at the same time. The gut-punch of someone invading your personal space and taking a part of your body as something that belongs to them.... the not knowing how to react in the moment. There is an impact. But frankly, that wasn't what scarred me. It was the weeks that followed that left the deepest wounds.
I instantly called a friend who lived down the street. I was 13 and I didn't really know what to do. I told her exactly what happened. Word got out and I was quickly painted as a liar. He denied it ever happened, and one of his friends even backed him up by saying that it couldn't have happened because he was at his house. I spent months with people whispering that I was a liar, his friends calling my house and harassing me. When people talk about how victims of sexual assault are victimized over and over again, it's the truth. This is the environment that being sexually assaulted puts you into... constantly having to be on the defensive. Justifying why it was wrong, often having to defend that it happened at all. This is the reason that people often do not report sexual assault.
I know a lot of people who have been the victim of sexual assault encounters. For the purposes of this post, I'm going to speak about women... but I assure you that I am aware that it is not just women who are victimized like this. For women who have experienced this... an unwanted grab, a moment of fear, and invasion of our personal sexual space... they hear what Donald Trump said and they think to themselves " That's exactly the kind of environment that created my perpetrator".
I want to clarify something. All those many many years ago, the perception was that I was lying... that I had to be lying... because him grabbing my breasts had to be an indicator that he liked me and found me attractive, and I was not an attractive little girl, so clearly I was a liar. This would be the perception of someone with a healthy sexual attitude... but it is a myth, and it is the reason that sexual assault is about power and not about physical attraction. I never felt like this kid 'liked' me. I never felt that this was about other than something very simple. He wanted to touch a girls body. I was a girl. Any girl would have done... I was an easy mark. He felt like he was entitled to touch me even if I didn't want him to. Somewhere along the line, something told him that was his right, and that my rights not to be touched didn't matter.
Painting me as a liar was easy for him, and really made it simple for him to do what he wanted and move on.
But when I think about the difficult part, what really stand out to me was the fact that I had to watch him move in with his life with everyone around him allowing it. He would continue to get praise when he did something right. He would get parts in school productions, get recognition for achievements and I would have to just have to move on with my life, watching as what he did to me wasn't a part of those decision making processes.
So, when my daughter tells me that she doesn't understand, I understand that feeling.
That same day, I watched as what little defense was available for Donald Trumps graphic words about women and how he is allowed to treat them, and I wasn't shocked by what his defenders said.
"It was 11 years ago".
" It's words, not actions".
And in my mind, the rule has become that a person who participates in inappropriate sexual abuses toward another is given much more latitude than those who are victimized. Because I can tell you for sure that here I sit... 25 years later... and I'm sure that boy has not thought about me or what he did to me in those years. But I have. Many many many times. I have thoughts like " I have a girl... I wonder if he had kids and if he has a 13 year old daughter and how he would feel if someone did that to his little girl." And, I'll admit it... I found him online. I've only looked once. He appears to moved on to a life that is both middle-class and unremarkable. Part of me thought I might find someone with a history of sexual abuse.. that I was witness to the start of the monster he would become. But, alas, that is not the case. In his middle-of-the-road career, nobody ever asked him about that time when he tried to feel up a protesting little girl while having her backed up against a corner and the subsequent campaign to discredit her to her peers. They don't care. He doesn't care. I can assure you that I still care.
When I hear those words and the response, which aligns itself well with the 'boys will be boys' mentality... things like 'locker room talk'.... and I wonder about what kind of 'locker room talk' led to that moment in the corner of my apartment. I become disheartened. I don't want this for my little girl; A social mentality that the objectification of women and their bodies and the public perception that a woman's body parts are someone else's to be taken, instead of hers to provide. And worse, that people who say those things are allowed to be forgiven and that we should all just move on from it. This DEFINES rape culture. It is a society that tells us that talk doesn't matter and that actions don't matter if they can't be absolutely proven, and that the burden of that proof rests on a victim and not on the perpetrator... especially when it comes to matters like a woman's right to not be groped. It is a society that tells us that time has passed and we should just get over it.
And it's the fact that time does pass and when you are victimized like that, the world ' getting over it' sometimes hurts more than the act itself. The fact that the playing field is that leveled hurts. He shouldn't have equal opportunity. He shouldn't get a participation award. The bar for unforgivable actions and words should change.
So, when I mesh all of these thoughts together, this is what I come to: We will be told that Donald Trump's words don't matter because they weren't actions. And actions are the indicators of a sexual predator, not words. But women who have been sexually abused in some manner know that those words drift into the ears of little boys who don't understand those lines, and what they hear is a reinforcement that what they want, they should take. I wouldn't say that what Donald Trump said makes him a sexual predator.... but I can tell you that it defines what we mean when we say 'rape culture', in that a woman's body parts are available for the taking regardless of the intent. I will tell you that the idea that objectification like this is exactly why women are painted as liars. You tell men and boys that women's bodies are for their use, and then when they take them and abuse them, you play it off like 'well that was just talk', and people with healthy sexual attitudes don't understand that for some people with unhealthy sexual attitudes, it's not about attraction... it's about power, and they don't believe a victim because in their minds, it wouldn't happen any other way.
Donald Trump's words from 11 years ago matter today to victims of sexual assault know that there isn't a timeline when it becomes okay... just like my daughter knows that the kid who pushed her to the ground last week didn't deserve any kind of recognition yesterday. Because in the harsh light of reality, words and actions have far greater consequences than most people realize, and the standard of forgiveness with the passage of time echos in the ears of victims far longer than any of us should be comfortable with.
But I understood how she felt. I've been there... watching as people who have done something wrong go on with their lives without their wrongs held against them. I know how it hurts.
When I was 13, a boy in my class showed up at my apartment when my mother was not home. I let him in because I didn't anticipate what was about to happen. After just a few minutes, he cornered me and grabbed at my breasts. It was unwelcome, and when he didn't stop when I tried to push his hands away, I kneed him in the balls. He doubled over, and we were fortunately close enough to the front door that I was able to open the door and push him out of it.
That moment is not what damaged me. Don't get me wrong- the moment of unwanted grabbing that so many many women have experienced has an impact. Those moments seem to go so fast and so slow at the same time. The gut-punch of someone invading your personal space and taking a part of your body as something that belongs to them.... the not knowing how to react in the moment. There is an impact. But frankly, that wasn't what scarred me. It was the weeks that followed that left the deepest wounds.
I instantly called a friend who lived down the street. I was 13 and I didn't really know what to do. I told her exactly what happened. Word got out and I was quickly painted as a liar. He denied it ever happened, and one of his friends even backed him up by saying that it couldn't have happened because he was at his house. I spent months with people whispering that I was a liar, his friends calling my house and harassing me. When people talk about how victims of sexual assault are victimized over and over again, it's the truth. This is the environment that being sexually assaulted puts you into... constantly having to be on the defensive. Justifying why it was wrong, often having to defend that it happened at all. This is the reason that people often do not report sexual assault.
I know a lot of people who have been the victim of sexual assault encounters. For the purposes of this post, I'm going to speak about women... but I assure you that I am aware that it is not just women who are victimized like this. For women who have experienced this... an unwanted grab, a moment of fear, and invasion of our personal sexual space... they hear what Donald Trump said and they think to themselves " That's exactly the kind of environment that created my perpetrator".
I want to clarify something. All those many many years ago, the perception was that I was lying... that I had to be lying... because him grabbing my breasts had to be an indicator that he liked me and found me attractive, and I was not an attractive little girl, so clearly I was a liar. This would be the perception of someone with a healthy sexual attitude... but it is a myth, and it is the reason that sexual assault is about power and not about physical attraction. I never felt like this kid 'liked' me. I never felt that this was about other than something very simple. He wanted to touch a girls body. I was a girl. Any girl would have done... I was an easy mark. He felt like he was entitled to touch me even if I didn't want him to. Somewhere along the line, something told him that was his right, and that my rights not to be touched didn't matter.
Painting me as a liar was easy for him, and really made it simple for him to do what he wanted and move on.
But when I think about the difficult part, what really stand out to me was the fact that I had to watch him move in with his life with everyone around him allowing it. He would continue to get praise when he did something right. He would get parts in school productions, get recognition for achievements and I would have to just have to move on with my life, watching as what he did to me wasn't a part of those decision making processes.
So, when my daughter tells me that she doesn't understand, I understand that feeling.
That same day, I watched as what little defense was available for Donald Trumps graphic words about women and how he is allowed to treat them, and I wasn't shocked by what his defenders said.
"It was 11 years ago".
" It's words, not actions".
And in my mind, the rule has become that a person who participates in inappropriate sexual abuses toward another is given much more latitude than those who are victimized. Because I can tell you for sure that here I sit... 25 years later... and I'm sure that boy has not thought about me or what he did to me in those years. But I have. Many many many times. I have thoughts like " I have a girl... I wonder if he had kids and if he has a 13 year old daughter and how he would feel if someone did that to his little girl." And, I'll admit it... I found him online. I've only looked once. He appears to moved on to a life that is both middle-class and unremarkable. Part of me thought I might find someone with a history of sexual abuse.. that I was witness to the start of the monster he would become. But, alas, that is not the case. In his middle-of-the-road career, nobody ever asked him about that time when he tried to feel up a protesting little girl while having her backed up against a corner and the subsequent campaign to discredit her to her peers. They don't care. He doesn't care. I can assure you that I still care.
When I hear those words and the response, which aligns itself well with the 'boys will be boys' mentality... things like 'locker room talk'.... and I wonder about what kind of 'locker room talk' led to that moment in the corner of my apartment. I become disheartened. I don't want this for my little girl; A social mentality that the objectification of women and their bodies and the public perception that a woman's body parts are someone else's to be taken, instead of hers to provide. And worse, that people who say those things are allowed to be forgiven and that we should all just move on from it. This DEFINES rape culture. It is a society that tells us that talk doesn't matter and that actions don't matter if they can't be absolutely proven, and that the burden of that proof rests on a victim and not on the perpetrator... especially when it comes to matters like a woman's right to not be groped. It is a society that tells us that time has passed and we should just get over it.
And it's the fact that time does pass and when you are victimized like that, the world ' getting over it' sometimes hurts more than the act itself. The fact that the playing field is that leveled hurts. He shouldn't have equal opportunity. He shouldn't get a participation award. The bar for unforgivable actions and words should change.
So, when I mesh all of these thoughts together, this is what I come to: We will be told that Donald Trump's words don't matter because they weren't actions. And actions are the indicators of a sexual predator, not words. But women who have been sexually abused in some manner know that those words drift into the ears of little boys who don't understand those lines, and what they hear is a reinforcement that what they want, they should take. I wouldn't say that what Donald Trump said makes him a sexual predator.... but I can tell you that it defines what we mean when we say 'rape culture', in that a woman's body parts are available for the taking regardless of the intent. I will tell you that the idea that objectification like this is exactly why women are painted as liars. You tell men and boys that women's bodies are for their use, and then when they take them and abuse them, you play it off like 'well that was just talk', and people with healthy sexual attitudes don't understand that for some people with unhealthy sexual attitudes, it's not about attraction... it's about power, and they don't believe a victim because in their minds, it wouldn't happen any other way.
Donald Trump's words from 11 years ago matter today to victims of sexual assault know that there isn't a timeline when it becomes okay... just like my daughter knows that the kid who pushed her to the ground last week didn't deserve any kind of recognition yesterday. Because in the harsh light of reality, words and actions have far greater consequences than most people realize, and the standard of forgiveness with the passage of time echos in the ears of victims far longer than any of us should be comfortable with.
Wednesday, August 17, 2016
Progress Pics ( What does 8 months of weight loss look like!?!)
June, 2015
Dec, 2015
Jan. 2016
Feb., 2016
July 2015
Basic Before and After
102 lbs gone in 8 months.
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