I've been thinking a lot lately about who I am. I've had nothing but time to think about it so far this summer, especially when I have to think about myself so much before I go into interviews. My summer has consisted of: applying for jobs, thinking, working out, reading lots of books, crying, being angry at the world, watching TV, and playing video games. All in all, I've actually kept very busy doing those things, but I'm starting to get kind of bored. I need something more meaningful to do. Every day, I feel like I'm on the brink of losing it. So now, I'm going to bare all and talk about who I really, really am: the good and the bad, and who I would really like to be.
I am, and always have been, REALLY sensitive. Ever since I was really young, I was usually pretty good because if I felt badly about doing something, I would cry from the guilt. To this very day, if I know that I've legitimately hurt someone's feelings, I will cry because I would never want to hurt anyone. I've cried at a Hallmark commercial before (You know, the one where there is an older woman who checks her mail every day and never has any, so a young boy sends her a Hallmark card. She is deeply touched by receiving the card.). I frequently want to read and watch TV/movies alone because I will probably cry at some point. I have an ex-boyfriend who, while he was watching me read The Deathly Hallows, kept asking me where I was in the book because he knew when I was going to cry because my favorite character died in the book, and he wanted to make sure he was able to console me (Or laugh. Maybe both.). Embarrassing as it may be, I actually really like this about myself because I know how deeply I feel things and make a true connection. There is an innocence about it. I want to keep being impacted emotionally by the thoughts of others being in pain, because I want my life's work to be about easing the pain and minimizing the struggles of others. I can't do that unless I can truly feel.
Yeah, laugh it up, you unfeeling jerks.
I get angry about silly stuff sometimes. I have some road rage, sure. I'll swear at people after they cut me off or go 15 MPH below the speed limit. I don't think that's rare. I don't want to be angry and depressed about my life right now, but I am. I do well with clear cut disagreements most of the time--if I'm fighting with someone, I'll ask for my space so I don't say something that I'll regret and then revisit the issue after I've had a chance to breathe. However, when people try to make me feel better about my life and my job search by saying cliche things like "It will all work out eventually," I get really angry and tell them to stop trying to make me feel better. I don't think that my wanting to rant or being generally frustrated with my currently unemployed status is invalid, but I shouldn't get angry with people who just want to make me not hate my life. I'm working on it--usually it just includes me keeping my mouth shut and letting my fury pass. I shouldn't be mad at them, I'm just frustrated with my job search, and that's not their fault. I'm also learning the importance of asking people what they want me to do when they're upset, and what would honestly make them feel better (Hopefully they have some sort of idea! Sometimes I'm not sure what I want, either.). I definitely do not want to give unsolicited advice. If someone just wants an ear, I can do that.
More often than I'd like to admit, I don't even really like myself. Most of the time, I feel like there is nothing that I'm really all that good at; for some reason, just being me makes me deficient. I have always felt that I have that whole "jack of all trades, master of none" thing going on. I am really sad about my life right now because almost every day I feel like a failure since I am unemployed with a master's degree, despite having had many interviews; I feel I should be able to rise above that sadness for the benefit of others, and hate it when it doesn't work out that way. I want to get a job that will be fulfilling and allow me to help others and have a small part in making the world a better place, but I know at this point that I may have to settle for something for the time being, and that makes me feel awful. I just always have this feeling of not quite measuring up, and it's not everyone else's job to constantly affirm my worth. I have to learn how to value myself, and I'm not even sure how to go about doing that sometimes.
I am resilient. While I may argue that I have been slightly less resilient as of late, I am trying to use this transitional (or maybe stagnant?) part of my life to learn about myself and grow. I've also gone through a lot of crap in my life, and have been told on more than one occasion that it's a wonder that I turned out as well as I did. When people would say this to me, I would simply think "Life goes on. Whatever. I did what I had to do." But when I really think about it, I honestly do try to use my pain to make me better. Whenever something bad happens, whether I'm optimistic or not, I make a conscious effort to learn something from it. Does that mean I'm completely over every bad thing that's ever happened to me? No. It still sometimes knocks me on my ass when I think about my mom--I dread Mother's Day every year. Even when I'm talking about the good stuff, I usually have to fight back tears. I just miss her. Just last week, I woke up from a dream sobbing uncontrollably because I was having a normal, everyday conversation with my mom in it, and I had never dreamt about her before. And even though it sucks, and always will hurt to think that my mom will be missing from many major milestones in my life (and the mundane), I use that pain to motivate me. I use it to make me better.
All of that being said, I'm doing my best to use this time of unemployment to do something useful. I'm applying for jobs, but I'm trying to make myself better in the meantime. How can I represent myself to the world (and prospective employers) authentically? How can I really begin to like myself most of the time for who I am, flaws and all? I have been unemployed for two months now, and while I'm incredibly bored and feel like I'm ready to move forward, maybe I have needed this time to think about the direction of my life. I haven't slowed down to do that for a long time, even though most of grad school was about reflecting. I spent that time reflecting on things that happened to me in the past, or activities/programming/schoolwork that I had just completed. I didn't think about who I am in the grand scheme of things and where I am going from here. It is definitely a process.
Monday, July 16, 2012
Tuesday, July 3, 2012
50 Shades of Grey: Complicating your sex life?
Is 50 Shades of Grey complicating your sex life or views on sex? No? Well, maybe it should. I will not contest many of the arguments made about the book, such as it being poorly written, some pretty messed up relationship things (like stalking, control issues, and temper issues, among others), the portrayal of the BDSM lifestyle as a result of a tumultuous childhood that must be fixed (by the love of a woman!), the possessiveness Christian has over Anastasia, and the fact that the main character can say anything BUT the correct anatomical names for people's genitalia. However, I will share a perspective I have not seen anyone write about (you know, because it's positive): they had talked about what was and wasn't okay during sex before they even did it. Anastasia researched the things that were on the list of kinks Christian gave her and gave thought to what she would and would not be okay with trying. Christian assured her that he would not do anything she did not want to do, and there was a safe word established (which Anastasia later used, and Christian stopped what he was doing). How many people have these kinds of conversations before they engage in a sexual relationship with someone? I would make the argument that it is probably not nearly enough.
I spent a lot of time thinking about this after reading the series. Regardless of what your opinions are on the books as a whole, looking at the books from a feminist lens got me thinking about the importance of communication as it pertains to gender roles, sex, and consent. If you are sexually active to any degree, do you talk to your partner about what you do or don't like before you engage in any activities? Do you talk about what you enjoy during? Do you discuss new things you've tried afterward, including how they made you feel and why? If you don't, how are you going to know what you or your partner enjoys or what they are okay with? I would argue that not talking openly about what you enjoy is really doing yourself a disservice, and can lead to some problems in the relationship. Some might argue that all that talk will slow things down and make things less sexy. If you don't talk about it, however, not only might you not find sex as enjoyable as it could be, but without an open line of communication there could be some things that your partner does that make you truly uncomfortable. The need to obtain consent doesn't just stop after the first time you have sex with someone, it continues throughout your entire sexual relationship and during every sexual activity in which you engage.
I think that these conversations can be difficult, especially considering the gender roles that permeate society. For men, the role is to be dominant and aggressive. Men are supposed to obtain as much sex as possible by using whatever means necessary. Women are supposed to be compliant and virginal. These roles are oppressive for both men and women, and really complicate sex--making it entirely too difficult to communicate about it openly. While there are many negative things about the 50 Shades of Grey series, I hope that some people saw their (somewhat) open communication about and took it back to their own partner or plan to talk more openly about it when they do choose to engage in any sexual activity. If people open up the lines of communication, there will be more consensual, mutually pleasurable sex on this planet, which can only put us closer to gender equity. And that's okay with me.
I spent a lot of time thinking about this after reading the series. Regardless of what your opinions are on the books as a whole, looking at the books from a feminist lens got me thinking about the importance of communication as it pertains to gender roles, sex, and consent. If you are sexually active to any degree, do you talk to your partner about what you do or don't like before you engage in any activities? Do you talk about what you enjoy during? Do you discuss new things you've tried afterward, including how they made you feel and why? If you don't, how are you going to know what you or your partner enjoys or what they are okay with? I would argue that not talking openly about what you enjoy is really doing yourself a disservice, and can lead to some problems in the relationship. Some might argue that all that talk will slow things down and make things less sexy. If you don't talk about it, however, not only might you not find sex as enjoyable as it could be, but without an open line of communication there could be some things that your partner does that make you truly uncomfortable. The need to obtain consent doesn't just stop after the first time you have sex with someone, it continues throughout your entire sexual relationship and during every sexual activity in which you engage.
I think that these conversations can be difficult, especially considering the gender roles that permeate society. For men, the role is to be dominant and aggressive. Men are supposed to obtain as much sex as possible by using whatever means necessary. Women are supposed to be compliant and virginal. These roles are oppressive for both men and women, and really complicate sex--making it entirely too difficult to communicate about it openly. While there are many negative things about the 50 Shades of Grey series, I hope that some people saw their (somewhat) open communication about and took it back to their own partner or plan to talk more openly about it when they do choose to engage in any sexual activity. If people open up the lines of communication, there will be more consensual, mutually pleasurable sex on this planet, which can only put us closer to gender equity. And that's okay with me.
Monday, July 2, 2012
Why my weight loss is a victory
Minutes after I posted a status this morning about how I am down 7-8 pounds since April, I saw a post on BodyBuilding.com's Facebook page. They do weekly transformations, and this week there was a woman who lost 11 pounds and 5% body fat. Instead of commending her for her victory of losing weight despite a challenge with traveling for her job and being diagnosed with hypothyroidism, many criticized BodyBuilding.com for posting this transformation because she only lost 11 pounds. In a country where there is an obesity epidemic, it apparently only counts as a victory if you are morbidly obese when you lose weight? Whatever. It made me think about my own weight loss journey, and why it is truly kick ass that I have lost any weight at all.
Ever since I was 13 years old, I have struggled on and off with an eating disorder. I can pinpoint the conversation that began my struggle with my body image that began over a year before my disordered eating even manifested. My brother accused me of being fat, and when I tattled on him, my mother suggested that I start paying more attention to what I was eating. Now, before you silently curse my family for being mean, I was overweight and unhealthy at the age of 12.
Only 2 years before, my 10 year-old self had a pretty rockin', muscular bod. I played lots of kickball at recess and PE, I played basketball for the school, I rode my bike around town just for the heck of it, and I had frequent fights with my brother. I was in shape, and then my family moved to Iowa from Missouri and suddenly I ballooned probably 20 pounds over the course of one summer. We lived out of town, I didn't know anyone, I didn't have anything to do, and all my brother and I did while my parents were at work during the day was fight over who got to be on the computer and for how long. My parents moved us again halfway through the school year, and I continued to gain weight. It turns out, when you're a bit chunky in middle school, people are going to make fun of you. Who knew?
We moved yet again in the middle of my 7th grade year to Lone Tree, Iowa. At this time, I was about 5' tall and weighed 128 pounds. In Lone Tree, I was able to get more involved in school because we stuck around for longer than a semester, so I started playing basketball again and became healthier. We finally lived in town, so I could walk the few blocks to school and home. In 8th grade, I also took up track and cheerleading in addition to basketball. My weight leveled out, but I still got made fun of some. Not only was I a little bit overweight, but I also developed curves before my peers, which got me more attention than I wanted. I started to pay more attention to what I was eating at the end of my 8th grade year, skipping breakfast and eating smaller portions at lunch and dinner.
I began to lose weight, and it felt good. I wanted to keep going. During that summer, I knew I could get exercise by being in softball, but it wasn't enough. I had to eat less, and work out more. We had some workout equipment at home, so with a strict workout regimen, I managed at least 2 hours of exercise per day. As I lost more and more weight, I got more and more addicted to the feeling of control. My pants were too big, my breasts were getting smaller, and people were noticing my weight loss. I was (or felt) in control of what was going on with my body. I found excuses not to eat dinner, and I was purging what few calories (probably less than 400 on many days) I did take in through various methods.
I had grown little in height, but lost 20 pounds over the course of a few months. I could see my mother getting scared, and ultimately it got to the point that one night that she would not let me leave the house for fear I was going to purge the small amount of food she had just witnessed me eat. Shortly after, I was made to go to counseling and get on anti-depressants. I also became a bottomless pit and got back to a healthy weight.
I maintained a healthy weight throughout high school, though it fluctuated a few pounds as I continued to struggle through sporadic binge/purge episodes. My weight fluctuated a little bit more during college. The sporadic episodes of disordered eating have continued throughout the years, with the most recent being only a few months ago.
So, you see, I have struggled with my body image and eating for almost half of my life at this point. My weight loss is a victory, though it may not seem like it to some, because I have done it by making lots of small changes. My goal was not to lose weight, but to have a healthier lifestyle through altering my exercise and eating habits in a truly healthy way. So to many, 7-8 pounds may not seem like anything to be proud of, but it is the first time in my entire life I have lost weight in a healthy way. And I feel like I climbed a mountain.
Ever since I was 13 years old, I have struggled on and off with an eating disorder. I can pinpoint the conversation that began my struggle with my body image that began over a year before my disordered eating even manifested. My brother accused me of being fat, and when I tattled on him, my mother suggested that I start paying more attention to what I was eating. Now, before you silently curse my family for being mean, I was overweight and unhealthy at the age of 12.
Only 2 years before, my 10 year-old self had a pretty rockin', muscular bod. I played lots of kickball at recess and PE, I played basketball for the school, I rode my bike around town just for the heck of it, and I had frequent fights with my brother. I was in shape, and then my family moved to Iowa from Missouri and suddenly I ballooned probably 20 pounds over the course of one summer. We lived out of town, I didn't know anyone, I didn't have anything to do, and all my brother and I did while my parents were at work during the day was fight over who got to be on the computer and for how long. My parents moved us again halfway through the school year, and I continued to gain weight. It turns out, when you're a bit chunky in middle school, people are going to make fun of you. Who knew?
We moved yet again in the middle of my 7th grade year to Lone Tree, Iowa. At this time, I was about 5' tall and weighed 128 pounds. In Lone Tree, I was able to get more involved in school because we stuck around for longer than a semester, so I started playing basketball again and became healthier. We finally lived in town, so I could walk the few blocks to school and home. In 8th grade, I also took up track and cheerleading in addition to basketball. My weight leveled out, but I still got made fun of some. Not only was I a little bit overweight, but I also developed curves before my peers, which got me more attention than I wanted. I started to pay more attention to what I was eating at the end of my 8th grade year, skipping breakfast and eating smaller portions at lunch and dinner.
I began to lose weight, and it felt good. I wanted to keep going. During that summer, I knew I could get exercise by being in softball, but it wasn't enough. I had to eat less, and work out more. We had some workout equipment at home, so with a strict workout regimen, I managed at least 2 hours of exercise per day. As I lost more and more weight, I got more and more addicted to the feeling of control. My pants were too big, my breasts were getting smaller, and people were noticing my weight loss. I was (or felt) in control of what was going on with my body. I found excuses not to eat dinner, and I was purging what few calories (probably less than 400 on many days) I did take in through various methods.
I had grown little in height, but lost 20 pounds over the course of a few months. I could see my mother getting scared, and ultimately it got to the point that one night that she would not let me leave the house for fear I was going to purge the small amount of food she had just witnessed me eat. Shortly after, I was made to go to counseling and get on anti-depressants. I also became a bottomless pit and got back to a healthy weight.
I maintained a healthy weight throughout high school, though it fluctuated a few pounds as I continued to struggle through sporadic binge/purge episodes. My weight fluctuated a little bit more during college. The sporadic episodes of disordered eating have continued throughout the years, with the most recent being only a few months ago.
So, you see, I have struggled with my body image and eating for almost half of my life at this point. My weight loss is a victory, though it may not seem like it to some, because I have done it by making lots of small changes. My goal was not to lose weight, but to have a healthier lifestyle through altering my exercise and eating habits in a truly healthy way. So to many, 7-8 pounds may not seem like anything to be proud of, but it is the first time in my entire life I have lost weight in a healthy way. And I feel like I climbed a mountain.
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