I am speechless right now. The only indicator of the true depth of my disappointment and fury is the knot I have growing in my stomach.
http://www.buzzfeed.com/mjs538/these-are-the-people-who-are-happy-amendment-one-p
This link will take you to a page where a site has compiled the Facebook statuses of individuals in praise of the outcome of yesterday's Amendment 1 vote in North Carolina. I read every single one of them. And here I sit literally unsure of where to begin because I have so much to say on the subject.
I am a straight, white, Christian woman who went to over twelve years of Catholic school. I learned that abortion was wrong probably before I learned how to write and spell my name, and was constantly reminded of "right" and "wrong" and how God would want me to live my life. In some ways, I have done a good job in that department; in other ways, I have failed miserably. Over and Over again. I am an imperfect person who has sinned everyday in my past and will continue to sin everyday in my future. This is as true of me as it is of every other human being walking this earth.
The majority of the statuses I read on that website made mention of the action of homosexuality being a sin and even one lesser hateful individual said that, "God loves the sinner but hates the sin." Well, then, is that not true of each and every one of us who lies, cheats, steals, covets our neighbor's wife or TV, curses, misses church and puts other things in our lives ahead of God? Where are the laws that are getting passed (or being voted out) that prohibit the proposed behavior of the sinner? Because it is God's way? Or is or is not mentioned in the bible?
By that logic, it is fair to say that God may love a murdered, but hates murder; why are guns legal? God loves his children, but just about any Christian denomination would argue that he does not like divorce; why is divorce legal? Does the bible not say turn the other cheek? Does the bible not say, "Thou shall not kill?" Yet states in this union EXECUTE their imprisoned and fetuses are ripped from their mother's wombs, yet where is everyone decrying the existences of those institutions in accordance with biblical teaching? No one is, not really. Because arguments against gay marriage are self serving, ridiculously prostrated by God and possibly the most close-minded concept since "separate but equal".
At the end of the day, how does someone else's differing life choices devalue your own? They don't unless you let them. I don't agree with Scientology; I think the entire "religion" and those that blindly follow it are absurd. However, their loyalty to their faith does not undermine that of my own to my religion. Or lack thereof. Their blind allegiance does not infringe on my life or my values. To each their own; that is their business.
How do to members of the same sex pledging love, life and a commitment to each other take away from your heterosexual union? HOW? You can use the bible as a shield and God as an excuse, but no one has yet offered a legitimate answer to that question.
This country is so quick to look at the lives and value systems of people in other countries and determine that their way of life is wrong or unjust. And in all of those situations, various segments of society are being persecuted in one way or another. In the middle east, women are second class citizens and in the Sudan, an entire civilization is being wiped out. And while Americans here at home haven't taken to the streets with guns and bombs to eradicate homosexuality, their refusal to bestow upon those members of society the same civil rights all other citizens of this country behold comes from the exact same sentiment-- their belief that these people are unworthy and undeserving of such inalienable rights.
Forgive me, but does the bible also not say that we are all God's children? And that ultimate judgement of a person comes from the Father himself? Why is it we can deny a gay man or woman's right to marriage as an infringement on morality, yet manage to violate that same ideology while doing it?
All I can think of, because I think it is pretty obvious to this point that I DO NOT get this hatred and judgemental argument, is that these people that blindly vote to support a prejudicial law and blatant civil rights violation, do not know a gay man or woman. Have not seen a gay man or woman in a loving, committed relationship. I would like to believe that their ignorance comes from not actually knowing any men or women who are affected by these laws.
Because I do. And I know a lot of them. A man I respect up there with some of the best teachers and professors I have ever had is a proudly open gay man. He taught me how to have an open mind, bestow unwavering acceptance and always operate with an awareness of how words and actions can suggest something to others you might not really mean. From him, I became a better person. From him, I learned how to love greater. To him, I am eternally grateful.
And this man loves someone who he can't make a lifelong commitment to. And not because he doesn't want to; because he can't. Denying them this right is akin to denying them a right to drive. What if you were not allowed to drive because your fellow citizens voted that you, because you disagree with the bible, don't deserve the right to drive. Sound absurd?
Exactly.
And seriously, Adam and Steve? It's not funny now, it wasn't funny then and really, it the most over-played, not funny, homophobic epithet I've ever heard. If you insist on being a judgemental prick, at least get some better material.
Wednesday, May 9, 2012
Friday, March 16, 2012
Drama
I'm sure we have all had those moments in life where we have come across pivotal advice. For me, the nugget I always go back to came to me when I was a senior in high school.
My only sibling- my sister- was a sophomore in college when I was 17. She had enrolled and started at Texas Tech University when I was 16 years old and a junior in high school. By the time I was a senior, I was used to her being away and being the sole focus of both of my parents day in and day out.
My senior year, I was president of the student body, secretary of the BLHS choir, caption of the Mock Trial team, a trainer for the softball team and a member of the INTERACT club and committee. Obviously, I was busy and, arguably, over committed.
I had had an incident-- the details of which I still remember to this day- and I called my sister. A club similar to StuCo and one that was supposed to be a "sister" committee had started some drama at BL and my Student Council moderator was on my case about the fall out.
It was as if Sandra Bullock were hosting a dinner party at Tao- and Lindsay Lohan showed up wearing the same dress-- but was pissed, after the fact that Lindsay showed, and Sandra made mention of the wardrobe faux pas and it caused an uproar.
That is the best way to describe the issue. Point being, it was incredibly superficial, but it started drama with the inferior club at my high school, and I, as the main representative of my organization, had to address this seemingly frivolous issue with diplomacy and tact when I felt it was nonsense to begin with. Add adult pressure on top of it, and I was unnerved.
So, I called my sister. And she was inexplicably patient. She heard my entire spiel about the affair- from start to finish- and never interrupted. She listened to my subsequent complaints about all of it and when I finally shut up, I said, "what do you think?"
And this is when she gave me some of the best advice I have ever gotten. She said, "Lindsey, in 5 years, do you think this will matter?"
Well, duh, that answer was hands-down unequivocally, NO. And I said that as much to her. To which she responded, "I wish I had the problems now, in college, that I did in high school. You will get to a point, that you will wish for high school problems, because college problems an beyond are much more important and difficult."
At the time, I didn't get it and our conversation ended abruptly. But, it was not too long after that conversation that I understood exactly what she meant.
I am far out of college now- both undergrad and graduate school, and I still wish for "high school" or even "college" problems here and now...in retrospect to what I am dealing with.
And why this is all relevant-- I was put in a networking position this evening, and was asked to identify possible colleagues from a pool of individuals I might know. The primordial understanding being that some of these people had been asked the same question, and it was clear that the presence of my name indicated directly whether or not they wanted to acknowledge me as an acquaintance, and I could tell from some of the names still available, that my name had come up and been surpassed...and I can directly pinpoint why, now, for reasons that are as a result of college drama.
And when that realization hit me, my first flash of memory came back to my sister and her wise words: "I wish I had the problems now that you do in high school."
Because the "problems" in question I think back to from college, may as well be from a Sweet Valley Twins novel from high school. The setting may be dissimilar, but the tenets are all the same. The drama I experienced in college is similar to the same crap I dealt with in high school: superficial, heresy, and immaterial to life itself.
And essentially what it made me realize, is that, I truly do wish I had the problems I did in high school. And beyond that, I wish I had the problems I did in college. To be honest, I am absolutely FLOORED that now, at 25- almost 26- years of age, am STILL answering tho situations that have passed over 3-4 years ago. When you decide to take a real job, move to a specific city, take a WIFE (or a husband) and set your sights on procreating, where is the place in your life for holding on to the past?
I don't get it.
We all graduated from high school 6 years ago, and college 4 years ago. When are you adult enough to let the past be the past? Mistakes be nothing more than that? And wishes nothing more than conversation meant for dreams? When do you choose to leave drama where it belongs? In the past?
You would think.
My only sibling- my sister- was a sophomore in college when I was 17. She had enrolled and started at Texas Tech University when I was 16 years old and a junior in high school. By the time I was a senior, I was used to her being away and being the sole focus of both of my parents day in and day out.
My senior year, I was president of the student body, secretary of the BLHS choir, caption of the Mock Trial team, a trainer for the softball team and a member of the INTERACT club and committee. Obviously, I was busy and, arguably, over committed.
I had had an incident-- the details of which I still remember to this day- and I called my sister. A club similar to StuCo and one that was supposed to be a "sister" committee had started some drama at BL and my Student Council moderator was on my case about the fall out.
It was as if Sandra Bullock were hosting a dinner party at Tao- and Lindsay Lohan showed up wearing the same dress-- but was pissed, after the fact that Lindsay showed, and Sandra made mention of the wardrobe faux pas and it caused an uproar.
That is the best way to describe the issue. Point being, it was incredibly superficial, but it started drama with the inferior club at my high school, and I, as the main representative of my organization, had to address this seemingly frivolous issue with diplomacy and tact when I felt it was nonsense to begin with. Add adult pressure on top of it, and I was unnerved.
So, I called my sister. And she was inexplicably patient. She heard my entire spiel about the affair- from start to finish- and never interrupted. She listened to my subsequent complaints about all of it and when I finally shut up, I said, "what do you think?"
And this is when she gave me some of the best advice I have ever gotten. She said, "Lindsey, in 5 years, do you think this will matter?"
Well, duh, that answer was hands-down unequivocally, NO. And I said that as much to her. To which she responded, "I wish I had the problems now, in college, that I did in high school. You will get to a point, that you will wish for high school problems, because college problems an beyond are much more important and difficult."
At the time, I didn't get it and our conversation ended abruptly. But, it was not too long after that conversation that I understood exactly what she meant.
I am far out of college now- both undergrad and graduate school, and I still wish for "high school" or even "college" problems here and now...in retrospect to what I am dealing with.
And why this is all relevant-- I was put in a networking position this evening, and was asked to identify possible colleagues from a pool of individuals I might know. The primordial understanding being that some of these people had been asked the same question, and it was clear that the presence of my name indicated directly whether or not they wanted to acknowledge me as an acquaintance, and I could tell from some of the names still available, that my name had come up and been surpassed...and I can directly pinpoint why, now, for reasons that are as a result of college drama.
And when that realization hit me, my first flash of memory came back to my sister and her wise words: "I wish I had the problems now that you do in high school."
Because the "problems" in question I think back to from college, may as well be from a Sweet Valley Twins novel from high school. The setting may be dissimilar, but the tenets are all the same. The drama I experienced in college is similar to the same crap I dealt with in high school: superficial, heresy, and immaterial to life itself.
And essentially what it made me realize, is that, I truly do wish I had the problems I did in high school. And beyond that, I wish I had the problems I did in college. To be honest, I am absolutely FLOORED that now, at 25- almost 26- years of age, am STILL answering tho situations that have passed over 3-4 years ago. When you decide to take a real job, move to a specific city, take a WIFE (or a husband) and set your sights on procreating, where is the place in your life for holding on to the past?
I don't get it.
We all graduated from high school 6 years ago, and college 4 years ago. When are you adult enough to let the past be the past? Mistakes be nothing more than that? And wishes nothing more than conversation meant for dreams? When do you choose to leave drama where it belongs? In the past?
You would think.
Thursday, March 8, 2012
Pissy Pants Nancy's
I am highly annoyed. Nay, angered. Actually, more disappointed? I am not sure actually which one of those is my current dominant emotion, but the mix of all there has incited a HUGE desire for me to smack someone across the face.
Truth: The world we live in is a crap shoot. People lie, people steal, people cheat and people kill. They do it here, they do it there, and it happens in every age group spanning from the adolescent to the elderly. There I said it. I ACKNOWLEDGE that there are bad things and bad people out there. A healthy amount (key word being HEALTHY) of skepticism in this world is a good thing; I am not suggesting that it is heartless or unfair because, like I said, there are bad things and bad people in this world.
HOWEVER, when it gets to a point that you cannot seem to take ANYTHING ANYONE DOES and see the value and the legitimacy to it WITHOUT feeling compelled to tear it a part, you have a problem. That is NOT healthy skepticism. I don't know what the intelligent word for that is. Negativity is too benign and assholery is not a word.
I don't give a shit if you knew about or cared about the children of Uganda before yesterday. I don't care if you have other issues you think are more important or think the U.S. needs to focus on fixing it's own problems before trying to solve everyone else's. That fine. Having a different OPINION about these things is completely acceptable. This is, of course, America, and you are entitled to your own opinion. And unfortunately for me and everyone else with a Facebook and Twitter account, I am subjected to your one-sided, ill-informed and overly controverted rants on a daily basis.
Here is what I don't understand:
When someone takes up a cause that really is unequivocally something that is right and good, why do people feel it necessary to go OUT OF THEIR WAY to tear it apart? And if they can't find flagrant mistruths or propaganda, revert to overly questioning and underminding an individual's motives? AND THEN, proceed to make flip statements that what this person wants to do is wrong, unintelligible, or misguided.
WHO THE HELL ARE YOU??
To reiterate, I good sense of healthy skipticism is not a bad thing, but being a bully is. The man behind Kony 2012 is a man who did work in Africa who gained FIRSTHAND KNOWLEDGE of what was going on...and he tried to do something about it. Then he had a son. He became a parent. He received a wonderful gift that gave him unimaginable understanding of how devestating the situation in Uganda is. So his work became his life's mission and he wants to do something to help those children because he cannot imagine his own son meeting that same fate.
And all a bunch of whiney, pissant individuals want to tear him apart like he is Adolf Hitler and is promoting the tenets of the Third Reich. Going as far as to say that all of the people he has reached that DO want to do something about it now, have no RIGHT to care because they can't pick Uganda off of a map.
Well, to you I say: get your eyes and your ears checked, my friend. This man's mission isn't about geography, it's about right and wrong. It's about human DECENCY. This man wants to give these children a life and a chance to enjoy the same freedom AND maybe even some day, the same anonymity you have sitting on your mom's couch in your underwear posulatiing on how astupid everyone else in this world is. Any human being (SUCH AS YOURSELF, may I remind you) that had the luxury and great fortune to be born into a world where they didn't have to worry about being raped, forced into a military before the age of 10, or watched their parents or siblings murdered right in front of them, SHOULD CARE about those that do not have the same fortune. And that is ALL this man is trying to do.
And you sit there and pick him apart like his mission is a lie and he is a monster. Today, I do not understand YOU. If I am some giant, collosal moron for deciding to donate to and care about this very worthwhile cause because I was insipired by one man's passion and bravery, then feel free to call my village and report that they have a new idiot in town.
Truth: The world we live in is a crap shoot. People lie, people steal, people cheat and people kill. They do it here, they do it there, and it happens in every age group spanning from the adolescent to the elderly. There I said it. I ACKNOWLEDGE that there are bad things and bad people out there. A healthy amount (key word being HEALTHY) of skepticism in this world is a good thing; I am not suggesting that it is heartless or unfair because, like I said, there are bad things and bad people in this world.
HOWEVER, when it gets to a point that you cannot seem to take ANYTHING ANYONE DOES and see the value and the legitimacy to it WITHOUT feeling compelled to tear it a part, you have a problem. That is NOT healthy skepticism. I don't know what the intelligent word for that is. Negativity is too benign and assholery is not a word.
I don't give a shit if you knew about or cared about the children of Uganda before yesterday. I don't care if you have other issues you think are more important or think the U.S. needs to focus on fixing it's own problems before trying to solve everyone else's. That fine. Having a different OPINION about these things is completely acceptable. This is, of course, America, and you are entitled to your own opinion. And unfortunately for me and everyone else with a Facebook and Twitter account, I am subjected to your one-sided, ill-informed and overly controverted rants on a daily basis.
Here is what I don't understand:
When someone takes up a cause that really is unequivocally something that is right and good, why do people feel it necessary to go OUT OF THEIR WAY to tear it apart? And if they can't find flagrant mistruths or propaganda, revert to overly questioning and underminding an individual's motives? AND THEN, proceed to make flip statements that what this person wants to do is wrong, unintelligible, or misguided.
WHO THE HELL ARE YOU??
To reiterate, I good sense of healthy skipticism is not a bad thing, but being a bully is. The man behind Kony 2012 is a man who did work in Africa who gained FIRSTHAND KNOWLEDGE of what was going on...and he tried to do something about it. Then he had a son. He became a parent. He received a wonderful gift that gave him unimaginable understanding of how devestating the situation in Uganda is. So his work became his life's mission and he wants to do something to help those children because he cannot imagine his own son meeting that same fate.
And all a bunch of whiney, pissant individuals want to tear him apart like he is Adolf Hitler and is promoting the tenets of the Third Reich. Going as far as to say that all of the people he has reached that DO want to do something about it now, have no RIGHT to care because they can't pick Uganda off of a map.
Well, to you I say: get your eyes and your ears checked, my friend. This man's mission isn't about geography, it's about right and wrong. It's about human DECENCY. This man wants to give these children a life and a chance to enjoy the same freedom AND maybe even some day, the same anonymity you have sitting on your mom's couch in your underwear posulatiing on how astupid everyone else in this world is. Any human being (SUCH AS YOURSELF, may I remind you) that had the luxury and great fortune to be born into a world where they didn't have to worry about being raped, forced into a military before the age of 10, or watched their parents or siblings murdered right in front of them, SHOULD CARE about those that do not have the same fortune. And that is ALL this man is trying to do.
And you sit there and pick him apart like his mission is a lie and he is a monster. Today, I do not understand YOU. If I am some giant, collosal moron for deciding to donate to and care about this very worthwhile cause because I was insipired by one man's passion and bravery, then feel free to call my village and report that they have a new idiot in town.
Monday, March 5, 2012
The Past
I don't know if it is because I am a girl, overly analytical, or a deeply emotional individual, but I am constantly introspective about my past. Whenever I move on to a new chapter in my life, I feel compelled to trace back through the years that have preceded it and marvel at how everything has catalyzed my presence in a new reality. Usually the self talk goes like this:
"If ________ hadn't happened, then I wouldn't have decided to _________, and then because of that, ________wouldn't have happened, which would not have put me in this job to have this conversation with this individual who suggested I try ________, which had I not considered, I wouldn't be doing ________."
And so on and so forth. Interchange the situations in the blanks, and by that rationale, it is easily explained how I have reached certain moments in my life. Most days, that thought process is healthy. I can wade through my successes and failures and see how they all worked interdependently to bring me exactly to where I am supposed to be.
And I consider that it is, "where I am supposed to be," because I have evolved positively within and without each situation I have found myself in. Be it my undergrad, my masters, or my post graduate school existence, whether I was pleased with my life or not, I know that where I am now is an improvement on where I came from. Essentially, I feel like the progression of my life has been natural and positive; I have no misgivings or second thoughts about that whatsoever. It is unmistakable to me that everything that has happened to me has had a greater purpose that has led me to the precise spot in which I find myself. I am as sure about that as I am my name and address.
And that's what I guess I don't really understand. I logically know that where I am is the best place I can be. And where, ultimately, I should be. And I am happy. I still do, however, have realistic (and very unrealistic) aspirations hanging over my head; that's human nature. If you aren't aspiring to something better, you're not living, right?
But when I table my desire to uproot my boyfriend, family, and everyone I would like to see on a regular basis and move to Paris, and take a panoramic view of my life, I am fulfilled. If you would have asked me five years ago if I'd be here, I'd have laughed at you. And as improbable as it might have seemed then, it makes perfect sense to me now.
However, I still have emotional ties to my past that I cannot seem to shake. And I don't get that.
If I were still involved with the individuals and situations from my past, I wouldn't be here in this place and in this lifestyle that I do feel at home in. I think back to the first relationship I was ever in. It was far from conventional and very much unlike any relationship I have ever been in since. And when it was ripped from me, I felt like I was torn in half. I spent years trying to feel whole again. That was not an ending I ever foresaw or wanted. And it hit me today as I was driving home, "what if that had never happened? what if it had never ended?" I know without a doubt I would not be here, close to my family, doing a job I love and sharing my life with the person I am. It is hard for me to even imagine what life I would have had that relationship never ended. And when I think about that possibility, I almost laugh, because I know it wasn't for me. Not just because it ended, but because I can logically presume what my life would be like if that relationship had not ended, and that potential life is not one I want. It wasn't then and it sure as hell isn't now.
Skip ahead five years; different relationship, different situation, same ending. And what is different about this particular situation is that, unlike the relationship that preceded it, I know in my heart and in my head, this ending was not only inevitable, but ultimately, the best thing for me. I didn't experience the heartbreak I did back when I was 19 because I always knew that this relationship was temporary. And even though in moments of insecurity disguised as hope (but more ignorance), I thought it could be more, I logically ALWAYS knew there was an expiration date on the entire situation. What bothered me the most about it after the fact, and if I am honest with myself still to this day, is that it happened in a way that I don't think was fair or did any justice to the way I felt at the time or how much of myself I invested in the relationship. I may have known it wouldn't last forever, but that never prevented me from holding back. I gave all of myself to that relationship every single day, and in the end, that is what hurt the most. Because when it ended, that was never acknowledged.
But just like before, I ponder what my life would be like if it had not ended, and I almost shudder. What I am and have now is so much more than what I ever thought I would have or deserve, and imagining staying in that situation then (even if it was my choice) is as preposterous to me as the world ending in December.
But even still, I look back now at all of these emotional scars and am perplexed by the fact that even though I know this is where I am supposed to be, I still care about the past. It's not every day, or even every month; but it is still there, lingering somewhere in my subconscious, that I gave so much of myself to certain people who threw it away like it was nothing, when it was anything but, to me.
How do you really put the past in the past? How do you really understand that heartbreak and disappointment mold who you are as much as success and happiness? Not just understand it, but find comfort in knowing that those mysteries are just...what they are, and find comfort in it? How do you move on from who you were with no closure, and find comfort in where you stand now without answers? Or any hope you will ever receive them?
If you understand it, than you are light years ahead of me.
"If ________ hadn't happened, then I wouldn't have decided to _________, and then because of that, ________wouldn't have happened, which would not have put me in this job to have this conversation with this individual who suggested I try ________, which had I not considered, I wouldn't be doing ________."
And so on and so forth. Interchange the situations in the blanks, and by that rationale, it is easily explained how I have reached certain moments in my life. Most days, that thought process is healthy. I can wade through my successes and failures and see how they all worked interdependently to bring me exactly to where I am supposed to be.
And I consider that it is, "where I am supposed to be," because I have evolved positively within and without each situation I have found myself in. Be it my undergrad, my masters, or my post graduate school existence, whether I was pleased with my life or not, I know that where I am now is an improvement on where I came from. Essentially, I feel like the progression of my life has been natural and positive; I have no misgivings or second thoughts about that whatsoever. It is unmistakable to me that everything that has happened to me has had a greater purpose that has led me to the precise spot in which I find myself. I am as sure about that as I am my name and address.
And that's what I guess I don't really understand. I logically know that where I am is the best place I can be. And where, ultimately, I should be. And I am happy. I still do, however, have realistic (and very unrealistic) aspirations hanging over my head; that's human nature. If you aren't aspiring to something better, you're not living, right?
But when I table my desire to uproot my boyfriend, family, and everyone I would like to see on a regular basis and move to Paris, and take a panoramic view of my life, I am fulfilled. If you would have asked me five years ago if I'd be here, I'd have laughed at you. And as improbable as it might have seemed then, it makes perfect sense to me now.
However, I still have emotional ties to my past that I cannot seem to shake. And I don't get that.
If I were still involved with the individuals and situations from my past, I wouldn't be here in this place and in this lifestyle that I do feel at home in. I think back to the first relationship I was ever in. It was far from conventional and very much unlike any relationship I have ever been in since. And when it was ripped from me, I felt like I was torn in half. I spent years trying to feel whole again. That was not an ending I ever foresaw or wanted. And it hit me today as I was driving home, "what if that had never happened? what if it had never ended?" I know without a doubt I would not be here, close to my family, doing a job I love and sharing my life with the person I am. It is hard for me to even imagine what life I would have had that relationship never ended. And when I think about that possibility, I almost laugh, because I know it wasn't for me. Not just because it ended, but because I can logically presume what my life would be like if that relationship had not ended, and that potential life is not one I want. It wasn't then and it sure as hell isn't now.
Skip ahead five years; different relationship, different situation, same ending. And what is different about this particular situation is that, unlike the relationship that preceded it, I know in my heart and in my head, this ending was not only inevitable, but ultimately, the best thing for me. I didn't experience the heartbreak I did back when I was 19 because I always knew that this relationship was temporary. And even though in moments of insecurity disguised as hope (but more ignorance), I thought it could be more, I logically ALWAYS knew there was an expiration date on the entire situation. What bothered me the most about it after the fact, and if I am honest with myself still to this day, is that it happened in a way that I don't think was fair or did any justice to the way I felt at the time or how much of myself I invested in the relationship. I may have known it wouldn't last forever, but that never prevented me from holding back. I gave all of myself to that relationship every single day, and in the end, that is what hurt the most. Because when it ended, that was never acknowledged.
But just like before, I ponder what my life would be like if it had not ended, and I almost shudder. What I am and have now is so much more than what I ever thought I would have or deserve, and imagining staying in that situation then (even if it was my choice) is as preposterous to me as the world ending in December.
But even still, I look back now at all of these emotional scars and am perplexed by the fact that even though I know this is where I am supposed to be, I still care about the past. It's not every day, or even every month; but it is still there, lingering somewhere in my subconscious, that I gave so much of myself to certain people who threw it away like it was nothing, when it was anything but, to me.
How do you really put the past in the past? How do you really understand that heartbreak and disappointment mold who you are as much as success and happiness? Not just understand it, but find comfort in knowing that those mysteries are just...what they are, and find comfort in it? How do you move on from who you were with no closure, and find comfort in where you stand now without answers? Or any hope you will ever receive them?
If you understand it, than you are light years ahead of me.
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
Shaking my head...
If it's possible-- in a post where I am hoping to lament the demise of the written word, I am almost at a loss of it entirely... yet, I digress.
We live in a world of instant gratification. Everything from news to entertainment has to be here, now and fast to be worthy; if it takes any amount of time over a couple of minutes, it is usually, pretty obsolete. As a result, communication standards have bowed to this trend. When we, as a society, decide to participate or respond to anything that comes our way, we feel inclined to do it in the quickest way possible. As a result, 'lol', 'g2g', 'nvm' and the likeness have replaced the long form sentiments they represent. I get it. That's the world we live in.
Moreover, should you be an avid participator in the Twittersphere, you are even more constricted to expression limitations. Every space, punctuation mark, or letter takes up precious space in a 140-character text box. So, as a result, abbreviations of common words and phrases are commonly relied upon to fulfill complete thoughts. Still, I get it.
Because, ultimately, these shortened words and phrases seek to succinctly express thoughts and feelings that may be too lengthy in a long-form relation. However, mediums such as Facebook (with no character limitation) or text messaging (which are limitless, even if they are limited per each individual message), abbreviated thoughts or feeling are not necessary.
So, in a lengthy and roundabout way, I am getting at the fact that I do NOT understand why certain individuals feel inclined to preface messages without constricted character limits with "smh".
First of all, if you craft a message correctly, incredulity is obvious. Secondly, "smh" is easily expressed by stating, "what I don't get" or "I am baffled by" or even, "what the fuck is that about", without description of physical movement being necessary whatsoever...especially by abbreviation. Secondly, if we are conversing in a medium without restriction, why do you feel inclined to abbreviate certain notions when the majority of you other sentiments are spelled out in their entirety?
I am forthright in the belief that, even if technologies exist that make it faster or easier, I am going to use the written word in the way in which it was intended. Especially in instances where there is no explicable reason to cut your thoughts short. Because ultimately, when you choose subjectivity, you choose to leave yourself up to interpretation. And for me, that is a dangerous concept. If I have learned anything as a writer, its that when you seek to derive certain thoughts, emotions or feeling, you spell it out specifically; otherwise, the effort is wasted.
So do me a favor-- take a moment to write out, to the letter, how you feel. Don't leave your thoughts and feelings up to individual comprehension; say it loud and say it proud. If you think your girlfriend is idiotic for expecting her abusive boyfriend to eradicate his behavior because she got pregnant unexpectedly, say to her, "i am literally dumbfounded by your logic," rather than dumbing it down to, "smh." Because, at the end of the day, we are all better served by the whole truth, and not its abbreviations.
We live in a world of instant gratification. Everything from news to entertainment has to be here, now and fast to be worthy; if it takes any amount of time over a couple of minutes, it is usually, pretty obsolete. As a result, communication standards have bowed to this trend. When we, as a society, decide to participate or respond to anything that comes our way, we feel inclined to do it in the quickest way possible. As a result, 'lol', 'g2g', 'nvm' and the likeness have replaced the long form sentiments they represent. I get it. That's the world we live in.
Moreover, should you be an avid participator in the Twittersphere, you are even more constricted to expression limitations. Every space, punctuation mark, or letter takes up precious space in a 140-character text box. So, as a result, abbreviations of common words and phrases are commonly relied upon to fulfill complete thoughts. Still, I get it.
Because, ultimately, these shortened words and phrases seek to succinctly express thoughts and feelings that may be too lengthy in a long-form relation. However, mediums such as Facebook (with no character limitation) or text messaging (which are limitless, even if they are limited per each individual message), abbreviated thoughts or feeling are not necessary.
So, in a lengthy and roundabout way, I am getting at the fact that I do NOT understand why certain individuals feel inclined to preface messages without constricted character limits with "smh".
First of all, if you craft a message correctly, incredulity is obvious. Secondly, "smh" is easily expressed by stating, "what I don't get" or "I am baffled by" or even, "what the fuck is that about", without description of physical movement being necessary whatsoever...especially by abbreviation. Secondly, if we are conversing in a medium without restriction, why do you feel inclined to abbreviate certain notions when the majority of you other sentiments are spelled out in their entirety?
I am forthright in the belief that, even if technologies exist that make it faster or easier, I am going to use the written word in the way in which it was intended. Especially in instances where there is no explicable reason to cut your thoughts short. Because ultimately, when you choose subjectivity, you choose to leave yourself up to interpretation. And for me, that is a dangerous concept. If I have learned anything as a writer, its that when you seek to derive certain thoughts, emotions or feeling, you spell it out specifically; otherwise, the effort is wasted.
So do me a favor-- take a moment to write out, to the letter, how you feel. Don't leave your thoughts and feelings up to individual comprehension; say it loud and say it proud. If you think your girlfriend is idiotic for expecting her abusive boyfriend to eradicate his behavior because she got pregnant unexpectedly, say to her, "i am literally dumbfounded by your logic," rather than dumbing it down to, "smh." Because, at the end of the day, we are all better served by the whole truth, and not its abbreviations.
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
Self Respect...or the lack thereof
I am an imperfect person. That is not an opinion, it is a fact. There are a lot of things I like about myself. I am intelligent, moderately funny, kind, empathetic, and (probably dangerously) forgiving and understanding. However, there are things I don't like about myself. I avoid confrontation at toxic personal sacrifice, I talk to loud and too fast and sometimes (most times) need to do a better job of knowing when to shut-up. I am also not as physically fit or as thin as I'd like to be and am in a constant war with my hair. All of these things considered, when I look in the mirror, I recognize that though I am flawed, there is still a lot about me to love.
Yet, I have bad days, months, hell even years, just like everyone else. I spent the better part of two years in such a horrible state of self-loathing and fear, it took a shrink and a daily dosage of Zoloft to bring me back to life. But even at my lowest and weakest moment, I still knew I was a worthy person deserving of good things in life. At my worse, I am still one of God's children and for that reason alone, am worthy and deserving of love.
And that doesn't just mean love from family, friends, etc.; it also includes love of and from myself. It's funny. I see some of my female students on a daily basis get right up in someone's face if they feel they are being disrespected, yet will dress provocatively and let themselves be objectified by men on a level that makes it completely obvious to everyone but them that they have very little self respect.
Don't get me wrong, this is not an attempt to attack individuals that have low self esteem. We all have it or have struggled with it at some point in time in our lives. And as someone that struggles with a mental illness, because that is what anxiety is, I do not want to suggest that individuals that struggle with this issue on a debilitating level are weak.
And I guess that's what I don't understand. I knew I was having problems and what those problems and my attempt to deal with them on my own were yielding me. And it wasn't good. So I got some help. And I have no problem being transparent about that because I am not ashamed. Getting the help I did was one of the best decisions I have ever made and I thank God for bringing me that relief.
What I don't get is how individuals in situations where they are being put in danger and have a quality of life that in shaky, uncertain, and more a cause of pain (physical, emotional or otherwise) than anything else, will not take the hard steps to do what they need to do to change their circumstances. All I can figure is that they think they are not worthy of something better. That they either aren't worthy of it or aren't capable of ever finding it again. So they settle. They settle for pain, abuse, and a quality of life that is beneath them. And all because of a intrinsic lack of self respect and love for who they are.
Not only do I not get it, but it makes me so incredibly sad. Because at the end of the day, I can take a pill to help me manage my anxiety, but there isn't a pill out there that can help someone manage to love, even when it is just to love them self.
Yet, I have bad days, months, hell even years, just like everyone else. I spent the better part of two years in such a horrible state of self-loathing and fear, it took a shrink and a daily dosage of Zoloft to bring me back to life. But even at my lowest and weakest moment, I still knew I was a worthy person deserving of good things in life. At my worse, I am still one of God's children and for that reason alone, am worthy and deserving of love.
And that doesn't just mean love from family, friends, etc.; it also includes love of and from myself. It's funny. I see some of my female students on a daily basis get right up in someone's face if they feel they are being disrespected, yet will dress provocatively and let themselves be objectified by men on a level that makes it completely obvious to everyone but them that they have very little self respect.
Don't get me wrong, this is not an attempt to attack individuals that have low self esteem. We all have it or have struggled with it at some point in time in our lives. And as someone that struggles with a mental illness, because that is what anxiety is, I do not want to suggest that individuals that struggle with this issue on a debilitating level are weak.
And I guess that's what I don't understand. I knew I was having problems and what those problems and my attempt to deal with them on my own were yielding me. And it wasn't good. So I got some help. And I have no problem being transparent about that because I am not ashamed. Getting the help I did was one of the best decisions I have ever made and I thank God for bringing me that relief.
What I don't get is how individuals in situations where they are being put in danger and have a quality of life that in shaky, uncertain, and more a cause of pain (physical, emotional or otherwise) than anything else, will not take the hard steps to do what they need to do to change their circumstances. All I can figure is that they think they are not worthy of something better. That they either aren't worthy of it or aren't capable of ever finding it again. So they settle. They settle for pain, abuse, and a quality of life that is beneath them. And all because of a intrinsic lack of self respect and love for who they are.
Not only do I not get it, but it makes me so incredibly sad. Because at the end of the day, I can take a pill to help me manage my anxiety, but there isn't a pill out there that can help someone manage to love, even when it is just to love them self.
Friday, February 3, 2012
Pink Football Jersies
There are three things that inspired me to start this blog, and this occurrence is one of those things. I didn't originally intend to strategically include these posts at a specific time, but given that the Super Bowl is Sunday, this seemed an appropriate time as ever to write this entry.
I listen to Kidd Kraddick in the morning. Say what you will about Kidd and the morning show, but I think they're hilarious. Sure, they sometimes digress on topics and bits that are not exactly the most entertaining things I have ever heard, but for the most part, they are more than a decent way to pass the time on my hour-long morning commute. Their philanthropic endeavors alone are enough to warrant attention, but beyond that, their unyielding attention to popular culture and eagerness to make fun of themselves makes them incredibly accessible...at least for me. I will admit, I have been a loyal listener since I was 16.
So, to that end, this morning they were taking bets on the Super Bowl. From what color gatorade would undoubtedly be thrown on the winning coach to the the order in which the winning quarterback (or MVP) would thank the people of interest in his life (arguably, God, Family, teammates, coaches, etc.), they were taking bets on it all. At one point, one of the potential bets was related to how many times networks would pan the luxury boxes for Giselle (Tom Brady's wife), which prompted Jenna (one of the morning show personalities) to inquire, "I wonder if she will be wearing her pink Patriots jersey?"
And that is just a prevalent trend I do NOT understand.
I like sports. I am not a fanatic by any means, and I do not profess to know everything about the sports I watch. I (would like to believe) know more than the average female does about sports, but I want to make sure I acknowledge now that I have not seen nor do I know it all (or even part) about sports as a whole.
HOWEVER, I have been an avid follower of college and professional football since I was 14 years old, and it was not until I was an attendee at the infamous Cowboys/Eagles game at Texas Stadium in '07, that I had any idea one could even purchase a team jersey in baby pink. I was about 6 boxes down from Jessica Simpson (who, at the time, was dating Tony Romo), and was very confused when they showed her through the suite glass in a pink Cowboys jersey.
The Cowboys' colors are blue and white. It could be argued that the specific shade of blue is either navy or royal, but either way, the colors are very definitively blue and white. So surely you can understand my frustration that someone- and it really did not matter who it was- was there supporting the home team in a color very far removed from that of the team as a whole.
So, obviously, this individual, and many others within the stadium that day and in stadiums across the country since, felt they were incapable of showing their team colors at the sacrifice of "femininity" (or whatever that means), and instead, chose to show their support in pink.
THAT IS SO FUCKING STUPID.
Take sports out of it completely. Hundreds of years ago, when various civilizations were fighting wars and risking their lives for liberty or national causes, the entire front was united under a specific color or insignia. England had the Redcoats; the North during the Civil War rocked it in navy and the South in grey; the indians united under war paint and raw hide. Essentially, different sides wore specific uniforms to make themselves distinguishable against their opponent. THIS DID NOT START WITH SPORTS.
So imagine my shock and dismay that someone who cares enough to pay money and show up to witness a battle (of sports or otherwise), is going to show up in a color unassociated with their team or cause FOR NO OTHER VIABLE REASON IN THAT IS IS SUPPOSED TO BE A FEMININE DISPLAY OF SUPPORT.
I'm sorry- is it necessary to distinguish your gender in that instance? Do you think that American nurses and triage attendees during the Revolutionary War wore red because it was a more flattering color? NO. Colors are designated for teams for a reason!
So basically, in a nutshell (though I do apologize for my offshoot rants and musings), it is beyond stupid that professional sports teams feel the need to appeal to a female demographic and manufacture pink fan gear. Moreover, it is inexplicably inane for women that support these teams (or support men that support these teams) to require an option of dress that specifically does not include team colors in some sort of misguided attempt to assert femininity. Athletes on the field are encouraged and reinforced by looking into the stands and seeing blocks of their team colors cheering them to victory; more often than not, their ability to hear is significantly prohibited by their helmet or the exterior noise, and they look for encouragement in a visual way. But you felt like you would look too masculine or not sexy enough by sporting team colors, so you opted for PINK.
I guess it's no wonder Tony and the boys lost that game...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)