tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-59758802343602655972024-03-12T19:25:18.994-05:00Her/StoryAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16400621027250890268noreply@blogger.comBlogger40125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5975880234360265597.post-3958322642191174232015-06-03T16:09:00.000-05:002015-06-04T10:25:25.757-05:00All That Glitters Is Not Gold<div class="MsoNormal">
I was talking to a friend recently and I asked her if she
ever compares herself to other people to determine her own success and she
said, “Yeah, when I look at Facebook.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Maybe it’s because my Facebook feed is filled with people
getting engaged, married, pregnant, or worse, looking like they have life
figured out, that I’ve come to fear that I’m doing nothing and going nowhere. Or
maybe the cards are stacked against us. Maybe Facebook is the embodiment of the
common human experience of fearing that the grass is greener on the
other side. Maybe the people who really have it figured out are the people who
don’t have the time or desire to compare themselves to other people on
Facebook or elsewhere.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Typically, we don’t post things to social media that explain
what a hard time we’re having or that we just had a fight with our partner, our mom, our boss, or our friend. No, we use it to show other people how much we have figured out and
how far we’ve come in life. We got the job, the degree, the ring, the baby – we
got everything we ever wanted.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Those who know me outside of social media know that I have
an honesty complex. I have never figured out how to answer the question, “How’s
it going?” with anything but a thoughtful response about how it’s <i>actually</i> going. “Good” just does not do
it for me because it doesn’t feel authentic. Honesty is one of my core values,
sometimes to a fault. I struggle to even tell white lies because I value the
truth so much. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So that I would create a social media image of myself as
anything other than my entire complete self, struggles included, is ridiculous.
And yet I do it. I do it because I want to pretend my life is perfect just like
everyone else. I want to prove that I’m successful, too. That I cracked life's code. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
So here is my admission. Here is my
truth.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<i>Sometimes I have bad days.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<i>Sometimes I feel like I’m going nowhere
and doing nothing.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<i>Sometimes I get mad at one person
when I’m actually pissed at someone or something else.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<i>Sometimes I get cranky when I’m
hungry, tired, in traffic, or because it’s Tuesday.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<i>Sometimes I’m incredibly lazy.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<i>I start books I don’t finish, but I’m
much better at watching TV shows.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<i>I want things in life I have no idea
how to get. <o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<i>I’m terrified of being wrong.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<i>I want to be liked.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<i>I’m convinced that everyone else has
it figured out and that I’m behind and will never catch up.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Maybe the 20s are just a time when you constantly look
around and wonder, “Is this who I want to be?” “Is this what I want to do?” “Is
this how I want to spend my life?” And with Facebook, we have an all access
pass to other people’s successes. We watch other people get exactly what they
want. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Including the perfect relationship. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Over the weekend someone told my girlfriend, Lisa, and I
that we were super cute together and asked if we ever fight. This got me
thinking about the way we look at other people’s lives. [Now let me just say
that Lisa and I have a loving, fun, sturdy relationship, complete with our fair
share of disagreements. Especially in the kitchen.] We look at other people who
we assume to have what we want and believe it’s perfect. It must be perfect!
Just look at them smile lovingly into each other’s eyes. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And then we look at ourselves, our relationships, our jobs,
our decisions. We see our own truth: that our lives are not perfect. We see our
struggles and our frustrations and we believe on some deep level that other
people have things we don’t have because we see glimpses of their seemingly
perfect lives but we have to live in our own. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Or maybe it’s just me.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
So
the way I see it, I have two options: quit social media or change the game. I’ll
let you know how it turns out.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
Love,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
Kelsey</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
P.S. I’m just gunna leave this here:
http://www.buzzfeed.com/alexlee/my-house-is-always-this-clean#.hpZDGQOZd<o:p></o:p></div>
Kelseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01992373525787394564noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5975880234360265597.post-4761229119290351492015-03-18T20:52:00.000-05:002015-03-18T20:52:47.445-05:00Being Unapolgetically Me<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-DCBSHSQ6SoE/VQonFEZnahI/AAAAAAAADzA/efbzdY7wJ_w/s1600/online-dating-grammar-sex-love-flirting-ecards-someecards.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-DCBSHSQ6SoE/VQonFEZnahI/AAAAAAAADzA/efbzdY7wJ_w/s1600/online-dating-grammar-sex-love-flirting-ecards-someecards.png" height="178" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">For real though.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">For the past couple of months, I’ve
been doing the online dating thing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve
had mostly mixed feelings so far, and am thinking of taking a break from it for
a little while once March is over.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s
not that I have anything against online dating.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I have several friends and family members who met their significant
others that way, and are very happy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve
just never been good at non-face-to-face interactions, so this whole experience
has been way out of my comfort zone, and quite frankly exhausting.</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">My lack of game and smoothness online
is not the point of this post, though.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>As uncomfortable as this process has made me, it has also made me very
aware of a few things about myself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Today in particular, I had a very major epiphany moment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I realized that when interacting with
potential romantic partners, there were some things about myself that I hesitated
to tell them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One of these things,
notably, was my career.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I would
intentionally put off telling the guys I talked to that I was a campus minister.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Why?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>In all honesty, it’s because I didn’t want them to jump to any
conclusions or draw on any stereotypes they might have for that type of job and
apply them to me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was scared of being
judged for doing something I love.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And I
do LOVE my ministry.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I love it and I am
proud of it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I worked hard to get my
degree and find my job, and I was lucky enough to find a position that was
exactly what I wanted to do in the area I wanted to be in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In summary: my career rocks, and anyone who
wants to try and judge me for it can suck it.</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6Ru86eD1hU0/VQooWoRRGtI/AAAAAAAADzM/ABHoGf2huZQ/s1600/the-ups-guy-really-hates-these-packages.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6Ru86eD1hU0/VQooWoRRGtI/AAAAAAAADzM/ABHoGf2huZQ/s1600/the-ups-guy-really-hates-these-packages.jpg" height="254" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">That’s easy to say now, after my
epiphany moment earlier today.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It wasn’t
just my job, though.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There were other,
more personal things and choices I’ve made that I was scared I would be judged
for.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was scared if a guy learned some
of these things, he would bolt and I’d never find love.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’d end up alone, with twelve cats, living in
a cabin in the woods and wearing floral nightgowns everyday (yeah…I’ve thought
pretty carefully about this).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So, to
avoid this fate, I hid things about myself and hoped I could get a guy to fall
for me before he needed to know any of my “secrets.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">That was stupid.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was being so incredibly stupid, and worse
yet, I was chipping away at my self-esteem bit by tiny bit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Self-esteem I’d spent years building up, but that
was still fairly delicate.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It wasn’t
until one particular conversation, where I was dodging questions out of fear of
revealing one of my “secrets” that I realized how totally idiotic I was
being.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have nothing to be ashamed of,
about any of the choices I’ve made, and what’s more, I’m not sorry for any of
them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So why should I be afraid to be totally
honest with the guys I was talking to?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Didn’t
I want to be with someone who accepted me for who I was, what I did, and what I
valued?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Did I really want to be with
someone who <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">didn’t</i> accept me for who
I really was?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Someone I had to change
myself to be with?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">No.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Hell no.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I’d rather be single.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">That’s when the epiphany really
hit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have no reason to hide anything
about myself from anyone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m not ashamed
of myself, I’m not embarrassed by what I do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I’m good at what I do, and I’m proud of who I am.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If a guy is scared off by anything that I
bring to the table, that’s his problem, not mine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Dating in the adult world is hard enough
without pretending to be someone I’m not, or wasting time with people who don’t
actually like me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So, I’m going to keep
at it, but I’m not going to play games.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I’m going to be honest.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m going
to be myself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe I’ll find someone,
maybe I won’t.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However I end up, though,
I’m going to be me, and I’m not going to apologize for it.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Have you ever held part of
yourself back in a relationship because you were afraid of rejection?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Are you lucky enough to have someone who <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">does</i> accept everything about you?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Tell me about it in the comment section below.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The good, the bad…we all have stories to
tell.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Until next time,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Erin B.</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe width="320" height="266" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://ytimg.googleusercontent.com/vi/mpQqRZkto4k/0.jpg" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/mpQqRZkto4k?feature=player_embedded" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Because I like to end on a laugh. P.S. if anyone throws any of these your way, online or in person, RUN!</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10065741913721435892noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5975880234360265597.post-5308267772843358262015-02-22T10:54:00.001-06:002015-02-22T11:01:59.179-06:0050 Shades of No<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qdbRh3-hVC0/VOkysAnKnpI/AAAAAAAALGQ/dAUZai4N4b8/s1600/1415961816405_wps_10_FIFTY_SHADES_OF_GREY_INTE.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qdbRh3-hVC0/VOkysAnKnpI/AAAAAAAALGQ/dAUZai4N4b8/s1600/1415961816405_wps_10_FIFTY_SHADES_OF_GREY_INTE.jpg" height="640" width="432" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>I saw "50 Shades of Grey" with a few law school friends on Thursday night. </b>We were originally supposed to go last Saturday, but one of (it seems like) a zillion winter storms cancelled those plans for us.</span><br />
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>I have not read the books. </b>I thought about reading them for about a millisecond before I heard they were even worse writing than <u>Twilight</u>, which I previously considered the worst books I'd ever read. So I went into the theater with no idea what to expect beyond the basic plot. I had seen articles claiming it promoted abuse, so I was aware of that potential issue, but I decided to go in thinking of the movie as entertainment - that it was probably going to be terrible, but with the intention of giving it a fair shot. After all, many things I love dearly are terrible, like "Say Yes to the Dress" or "Toddlers & Tiaras." I'm only human.</span><br />
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>Here's a play-by-play of my reactions during the movie</b> (SPOILER ALERTS):</span><br />
<ul>
<li><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>Wait, she's supposed to be 21?</i></span></li>
<li><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>OF COURSE SHE DRIVES A BEAT UP VW BUG. HOW QUIRKY.</i></span></li>
<li><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>Never in the history of time has anyone found parking in a major city right outside their destination. I believe that less than a millionaire playboy dominant falling in love with this awkward, faux-mousy, nervous 26-year old pretending to be 21.</i></span></li>
<li><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>I heard "50 Shades" was originally a Twilight fan fiction, and it was never more obvious than when Anastasia trips and falls the minute she opens the door to his office. I guess being clumsy is supposed to be an endearing and universally female quality, which I have never understood.</i></span></li>
<li><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>Dakota Johnson is actually pretty funny and her timing is really good. I am pleasantly surprised.</i></span></li>
<li><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>She bites her lip a lot. I can feel this is going to be reoccurring plot point because they keep zooming in on her lips dramatically.</i></span></li>
<li><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>OF COURSE HE'S ADOPTED. PROBABLY HAS A TRAGIC HISTORY WHICH HAS SCARRED HIM FOR LIFE. SHOCKER. It's like there was a contest for the least subtle plot point imaginable and E.L. James won.</i></span></li>
<li><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>Jamie Dornan has beautiful cartoon eyes but he was better in "The Fall." Also, I can hear his Irish accent at times, which I really don't mind. What I do mind is his lack of facial scruff.</i></span></li>
<li><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>The first third of this movie has actually been very sexy and kind of... nice to watch. I am delighted.</i></span></li>
<li><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>He shows up at her work and asks for serial killer things. I am laughing inside, because I just finished season 2 of "The Fall" where he is an actual serial killer and I'm wishing the plot would twist and this movie was actually a story about Paul Spector moving to America, getting really rich, and continuing to secretly murder brunettes until Gillian Anderson puts a stop to it.</i></span></li>
<li><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>My law friends and I are judging the non-disclosure agreement. Anastasia probably should have read it more thoroughly or consulted with a lawyer first. Please don't sign those things willy-nilly.</i></span></li>
<li><i style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">"I don't make love. I fuck. Hard." My friends in the theater audibly laughed at this line and they loved the books. I truly believe Jamie Dornan is doing his best given this terrible writing.</span></i></li>
<li><i><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">I am extremely grossed out by how excited he gets that she's a virgin. It's this incredibly patriarchal idea that women's worth to men comes from being her sexual "teacher," and if she knows what she's doing, or how to please herself, or what she likes, or what <u>you</u> might even like, then it's not exciting anymore. Ew, dude. You're being an asshole.</span></i></li>
<li><i style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">So is she basically a whore??? Like, they're not dating, and she gives him sex, and he gives her stuff in exchange for the sex???</span></i></li>
<li><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>Anastasia does not seem fond of the rods and whips and whatnot. I'm sure other people are really into that but some of those things looked really fucking painful and I'm just not sure that's my thing. Or hers. Which is a perfectly ok feeling to have, Anastasia. *pats her on the back gently*</i></span></li>
<li><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>It doesn't seem to me like they're looking for the same thing in a relationship. In fact, their expectations are both waaaay off. I BET THAT'S NOT A CONFLICT IN THE MOVIE AT ALL.</i></span></li>
<li><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>Ok, that's a lot of butt. They both have very fit bodies. And we see about 96% of them.</i></span></li>
<li><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>That's a looong shot of her nipple. Like, I'm not shocked by breasts or anything, but I just watched a close up of her nipple for about 15 seconds and I'm a little uncomfortable by that.</i></span></li>
<li><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>I guess they live in a world where losing one's virginity is a pleasant and not-at-all-painful experience.</i></span></li>
<li><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>I'm bored now. I guess she's not into the whole submissive sex thing, which again, is a perfect okay feeling to have. There's about 20 minutes of her being like, "IDK" and him being like, "PLS???" I do like that she's sassy about her "IDKs." They have sex at her house and there's ice and more gratuitous nipple shots. It's a little rougher than I was comfortable with, but we all have our limits.</i></span></li>
<li><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>The best part of the movie, in my opinion, was their negotiation of the sex contract. My law school friends and I were very interested in this part, haha. I thought she could have gotten a better deal out of it, but again, she didn't consult a lawyer.</i></span></li>
<li><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>I feel like for the first half of this movie, she's really been the one in control and she seems to like that she has power over Christian.. So why on earth would she give that up and suddenly be a submissive if that's not something she's actively seeking?</i></span></li>
<li><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>I clearly don't know enough about BDSM, because I am very confused at how he was a submissive for years and years and years but now he's totally a dominant? And I have heard those same arguments for being <u>a</u> submissive about submissive Christian women in marriages ("It's freeing not having to worry about decisions") and I am no more convinced in this situation that someone who is not excited about being submissive should be so to please another person.</i></span></li>
<li><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>I'm bored again. </i></span><i style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I think it's at this point in the movie when I determined that Christian Grey was a total asshole and any lingering sexiness just disappeared for me.</i></li>
<li><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>He keeps making statements like, "I just want all of you," and "You can't do things without my permission" and "I want to control you" and I guess it's supposed to be sexy but it's having the complete opposite effect on me right now. I am sitting there with a stink-look on my face while he's being "romantic."</i></span></li>
<li><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>All I can think of while he's upset at her going on a trip without telling him and bitching about how he wants to control her is that, when I was 16, I would have thought this was sooo sexy. But I have learned, through college and life and growing up, that those behaviors are really the least sexy things a person can say or do. It's about power and control and distrust and those are all things I want to avoid at all costs in a partner. I don't care if Christian Grey bangs like a god - if he's gonna act this way, I'm leaving his well-sculpted ass in a heartbeat.</i></span></li>
<li><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>She's crying all the time about what an asshole he is but she's still with him. I'm sad for her.</i></span></li>
<li><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>He's hitting her stomach with a crop and she's acting like it's bringing her to ecstasy. I fundamentally do not understand.</i></span></li>
<li><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>"I'm 50 shades of fucked up." COMPLETELY lost it in the theater and couldn't stop laughing. I'm pretty sure I wasn't the only one. But seriously, COME ON.</i></span></li>
<li><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>The last few minutes are just ripe with consent issues. She absolutely told him to hurt her in the way that he wanted to, but she did it so that he could see the effect it had on her. So she's crying on this table, getting whipped on the butt by the guy she loves, and can leave at any time... but doesn't, so he can see how much it's hurting her. I still don't get why she thought this was necessary to teach him something in the first place. I'm just very confused.</i></span></li>
<li><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>Oh, I guess it's done?</i></span></li>
</ul>
<div>
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">After I left the theater, two things were especially clear to me:</span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>First, these two people had wildly different expectations and desires. </b>Anastasia wanted a romantic, sweet boyfriend, and she was crushed that Christian Grey was not that kind of guy. And Christian wanted a lady friend to have lots of sex with and be his submissive and have total control over. Anastasia did not want to be that for Christian, and Christian did not want to be that for Anastasia.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">The analogy I used right afterwards was that if you have a green painting and wish it was blue, maybe you should go out and exchange it for a blue painting instead. Sitting there wishing it was something different is not going to change it. It's still green. And maybe you just don't like green. Maybe you really like blue. So stop whining and being sad, and find something blue that will make you happy.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">These were two people who are not what each other wanted and needed. And while I understand the struggle of wanting to be someone your partner desires and failing utterly to do so, I also saw her crying in every other scene. It's sad. And I wish she had respected herself enough to get the hell out of there.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>Second, Christian Grey was controlling and basically the worst.</b> The more controlling he got, the grosser I felt about the whole situation. Emotionally, he was like a petulant man-child, stuck at age 10, wanting to be the center of her world 24/7 and not handling it like an adult when he wasn't. I'm trying to think of someone I would want to be around less, let alone be in a relationship with less. Being good-looking, rich, and passionate does not excuse him being shallow, emotionally-immature and -uninvolved, and controlling.</span><br />
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Now, if that kind of guy appeals to you, feel free. I'm not here to stop you or to tell you not to like what you like. But you deserve to be with someone who loves you, who respects you, and who is emotionally mature enough to be in a real relationship.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">--------</span></div>
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>All-in-all, I've described the movie as both better and worse than I expected. </b>The first part was actually really entertaining and fun to watch, but then second part was painful to get through (ha). I tried really hard to go in with an open mind and judge it for what it was, which I feel like I did. My favorite part was seeing it with my friends, who did not judge me for warning them that I might laugh at parts and not to be upset with me. There was this elevator scene near the beginning of the movie where he kisses her and it's undoubtedly the hottest part of the movie in my mind. It was full of sexual tension and touching and passion, but it was fully consensual and there was no question that it's what they both wanted... which is the hottest (and only???) kind of passion in my opinion, haha.</span><br />
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>Would I watch the second one? </b>Probably not. I'm positive the plot from here on out is that *gasp* he suddenly changes and she gets through to him emotionally and he doesn't want to hurt her anymore and he lets her touch him and they're happy. Which is bullshit and not what happens in real life, so I think I'll pass... Unless my girlfriends ask me to go again. Then I probably will, because I'm really not in a position to pass up a girl's night out.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>I'm still torn about the consent issues at the end of the movie. Have you seen the movie? What did you think?</b></span><br />
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><b>xo Madie</b></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16400621027250890268noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5975880234360265597.post-34004303723303328252015-01-12T21:03:00.000-06:002015-01-12T21:03:07.946-06:00On Being In Love<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2niKsboH7OQ/VLSD5jlxF3I/AAAAAAAADZ4/U9AhFlIfn2M/s1600/pic_1333071415_1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2niKsboH7OQ/VLSD5jlxF3I/AAAAAAAADZ4/U9AhFlIfn2M/s1600/pic_1333071415_1.jpg" height="200" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Hello loyal Her/Story
readers!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s been a long time, I know,
but life has been crazy the past few months with new job, new city, and new
adult life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I’m back, and today, I
want to talk about love.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yes, I’ve
posted about it before, several times in fact, in several of its many
forms.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve talked about how we should
love each other as Jesus did, what real love feels like (glorious, painful,
terrifying, and exciting), and that there are all types of love.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Let’s face it, love is a favorite subject of
mine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve always been fascinated by the
concept.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I read about it, write about
it, talk about it, and try to understand it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I’ve written all my past posts, specifically in regards to romantic
love, mostly from an observatory standpoint because I’ve never been in
love.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At least…I don’t <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">think</i> I have.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Recently, the question of whether or not I’ve
ever been in love has been on my mind a lot. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Before we get to into that, however, a little
bit of background first.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In an attempt
to branch out and break out of my comfort zone as a part of my new adult life,
I’ve started the online dating thing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It
took a lot of convincing from friends and family, but I finally got myself a
profile and have started to intentionally look for someone to fall in love with.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve never done this kind of thing before
(intentionally seek out a relationship), and it’s made me really wonder what it’s
like to fall in love.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s also made me
really wonder if maybe I’ve already been in love, but didn’t recognize what I was
feeling.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I never thought so before, but
now I’m not so sure.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve never been in
a relationship before, but that doesn’t mean I’ve never had feelings for
anyone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Could some of those feeling have
ever been love?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How do you <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">know</i> if you’re in love?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Can you fall in love with someone you’re not
in a relationship with?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How do you know
if you’re falling in love with someone you <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">are</i>
in a relationship with? </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">These, and different variations
of these questions have been racing through my head for the past few weeks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So, ever the inquiring mind, I took to the
streets to try and find some answers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And by streets, I mean mostly Facebook and some texting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I asked several people who I knew to be in
love, or to have ever been in love before, how it was they knew what they were
feeling. The answers I received were thoughtful and honest, and there were a few similarities among almost all of them that I was able to pick out. Put together, I think they offer very helpful insight into how people fall in love, and how you can tell if you might be on your way to jumping off the deep end yourself.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Among many of the people I spoke with, a common occurrence I found was that people had said the words
“I love you” in previous relationships without really understanding what that meant. A few maintained that they <em>did</em> feel some form of love in those situations, but it wasn't necessarily the type of love that you can build a life on. It wasn't until they had actually fallen in love that they realized the times they had thought themselves in love before were really more diluted experiences of the emotion. They loved, but weren't necessarily <em>in</em> love. Love is a spectrum, and it takes many forms. Oftentimes, we do not realize exactly where on the spectrum we fall, and this is especially true when we are young and not that experienced in love. To those I talked to, many found that as they matured and were able to better understand who they were as an individual, it became much easier for them to understand when they were truly and deeply <em>in</em> love with someone, and what it was they needed from a steady and committed relationship.</span><br />
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">A lot of people said that falling <em>really</em> in love was a slow build for them, and they didn't actually realize it was happening until it had already happened. Some observed that when they finally said the words "I love you," it felt almost naturally because they'd had those feelings for so long, but hadn't fully understood what they'd meant. Some resisted, some recognized what was happening, and some were surprised when they finally realized just how long they'd been falling in love. Those who resisted did so mostly out of fear of being hurt, especially if they'd suffered similar pain in the past. Yet in the end, though it may have taken them a little longer than most, when they finally admitted to being in love, it freed them to be even more open and genuine with their significant other. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Several people also answered me by saying that they realized they were in love because they missed the other person in a way they'd never missed anyone before, to the point of aching. Some would come away from Skyping or talking on the phone with their significant other with huge smiles that they couldn't fight. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">One person's story in particular stood out to me, because she was reflecting on a love that she wasn't sure was actually returned (at least at the time). She told me she’d had feelings
for someone for a long time, but never realized that what she was feeling was
love.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> In fact, she adamantly denied that what she was in love, even when other people would point it out to her. When she finally acknowledged what the emotion actually was, s</span>he described it as a full body
reaction that she’d never had towards anyone else.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Just thinking of him would make her chest
ache, her heart pound, and her legs go a little numb. He was the only person she'd ever thought of having a future with, and also the only guy who'd ever held her attention for very long. While she wasn't really sure she was all the way in love with him, she eventually realized that she was definitely on that path.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"></span><br />
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-l2xclwmMYa4/VLSBQTYAP-I/AAAAAAAADZs/7K89BO7J-LU/s1600/relationship-love-people-weird-Favim_com-749981.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-l2xclwmMYa4/VLSBQTYAP-I/AAAAAAAADZs/7K89BO7J-LU/s1600/relationship-love-people-weird-Favim_com-749981.jpg" height="224" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">Finally, the majority of the people I talked to reported back the same thing: they could be their genuine selves with the other person. They didn't have to hide any part of who they were, or try to adjust themselves to fit the other person's ideals. In a few instances, people realized they were in love with their significant other because they were put in a vulnerable situation, but it didn't bother or frighten them that that one person was present to witness it. As one individual put it, "love is finding somebody who not only accepts, but who also understands the weird in you...Love is mutual weirdness."</span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">So, put together, what can all this tell us about falling in love, and knowing when we are really in love? It tells us that people recognize the feeling at different points in their relationship, for different reasons. It doesn't always strike like a lightning bolt out of nowhere. A lot of the time, it's a natural build up over time. Being in love, like really, really in love, can be complicated, confusing, and scary. It can be unlike anything you've ever experienced before, and it can be ever-changing, evolving as you grow and mature as an individual and as a couple. There might not be one right way to fall in love and be in love, but it seems to really be one of those experiences that you know its happening when it finally happens.</span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">Until next time,</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">Erin B. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Mostly because the whole series is on Netflix and I'm binge-watching it, one of the best, most love-filled moments from Friends :)</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10065741913721435892noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5975880234360265597.post-18619063715004673252014-11-04T21:13:00.002-06:002014-11-04T21:13:38.085-06:00Another Hair/Story<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="text-indent: 0in;">Like Madie, I just chopped all my
hair off. (Ok, almost. There are still a few hairs left.) There must be
something in the water this group drinks, Erins be warned.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kIkcABgh1IY/VFmVl_fsIwI/AAAAAAAAAUc/92Gz9JQX5gg/s1600/long%2Bhair.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kIkcABgh1IY/VFmVl_fsIwI/AAAAAAAAAUc/92Gz9JQX5gg/s1600/long%2Bhair.jpg" height="175" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I'm the one on the left, yo.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
Unlike Madie, I don’t date men.
Instead, I joined the ranks of the majority (I don’t know the stats, people,
I’m just making assumptions) of lesbians who rock short hair as a life choice.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
In other words, I am perpetuating my
own stereotype.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-85oY_5bIwwY/VFmURFDPGoI/AAAAAAAAAUI/d6EHis7bkYw/s1600/ponytail.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-85oY_5bIwwY/VFmURFDPGoI/AAAAAAAAAUI/d6EHis7bkYw/s1600/ponytail.jpg" height="200" width="150" /></a>And I feel great about it.</div>
<o:p></o:p><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
I have spent most of my life
following the rules. I love rules. If life had a rule book and all I had to do
was follow it, I would win at life. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
I’m a color inside the lines kind of
gal.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
So when I came out as a lesbian (or
bisexual, or queer, or whatever the heck I came out as) it was a huge leap out
of the box for me. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
I was never alternative. Besides a
brief stint in fifth grade when I wore only black clothes, I never rebelled.
The craziest thing I did my freshman year of college, when most of the rest of
my class was getting drunk for the first time (or 100<sup>th</sup> time) was
die by hair (a natural color) and pierce my ear (in a normal place).<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
Needless to say, I haven’t exactly
lived life on the edge.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
And I’m cool with that. I read
authors like Anne Lamott and Nadia Bolz-Weber, women who did crazy stupid shit
in their pasts, because I have always dreamed of being a rebel and I simultaneously
know that I could never break that many laws.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
So I guess my haircut is pretty
alternative, given how non-alternative I am. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-I-8uY6vagWk/VFmUuqFFl6I/AAAAAAAAAUQ/1NWJBv4ZbXs/s1600/short%2Bhair.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-I-8uY6vagWk/VFmUuqFFl6I/AAAAAAAAAUQ/1NWJBv4ZbXs/s1600/short%2Bhair.jpg" height="200" width="112" /></a><o:p> </o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
I know we aren’t supposed to let
looks define us, but I’ve been thinking about trying to let this hairstyle
define me a little bit.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
I spent most of my life living in
the box and the only reason I stopped was because I had to choose between being
true to myself and making everyone else happy. It's time to try something new.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
Does something as simple as hair
explain that to people? <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
Probably not.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
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But it was never about them anyway.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Love,</div>
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Kelsey</div>
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Kelseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01992373525787394564noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5975880234360265597.post-262244193049518002014-10-19T10:42:00.001-05:002014-10-20T11:18:48.505-05:00Hair/Story<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-OEwWhvY475M/VEPUDd1brdI/AAAAAAAAKEA/YhNtxeNW90U/s1600/ShortHair.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-OEwWhvY475M/VEPUDd1brdI/AAAAAAAAKEA/YhNtxeNW90U/s1600/ShortHair.png" height="388" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Before I cut my hair off about a month ago, a lot of my
friends at law school already knew I was planning to do it. </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">I got asked a lot why I wanted to get a pixie cut. No one asked
in a rude way, just with curiosity – like, if my hair looked good at the length it was,
why would I want to have short hair? </span><b style="font-family: inherit;">I explained time and time again that <i>I just wanted to</i>.</b></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I felt claustrophobic because my thick, fluffy hair around
my face and neck. I missed the freedom of not having to style my hair in some
form. I just didn’t feel like myself with my longer hair. I’ve had short hair
more often than long in the past five or so years, so it wasn’t a scary
decision.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>Short hair just seems natural on
me.</b> <b>It’s sassy, it’s fearless, it’s low-maintenance, and it’s unapologetic: everything
I strive to be.</b></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">After I got my hair cut, most reactions were positive. <b>But one guy asked me if my
boyfriend supported me cutting my hair off so that guys wouldn’t hit on me as
much. </b>I laughed, then I calmly tried to explain that my
boyfriend happens to think I have a pretty face, and that it’s easier to see my
pretty face when I don’t have so much hair in the way… And that I feel confident that he’s not trying to purposely make me uglier.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">This conversation bothered me in the same way that all those
articles online from douchey bros, who claim that short-haired women are
ruining the fun for men, do - because they all assume one vital falsehood:</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>That I (and other women) are actively thinking about pleasing
men and how all our actions fulfill that goal.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I did not cut my hair for men. I didn’t cut it for my
boyfriend, or my father, or my male friends, or the men I pass on the street. </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">I did not keep my hair long for men. I didn’t keep it long
for my boyfriend, or my father, or my male friends, or the men I pass on the
street.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>I grew out my hair because I wanted to. And I cut it off
because I really, really wanted to.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">If cutting my hair off upsets sexist douchebags and
makes me less appealing to random men on the street, that’s actually a plus in my
book. <b>It weeds out the kind of guys who will objectify me on first sight, or judge me without getting to know me, or assume that I care about their opinions on the sexual attractiveness of my body.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I wear high-waisted pants because they make me feel
fabulous. I have a nose ring because it makes me happy. I have short hair
because it makes me feel confident. I wear running leggings as pants sometimes
because they’re comfortable and opaque. <b>None of these actions are harmful to other people, and they are deeply and personally satisfying for me.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>Women do a lot of things without thinking about the
reactions or approval of other people – men and women included.</b></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I want
Jake to think I’m beautiful. I want my dad to approve of my choices. I want to
make my grandpa proud. But if it comes down to making myself happy and making
other people happy, I’m going to go with actions and decisions that make me
happy and fulfilled.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>Your decision for how to cut and style your hair, what
clothes to wear, or how to decorate your body are all personal decisions that
only you can make - and these decisions do not make you any less of a woman or deserving of respect.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">If you want pink hair down to your waist or no hair at all - have 15 piercings on your
face alone or just your ears - two full sleeve tattoos or a butterfly tattoo on your lower back - and those things will fulfill you deep in your soul <i>(or maybe you just really want them)</i>, then let your freak flag fly.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">No one should be making that decision for you – especially trolls
on the internet. If a few less douchetools don’t think you’re sexy for being
your most complete, confident, satisfied self, then I’m pretty sure you're the one who lucked out.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>xo Madie</b></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16400621027250890268noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5975880234360265597.post-48475278045024357402014-03-28T19:54:00.000-05:002014-03-28T19:54:59.803-05:00A bodily work: birthing my baby<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Pregnancy is a bodily business. So is giving birth. It seems odd to tell my birth story with words and thoughts when it contained very little of either. But my body is already changing the story it tells each day, and the birth of Amy Mae is one I wish to remember. So, here we go.</span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">(Friday) </span></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"> A few morning contractions and a little birth show on my panty liner are the first indicators I deem important enough to text to my doula, Julie. Just a quick update but a new development since I saw her at our 38-week prenatal appointment with my midwife, Lanette, two days previous. It’s another low-key morning with a wide open time line of an unknown duration of waiting. The end of pregnancy. I spend most of my time these days resting, eating, and watching Property Brothers on HGTV, which I am convinced exists for frustrated, non-working pregnant women. Thankfully, this day has a little more color because my husband, Michael, and I have a big adventure planned for the day: going to the grocery store. Woo-hoo, right? Not many contractions through the morning, but a really strong one in the dog food aisle of Pick ‘n’ Save this evening reminds me of the promising change from the morning. A few more through dinner. A few more in the evening. Several while trying to go to sleep. Several more while trying to stay asleep. Finally, they are too frequent and annoying to sleep through, so I get out of bed at 3 A.M. and spend an hour rolling around on my birthing ball. I don’t want to wake Michael, because I know he will need his rest if I really am in labor. After an hour, I call Julie to tell her I am having strong contractions every ten minutes with a smaller one at the 5 minute mark in-between. I know I need to try and sleep, and she confirms that in her sleepy voice. I go back to bed and rest between contractions, but sleep will not come. </span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">(Saturday) </span></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"> Michael and I are up around 8 A.M. which is earlier than usual, because we like to sleep in. Michael rubs my back while I lay over the birth ball and while I’m on my hands and knees. I’m trying very hard to relax and help each contraction be as productive as possible, but I’m also trying to rest. So, I keep my contractions about 10 minutes apart. Around 11 A.M. I decide to commit to laboring, and I go upstairs to walk around the living room. A few granola bars and a fruit smoothie later we leave at 2 P.M. for the 35 minute drive to Milwaukee. (Contractions have been 3 minutes apart if I’m walking and 5 minutes apart if I’m sitting.) The car ride is not as bad as I expect, which is a small relief. </span></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>We arrive at the birth center to cheerful, excited faces. I feel that my face is one of exhaustion and almost boredom. The only thing I desire is sleep, and I’m having a hard time getting excited about the prospect of a new baby. It’s as though my mind doesn’t comprehend the possibility. It’s only a couple minutes before I find out why.</span></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>After letting me pee, the midwives have me lay on my back, take my vitals, and listen the baby’s heartbeat through a contraction. I haven’t had a pregnancy pelvic exam yet, so I don’t know what to expect, but it lasts longer and is much more uncomfortable than I thought it would be. Lanette calmly tells me to stay relaxed, and she will let me know more when we’ve gone through a contraction and finished up. </span></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Turns out our baby had decided her hand was so nice that she wanted it right by her head. Consequently, she had been sitting on top of my cervix off-center, with her hand jammed up by her head. Lanette had needed to push it back. That’s what had made my pelvic exam so long and extra uncomfortable. The baby could now sit on my cervix like an egg in an egg cup instead of an egg with a marker next to it trying to fit in an egg cup. </span></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I’m so glad she could push back that arm, but I’m just so tired and now we need to walk around. A couple laps around the birth center with contractions that now feel different. I want to lay down, so Julie sets me up in a three-quarters-over position with my right knee on a pillow. I try and sleep. I’ve spent hours being woken by contractions, but I wake to a much larger, much more painful contraction. I feel so much pressure in my lower back and have a harder time finding focus in my relaxation. These are worse to try and sleep through.</span></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Another pelvic exam, two hours after the first, and I’m 1 cm dilated. I haven’t slept in 30 hours, laboring for about 16 of those, and my only question now is “what next?” I don’t care when the baby will come. I’d wait a week if it meant I could get some sleep. </span></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Lanette and Ali explain that I have a couple options. There are some different medicines that might slow my labor and let me sleep. Julie listens, does some more research for us, and recommends the anti-histamine. It should help me sleep and has been known to slow or stop early labor (usually anything before 4 cm). Sure. Call it in. We will pick it up at the Walgreens a mile from our home. </span></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>We walk into a mucky winter night and our windshield washer fluid has frozen. Our 35 minute drive turns into a much longer affair with slow speeds on the interstate and two stops to wipe off the windshield. Michael has been a pillar of calm and reassurance, but I know he is getting impatient. He just wants to get me home, and I just want to sleep. The contractions are incredibly painful and I relax through each one as best I can, but I am getting angry. I start audibly sighing through contractions but not so much out of coping or instinct. I’m just angry at the contractions, so I’m yelling at them.</span></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>We get to Walgreens and they tell us they can’t give me my prescription because it’s not covered by my insurance. Fine, we will pay out of pocket. Oh, the state won’t let you do that. Are you kidding me? (That thought may have contained some swear words in my head.)</span></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Michael asks if I want to wait in the Walgreens parking lot while we call the midwife to figure something out or go home. I say I want to go home so I can just “get out of the damn car.” </span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">(Home) </span></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"> I haven’t eaten more than a piece of toast and a couple granola bars since Friday night dinner, so I know I need to eat before climbing into bed. My mother-in-law comes downstairs with my requested bowl of raisin bran to sit with me while Michael calls, gets the prescription redone, and goes to pick it up. </span></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I finally get my medicine around 8 P.M. I am ready to settle in for some much needed rest.</span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">(Some time that feels like a day in-between Saturday and Sunday)</span></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The medicine doesn’t work. I’m up every 5 minutes with strong contractions. Every two or three take me off my side and onto my hands and knees on the bed, and Michael wakes up with me for each one. Every time he tells me I’m doing well is a time when I need to hear it. (Which is with every contraction...) I tell myself I’m strong. Focus. I can do this. I picture myself running up a hill, knowing it will be easier after I get to the top. I can’t help thinking that running up hills will be much easier to me after this night of labor. </span></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>We try again with more medicine at midnight. Still doesn’t work. More contractions. At 4 A.M. we are texting Lanette and Julie that it’s not working. They recommend a bath. There is one time (maybe two times...) when I think I could just go to a hospital and tell them to take the pain away somehow with some drug that will stop labor. Anything. But I don’t want that, so I do what I don’t want to do. I take a bath. Michael sits in the low lit bathroom with me to make sure I don’t drown or slip. I stay in the water until it's cold, and he sits with me quietly the entire time though he has not slept either. The bath is relaxing, but not like I want it to be. Back to bed. I spend the rest of the morning much like before with the addition of weird visions of lemon greek yogurt during contractions. I’m also going through them with Rock You Like a Hurricane going through my head, because I keep rocking my hips and it hurts and somehow that means hurricane to my exhausted mind. 48 since I’ve slept, 32 hours of labor.</span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">(Sunday) </span></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"> It’s 8 A.M. and my hands and knees are so tired. I’ve been on them on and off for probably 32 hours, the last 14 of which have been very difficult. I wake from one of my 5 minute nap breaks to a promising plan from Michael. Julie and Lanette are supposed to text us about a time to come to the birth center so they can check the baby. Finally, something to look to! I’ve been laboring convinced my contractions are ineffectual because that was how my first 18 hours of labor went. The medicine was supposed to slow my labor, so I think the last 14 hours have been for nothing. </span></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span> We leave at 9:45 to meet everyone at 10:30. I’m pretty sure I look like death. Yesterday, I walked in feeling like a woman in labor. Today, I walk in feeling like zombie. </span></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span> Ali gives me a pelvic exam and the best news I’ve heard in 24 hours: I’m paper thin and 6+ cm dilated. The last 14 hours have not been for nothing! She mentions to Julie that the baby is +1. I'm pretty sure that means she’s low. No wonder I’ve had so much lower back pressure. That and the fact that my membranes still have not released.</span></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But...I can get in the tub. A big tub. A big, beautiful tub of water which is all I have wanted for 8+ months. I get in and keep trying to relax. I’m pretty sure I look relaxed, but inside my mind is running like crazy. I don’t remember any of the thoughts I was having, but I was very focused. Very aware. Trying to relax. Moving. Breathing. Drinking water from my blue cup with Michael’s help. It didn’t take long for me to figure out that a modified hands and knees was the most comfortable position for me. The tub had a little seat or shelf thing on which I could rest my elbows, so at least my wrists had a break.</span></span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iZYBZCM9EwI/UzYXCQ7rJsI/AAAAAAAAABE/a2MIQAqGSt0/s1600/DSC00049.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iZYBZCM9EwI/UzYXCQ7rJsI/AAAAAAAAABE/a2MIQAqGSt0/s1600/DSC00049.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Time moves quickly in the water. Sooner than I expect, my body has a small convulsion at the end of a contraction that feels like a push. Two more contractions with that pushing instinct, so I tell Michael to get the midwife (who is just in the next room). I feel a pop between my legs and know that my membranes have finally released. I find out later that it is 12:45 P.M. I've been in the water for only two hours.</span></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>From this point, I do not remember any pain. I did compare the pushes with contractions and couldn’t decide if I had a preference. At least I could feel more keenly the great work my body was doing. I felt my baby begin to move down. I felt her move forward with each series of expulsions and then slide back a little. I was very happy she was doing this, because I knew she was stretching me out little by little. And she was moving fast! I thought maybe a little too fast, but I couldn’t slow down the work my body was doing for me. 3 pushes from the end I knew how many more there would be, and I could feel her head. Second to last push and I knew there was only one more. She was <i>right there</i>. I was completely stretched out. Her head finally popped out (this hurt for only a moment) and I remember thinking it felt very round. It’s 1:13 P.M. A rest in my body’s work, and then some final expulsions to release her body. Her body felt bigger coming out than her head! (And hurt a little more, too.) She’s born at 1:15 P.M.</span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I moved off my elbows and knees to lay down, and then she was coming into my arms. Her head was up and her eyes were open and she cried immediately. I felt exhaustion. I felt relief. I didn’t know what I was feeling. These two days after the birth I didn’t remembered crying, but as I write this I remember. I cried. I looked at Michael and he was so happy. I drank in his expression, and I have held that memory second most vivid to my daughter’s face as she came into my arms and my chest. I didn’t feel like I knew her, nor did I feel any rushes of understanding. I only felt confusion and what I think was happiness. I knew I would get to know her. She was mine, but I didn’t quite know why. I knew she was Michael’s, because I could see it on his face. And his face gave me hope.</span></span><br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06328080191564923002noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5975880234360265597.post-48611331012947821502014-03-07T11:15:00.001-06:002014-03-07T11:15:15.349-06:00Adoption and Superheroes: The Relatability of Superman's Search for Identity<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">So, during the
past few weeks I have had a lot of different experiences centering on the theme
of identity. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One specific example of
this was the STM Dialogues.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This event
was wonderful, and allowed for different members of the STM community to tell
their stories.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All of the stories were
focused on the various issues that people face when determining or owning their
identity.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I actually submitted a piece
myself to be performed, which was about some of the questions and transitions I
have faced in my life as an adopted child.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>In thinking of what I wanted to write for this post, and thinking on the
theme of identity, I was brought back to a previous idea I had had for a blog
post, which talked about one of the most famous adopted kids of all time:
Superman.</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">I’ve been on a
bit of a Superman kick lately, I’ll admit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Ever since I saw <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Man of Steel, </i>and
found season one of <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Lois and Clark: The New
Adventures of Superman</i> on Amazon for like $10, I’ve been<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-a3hnv1bhfG8/Uxn4cGiUFVI/AAAAAAAAAK0/v7dGNVNgjnQ/s1600/lois+and+clark.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-a3hnv1bhfG8/Uxn4cGiUFVI/AAAAAAAAAK0/v7dGNVNgjnQ/s1600/lois+and+clark.png" height="200" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oh, the 90's goodness.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
borderline obsessed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s weird to, because Superman never
appealed to me as much as other heroes growing up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was too much of a goody-goody, which made
him boring (although I did LOVE <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Lois and
Clark </i>when I was a kid…and still love it…I recently bought season
two).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I always liked Batman better (DC
Universe-wise, anyway), because he was a little grittier, and less
black-and-white.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He works in black “and
sometimes very, very dark gray” (haha, LEGO movie reference).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Really, though, I could never relate to
Superman the way I sometimes could to other heroes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was too good, to unshakable, too…super.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vh6iVYVotpE/Uxn5B4SYpUI/AAAAAAAAAK8/tcYIhLBEMdU/s1600/man-of-steel-wallpaper-5-by-jonesyd1129-d61rrzt-foto-image-01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vh6iVYVotpE/Uxn5B4SYpUI/AAAAAAAAAK8/tcYIhLBEMdU/s1600/man-of-steel-wallpaper-5-by-jonesyd1129-d61rrzt-foto-image-01.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">However, what
makes Superman more interesting to me now is his struggle with his identity,
which is highlighted in <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Man of Steel</i>
(here come the SPOILERS).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Basically, the
whole movie can be boiled down to Superman’s struggle of balancing his identity
as Kal-El of Krypton, and Clark Kent of Earth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>In the movie, when Clark first realizes he is not his parents’
biological child, he is understandably confused and distressed (and on top of
that, he can lift a freaking bus...puberty is confusing enough without all of
that thrown in the mix).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His dad,
Jonathan Kent, doesn’t want Clark to let anyone know he has his superhuman
powers, because he is afraid people wouldn’t be able to handle it and would
fear and hate Clark (the results of this order prove disastrous, which is
typical when you’re forced to deny who you are…we all remember what happened to
Elsa in <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Frozen</i>).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">does
</i>encourage Clark to try </span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mzZ4G9Imj64/Uxn6CseqJsI/AAAAAAAAALI/Nok3WLQuIgg/s1600/elsa+2.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mzZ4G9Imj64/Uxn6CseqJsI/AAAAAAAAALI/Nok3WLQuIgg/s1600/elsa+2.png" /></a></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">and figure out why he was sent to Earth, and what
his other parents’ intentions for him were.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>However, while Jonathan only has good intentions at heart, his actions really
add to Clark’s confusion, distress, and fear of himself.</span><br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">As a teenager,
Clark goes through the somewhat typical stage of independence-seeking that all
teenagers go through, and as an adopted kid, this includes the occasional “You’re
not my real father/mother” retort that makes you want to punch him in the
head.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However, tragedy strikes (as it
usually does), and Clark comes to regret those comments (as he should).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Fast forward, though, and Clark’s a grown up
man traveling from place to place in search of his identity (the song “I Can Go
the Distance” from <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Hercules</i> would fit
in well with this part of the movie). <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Eventually, he finds a Kryptonian spaceship in
the Artic, in which he is able to learn more about his home world and the parents
who gave him up so that he could survive its destruction.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When he encounters General Zod (the bad guy),
Clark is faced with the decision to either help the General turn Earth into a
new Krypton, or protect the people of Earth from destruction.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/zgnHF2CwrPs" width="560"></iframe> </div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">OBVIOUSLY he chooses
to protect the people, but if you really break down this decision, it’s a lot
harder than it might seem at first glance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Clark has spent his whole life feeling different, as if he doesn’t
really belong anywhere.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He searches for
any clues that will answer the millions of questions that are constantly swarming
through him about where he comes from, and who he is.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When he finally discovers everything, he is
given the option to completely embrace the identity he has found…or create a
new identity based on who he was, and who he is.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As his Krypton father Jor-El states, “Born on
Krypton and raised on Earth, you had the best of both and were meant to be the
bridge between two worlds.”</span></div>
<h4 class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px;">
<span style="font-size: xx-small;">Space dad with baby Superman</span></h4>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px; text-align: left;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-f3YZv7MfvSE/Uxn7STFtswI/AAAAAAAAALY/rmA00PA4k9c/s1600/jor+el.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-f3YZv7MfvSE/Uxn7STFtswI/AAAAAAAAALY/rmA00PA4k9c/s1600/jor+el.jpg" height="148" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">Superman is neither
just Kryptonian, or just of Earth, but both, and he eventually realizes this
and finds his purpose to be the protection of his adopted home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While it is an extreme example, I’m sure
there are a <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">ton</i> of adopted kids who
could resonate with some part of Superman’s journey of identity.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know I can, but most especially with his
conclusion.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have no desire to meet my
biological parents or know where I “come” from.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I am completely happy with my life, and I my family is the most
important thing in the world to me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However,
after years of anger and pain in regards to my biological parents, I have come
to understand that they are a part of my identity as well, especially my biological
mother.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If she hadn’t made the choice to
give me up, I wouldn’t be </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">where I am right now, surrounded by all of the people
I love.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Like Superman at the end of <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Man of Steel</i>, I understand that both my
parents and my biological parents (where I am and where I come from) are hugely
important to how I see myself and relate to the rest of the world.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Their decisions and actions have influenced
my identity, </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">and I wouldn’t be me if I never had all of them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think i</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">t’s important, in any search for
identity, to acknowledge what has come before and what is happening now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We are formed and molded by every aspect of
our lives, whether large or small, whether we realize it or not.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am not Superman, but Superman isn’t so hard
to relate to anymore. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<h4 class="separator" style="clear: both; line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: xx-small;">Farm dad with pre-teen Superman</span> </h4>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-sFEbwUlDgyk/Uxn71CQzGPI/AAAAAAAAALg/0hzh4-dRLI8/s1600/kent.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-sFEbwUlDgyk/Uxn71CQzGPI/AAAAAAAAALg/0hzh4-dRLI8/s1600/kent.png" /></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">See you next
time,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 1em 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">Erin B.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"></span><br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/CjSNLmb0Ndw" width="560"></iframe><br />
<div align="center">
And because I like to end on a laugh...</div>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><o:p></o:p></span> </div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10065741913721435892noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5975880234360265597.post-66227832786276210452014-01-25T15:28:00.000-06:002014-01-25T20:22:35.209-06:00Selfie/Story<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ibXu3rAqMUw/UtnY3x3yVEI/AAAAAAAAG8I/2_nYxkDdvm0/s1600/20.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ibXu3rAqMUw/UtnY3x3yVEI/AAAAAAAAG8I/2_nYxkDdvm0/s1600/20.JPG" height="400" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;">I've got a confession to make…</span><br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #444444;"><b>I take selfies.</b></span><br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #444444;">That definitely wasn't someone else who took that picture of my face. That was me. With my iPhone, with that little "reverse camera" feature so I could see what I looked like when I snapped the pic. I probably took at least three pictures before I finally took one I liked. If I'm gonna post my face all over the Internet, I wanna look<i> good</i>.</span><br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span>
<b style="color: #444444;">Women are expected to look beautiful all the time.</b><span style="color: #444444;"> We're expected to look flawless whether we're at home or work. Sometimes <i>(despite all those Pinterest fitspirations about, "If you look good after your workout, you didn't work hard enough)</i> even after a workout,</span><span style="color: #444444;"> in that sweaty, sexy, exhausted, maybe even post-coital way. We're supposed to wear makeup, but only enough to enhance our "best" features. We're supposed to have perfect skin, and if we don't, we're supposed to cake on some concealer until it's not as noticeable. It takes us twenty minutes to make our hair perfectly dishevelled so we look gorgeous, but in that, thrown-together-I-really-didn't-try-I-swear kind of way. We work really hard to look effortless.</span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-w3z5K7Fhh78/UuQevkeOhqI/AAAAAAAAG-8/oXvRbuPAwx0/s1600/makeup.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-w3z5K7Fhh78/UuQevkeOhqI/AAAAAAAAG-8/oXvRbuPAwx0/s1600/makeup.jpg" height="288" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-size: xx-small;">http://www.thegloss.com/2013/07/05/beauty/social-experiment-confirms-men-like-natural-makeup/</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="color: #444444;">That, in itself, says a lot about unattainable beauty standards. And on top of everyday people, celebrities, and (most of all) companies telling us that we we're not <strike>pretty</strike> <strike>skinny</strike> <strike>curvy</strike> <u>insert physical qualifier here</u> enough, why are we surprised that women have lower self-esteem about their appearance?</span><br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #444444;">According to <a href="http://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/the-human-beast/201305/why-women-feel-bad-about-their-appearance" target="_blank">Psychology Today</a>, women are more concerned about their appearance because people judge us on our appearance, much more than people judge men on appearance. </span><a href="http://www.dove.us/Social-Mission/Self-Esteem-Statistics.aspx" target="_blank">Dove</a><span style="color: #444444;"> says that only 4% of women worldwide would describe themselves as beautiful. </span><span style="color: #444444;">This may have to do with sexual selection, biology, or competition, but it's a real life problem that women experience on a daily basis. We're sold products to cover up or eliminate these "flaws." If we didn't feel so shitty about how we looked, many a company would go out of business.</span><br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #444444;"><b>As we try so hard to look so perfect (quite an uphill battle), heaven forbid women express any sort of pride or confidence about their appearance.</b></span><br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #444444;"><i>"Oh, you look so beautiful today!" "Psh, no, I look like a troll! You look beautiful!"</i></span><br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><i>"Oooh, I love those pants!" "Awww, really? I got them on sale!"</i> (Notice, no acknolowedgment that your body is attached to those gorgeous pants)</span><br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><i>"You look really pretty today!" "Are you kidding me? I just rolled out of bed!"</i></span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/qqqkeH5sEX4?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #444444; font-size: x-small;"><i>When should I stop quoting "Mean Girls?" THE LIMIT DOES NOT EXIST.</i></span></div>
<span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #444444;">Women are supposed to be insecure. We're supposed to blow off compliments. If you're open about how beautiful you feel, even if you <i>totally</i> do, you're full of yourself. A bitch. Cocky. Self-involved. Fake. Vain. Maybe even <i>slutty</i>.</span><br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span><b>Selfies are a touchy subject.</b> People see them as promoting vanity, an impression of empty-headedness, attention-whoring, or self-obsession. And let's be honest: we all know that <i>one </i>person who has a Facebook album exclusively full of pictures of her face at slightly different angles. It does seem a little extreme.<br />
<br />
Here's my question: Is it really <i>offensive</i> that a woman might actually feel good about herself and her body?<br />
<br />
I'm not advocating we all start making selfie albums on Facebook or anything, but is it possible that maybe that girl posting a picture of her face just... feels pretty? Is it more offensive than a group of friends taking six different pictures of themselves until they take the most flattering one?<br />
<b style="color: #444444;"><br /></b>
<b style="color: #444444;">Is it so offensive that someone might actually feel good about themselves and feel okay sharing that online?</b><span style="color: #444444;"> We share new jobs, good grades, relationships, and pretty much everything else online, but sharing a flattering picture - differing from all those other tagged pictures <b><i>only</i></b> because you took it yourself - crosses the line?</span><br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ltydpICDwZo/UuQtJdz_efI/AAAAAAAAG_M/ouAvHCy88sk/s1600/1378554_10151738475997297_1119857536_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ltydpICDwZo/UuQtJdz_efI/AAAAAAAAG_M/ouAvHCy88sk/s1600/1378554_10151738475997297_1119857536_n.jpg" /></a></div>
<span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #444444;"><b>In a world where 4% of women worldwide would call themselves beautiful, we should be celebrating women who have the confidence to post a picture and say to the Internet, "Hey, I feel beautiful today. Deal with it."</b> We should be encouraging other women to feel beautiful <i>just the way they are</i> (filter or not). We should be building each other up, not tearing each other down. We should encourage ourselves to celebrate our own beauty, whether that comes in the form of a good grade, singing really loud in the car (with the windows down - free those dulcet tones!), or having a good hair day. And hell, take a picture of it if you want to. I bet it looks great.</span><br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #444444;">At least on my Instagram feed, selfies appear all the time with a caption like, "Hey, just feeling pretty today! #nomakeup" <b>The responses to those pictures in particular are really beautiful</b> - 99% of the time, other women are building each other up. They say things like, "Wow, BABE ALERT," "You're always so beautiful," or "Screw makeup, you're so foxy!" Every time I see one, it warms my heart. </span><br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #444444;">I have an app called "BeauCoo" where women (of all shapes and sizes) can post their outfit pictures. It's meant to be a supportive community where you can see how specific clothing items might fit you, but the comments are always my favorite part. It doesn't matter what size, shape, face type, or skin color - the comments are always positive and uplifting.</span><br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #444444;"><b>When I see examples like that, I just can't throw all selfies in the "self-obsession & vanity" pile.</b> <b>I see a way for women to embrace themselves. I see a way to show the world that we refuse to make self-hate the norm. I see a way to embrace beauty however we'd like to. I see a way to raise that 4%.</b></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #444444;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #444444;"><b>How do you feel about selfies? Do you think they have redeeming quality?</b></span></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #444444;"><b><a href="http://herstoryvoices.blogspot.com/p/madie-f.html" target="_blank">xo Madie</a></b></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16400621027250890268noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5975880234360265597.post-69955171845972896012013-12-05T16:16:00.004-06:002013-12-05T16:16:59.651-06:00Women and Girls<div class="MsoNormal">
I recently had an odd exchange with a friend of mine. It
went a little something like this:<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Me: I was so mad in
class today because this woman took my seat. I mean, they aren’t assigned but I
always sit there. It really threw me off.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Friend: *laughs*…wait,
a college…woman or like an…adult woman?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This isn’t the first time I’ve had this response, but it
really struck me: what is the difference? Aren’t traditional college-age women
adult women? I personally don’t see a difference. College-age women are, by
legal standards, adult women. But why my friend had to ask for clarification is
because the normal word for a college-age woman isn’t <i>woman</i>—it’s <i>girl</i>. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
What’s the problem with calling college-age women <i>girls</i>? We don’t generally call college-age
men <i>men</i>; we call them <i>guys</i>. But <i>guys</i> is not the equivalent to <i>girls</i>—<i>boys</i> is. <i>Guys</i> doesn’t have the same connotation as <i>girls</i>. <i>Guys</i> has a sense
of autonomy and is generally not age-identified. <i>Girls</i> translates as young, less intelligent, small, helpless,
dependent, weak, and silly. People want to hang out with <i>guys</i>; the kids want to play with <i>girls</i>. By calling college-age women <i>girls</i> we characterize them as young, less intelligent, small,
helpless, dependent, weak, and silly.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’ve always thought of my college-self as a woman, not a
girl. But I never really thought about when my peers and I transformed into
women (I’m not speaking of legal recognition, of course). I always thought the
last time I would struggle with where I fit in society age-wise was
adolescence. In adolescence, we constantly (supposedly) struggle between the
adult part of ourselves and the child part of ourselves. There is conflict
inherent in being an adolescent. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But what about college…uhhh…kids? We are out on our own—some
of us very far from home, all of us out of our parents’ sight. As 18-23-year-olds,
we are legally adults and we are expected to act like adults. And yet, we are still
tied to home. Many rely on parents for financial and emotional support, for
advice, and even for things like health insurance (especially under the
Affordable Care Act). So, we are in a bind. We still grapple with the conflict
between child and adult. But still, we are mostly adult. If we commit a crime,
we’re an adult. If we go to the doctor, we’re an adult. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So we come to my real question: why is it so hard to call
college-age women “women?” Why do we have to remind ourselves that we are, in
fact, women? And at what age do we stop being girls and start being women? Who
decides that? College-age women are definitely not <i>girls</i>. So, why call them what they aren’t? <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I think we’re uncomfortable with the word <i>woman</i>. I think we’re uncomfortable with
the meanings around and of <i>woman</i>. I
think we’re uncomfortable with women. Violence against women, women in
business, women in politics, women in abortion clinics, conservative women,
liberal women, women doing whatever they feel like doing because they’re adults
who should be given the same rights as any other adult (especially the right to
privacy). I think we’re so hesitant to call women <i>women</i> because we want to keep as many women as girls as long as
possible because it’s more comfortable. <i>Girls</i>
doesn’t have as much potential to challenge the patriarchal system. Girls are weak,
silly, and helpless. They aren’t scary, capable women. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
If we stop calling college-age women <i>girls</i> we give them a measure of…well, if nothing else, respect. And
that’s not a bad place to start. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Guest blogger Sarah Flinspach is a sophomore at the University of Minnesota where she studies political science and minors in gender, women, and sexuality studies.</b></div>
Kelseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01992373525787394564noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5975880234360265597.post-34080652196026749762013-10-16T16:58:00.000-05:002013-10-16T16:58:02.389-05:00On Not Being Who I Thought I'd Be By Now<div class="MsoNormal">
Recently I've found myself thinking about my 18 year old
self. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qNEDUl01wd0/Ul30eIeXtII/AAAAAAAAAOE/hap_SVmUd_U/s1600/18years.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qNEDUl01wd0/Ul30eIeXtII/AAAAAAAAAOE/hap_SVmUd_U/s200/18years.png" width="196" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
To inspire me, I dug through some old pictures. Here is Kelsey, age 18. ------><br />
(Note:<i> I look almost exactly the same today and have still never worn a baseball cap well.</i>)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I've been questioning what 18 year old Kelsey would think of the way 24
year old Kelsey is currently living her life. Because <b>18 year old Kelsey had big
plans for her life</b>. She wanted to change the world and change the church and
also somehow have gobs of time to spend with all of her friends who just
happened to all live in her neighborhood.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But 18 year old Kelsey didn't have bills to pay. She'd never
been told no. She only had to think in theory. Her biggest concern was changing
her major - again and again and again.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I find myself - 24 year old Kelsey - caught in the middle of
a contradiction.<i> I want adventure, spontaneity, and to be completely uprooted,
while I simultaneously desire security, groundedness, and continuity.</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I want to move to a new state every year (which I've done
for the last three consecutive years) and make new friends and have new, crazy
adventures and I also want to own a home with a picket fence and a dog and
<b>never move again</b>.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I want to address poverty and devote my life to 15 causes
and protest bad stuff and get arrested for said protesting and I also want to
curl up with my girlfriend every night and watch Modern Family or Scandal and
go to bed at 10 p.m. - oh, and having a record probably wouldn't look good for
finding a normal job.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><i>I still have no idea what kind of grown up I want to be.</i></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Ap8WBbHdlGI/Ul7d_rR1m3I/AAAAAAAAAOU/jOC9w3H-VPk/s1600/sunset.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Ap8WBbHdlGI/Ul7d_rR1m3I/AAAAAAAAAOU/jOC9w3H-VPk/s200/sunset.jpg" width="200" /></a>Eighteen year old Kelsey probably did not dream of this life but what did 18 year old Kelsey know? She didn't
even know that the place I currently live (Michigan's upper peninsula) exists.<br />
<br />
She hadn't learned yet how beautiful the world is, or that she'd find herself
falling in love with mountains, oceans, and most recently, very large lakes.
She had yet to discover her adventurous self, the one who - just two years
later - would fly to the other side of the world and, among other highly
adventurous activities, hitchhike across a mountain range.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Eighteen year old Kelsey, in all of her optimism, naivety,
and youth, <b>allowed herself be wired by the community around her into a lover of
humanity </b>(for which I will be forever thankful). Her number one fear was to settle for an unfulfilled life.
Her greatest ambition was to hear the secrets of everyone she met. (That part
hasn't changed at all, and I know more than she would have ever hoped.)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>She was ignorant in her beliefs that change was easy, that
other people would want to change too, and that people would always be around
to ponder the big life questions with her. But she dared to see the potential of
a better world.</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She was ambitious in thought, but not always very practical.
For instance, 18 year old Kelsey also once promised to never make a decision
based on money, and let's be honest: that's just downright stupid.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I think she thought by now I'd have finally figured out a career
(which I haven't), that I'd be finishing up grad school (which I haven't
started yet), and ideally that I would have ended poverty by now,<i> and if not today hopefully sometime next week. </i><br />
<br />
Sometimes I feel like I'm letting her down. Sometimes I feel like that wild ambition has gone to waste, that all those big ideas are sitting dormant now.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vqMhK_fBH0I/Ul7lDelmkgI/AAAAAAAAAOk/MKVUavMUmvU/s1600/growingup.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vqMhK_fBH0I/Ul7lDelmkgI/AAAAAAAAAOk/MKVUavMUmvU/s200/growingup.jpg" width="184" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://media.photobucket.com/user/sedrax/media/quotes/forgiveness.jpg.html?filters[term]=growing%20up%20quotes&filters[primary]=images&filters[secondary]=videos&sort=1&o=7"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">http://media.photobucket.com/user/sedrax/media/quotes/<br />forgiveness.jpg.html?filters[term]=growing<br />%20up%20quotes&filters[primary]=images&filters<br />[secondary]=videos&sort=1&o=7</span></a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<b>I believe she would be critical of how much of a planner I've become, that she'd think I allow too little room for life's surprises.</b> I think she would be excited about my amazing community, but wonder why I am spending so much time sitting down, <i>letting life happen to me instead of throwing myself head first into the chaos.</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
<b>And so maybe it's okay that 24 year old Kelsey is stuck with a
naive, highly idealistic, and crazily optimistic 18 year old Kelsey's voice in
my head, pushing me forward just when I'm ready to sit still for awhile. </b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
When I think about the difference between myself today and myself six years ago, the thing 18 year old Kelsey did was dream bigger. She didn't do life much differently than I do, she was just totally determined that a better world was not just possible, that she could help bring it to fruition. <span style="font-size: 16px;">I think 18 year old Kelsey would like to reach through the past into today and shake out the skepticism and cynicism that has slowly crept into my being.</span><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">And I believe that every now and then it's helpful for
me to look at my life through her critical eye, wondering what she would say
about the life I've chosen for myself. <i>And I have hope that one of these days I'll make her proud.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span>
<br />
<br />
<b>What would your 18 year old self say about the way you're living today? Is that voice helpful to you today?</b><br />
<br />
I can't wait to hear your stories,<br />
Kelsey</div>
Kelseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01992373525787394564noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5975880234360265597.post-87915206747200349362013-09-24T17:37:00.000-05:002013-09-24T17:37:46.530-05:00"Who Am I to Judge?": Why I'm Cautiously Optimistic About Pope Francis I<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-t1O8LsrgyQY/UkITSzir8VI/AAAAAAAAAI4/DP34fn1Kl-g/s1600/hi.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-t1O8LsrgyQY/UkITSzir8VI/AAAAAAAAAI4/DP34fn1Kl-g/s1600/hi.png" height="320" width="150" /></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">There’s been a
lot of buzz about Pope Francis’ first extensive interview since his election,
which was released to the public last week.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>As the resident Catholic of Her/Story, I figured I should spend some
time reflecting on what the Pope had to say in what proved to be a wave-causing
piece.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Before I dive into the article,
however, I want to share my initial thoughts about our new Pope.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m not gonna lie…I was hesitant when he was
first elected to fully embrace him as my spiritual leader.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I knew very little about him (he was no even
a blip on my Papal radar…I was pulling for Cardinal O’Malley myself).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Immediately after he was elected, I heard
mixed responses from my fellow Catholic-people.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Most of what I knew and heard was good and encouraging: he’s from
Argentina and is the first Pope from this side of the Atlantic Ocean, he was a
member of the Jesuit order, and while serving as Bishop in Argentina he passed
over many of the “perks” of the job to live a simpler, more humble life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So that was good.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not so great were rumors that he was
ultraconservative, and that he was negatively involved with past political
conflicts in Argentina.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Again, though, I
knew very little, so I decided to withhold my ultimate opinion until I saw what
he did with the position.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">Six months later…I’m really starting
to like this guy.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"></span><br />
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1qHS2o2J-f0/UkISHmZcKhI/AAAAAAAAAIs/k8C10tEsTE0/s1600/francis-slum-feet_2510124b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1qHS2o2J-f0/UkISHmZcKhI/AAAAAAAAAIs/k8C10tEsTE0/s1600/francis-slum-feet_2510124b.jpg" height="199" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">He is turning out to be a bit of a
rebel-rouser, which I greatly enjoy, and he hit the ground running when it came
to implementing some changes to how things are done, especially by the Papal
Office itself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Pope Francis continues to
maintain his modest and humble lifestyle, not living in the papal apartments,
but in the less elegant guest house.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>During Holy Thursday last year, he washed the feet of juvenile
inmates…including the feet of a couple of girls, which had never been done
before by a Pope.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I won’t get into all
of the reasoning behind not washing female feet…just know that this was a
significant moment in the history of the Vatican.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He began to rework the Curia to de-centralize
power, and then there was his now widely known comment in regards to gays and
lesbians: “Who am I to judge?”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"></span><br />
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0tv4Xt_GauY/UkITgGiRCtI/AAAAAAAAAJA/7m83gmdazTA/s1600/Pope-Francis-13313-002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0tv4Xt_GauY/UkITgGiRCtI/AAAAAAAAAJA/7m83gmdazTA/s1600/Pope-Francis-13313-002.jpg" height="192" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">And
now, with his big interview, he has given me more reason to be optimistic.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He called the Church out for negatively obsessing
over gay marriage, abortion, and contraception.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>That is not to say that he approves of any of the above (one step at a
time, people), but he acknowledges that “The church sometimes has locked itself
up in small things, in small-minded rules. The most important thing is the
first proclamation: Jesus Christ has saved you.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He has been criticized by the more
conservative side of the Church for not speaking out about these issues
yet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But the Pope wants to turn the
Church away the path that it seems to have found itself barreling down, which
makes it appear rigid, uncompromising, inhospitable, and exclusive.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Instead, he wants the Church to put its focus
back towards Jesus, and work on healing “wounds” and warming “the hearts of the
faithful.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Whereas Pope Benedict sought
to protect the church by solidifying the core of ardent believers, Pope Francis
seems to want the Church to be a welcoming community that all believers can
feel at home in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>True, there is still a
long way to go for the Church to be considered completely inclusive, and I don’t
think even under this Pope we will see same-sex marriage accepted, or the
ordination of women into the priesthood (although he does say that the role of
women needs to be seriously considered, and a stronger theology of women
developed).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I truly hate using political
terms when discussing Church matters, but I wouldn’t put Pope Francis as a
liberal, or a conservative for that matter (his passion for the poor and social
justice would not fit the mold).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Instead, he is in the middle, trying to balance traditional doctrine and
modern ideals that seem to have only clashed in the past several years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I remain cautiously optimistic, however, in
what Pope Francis could do for the Catholic Church.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If nothing else, he is setting the stage for
a future we might not have thought as possible before.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">What
are your thoughts on the new Pope and what he’s been saying and showing to the
world?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Let me know!<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">Bye
for now,<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">Erin
B.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;">For the English
translation of Pope Francis’ interview, following the link to the American
Magazine website: </span><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><a href="http://www.americamagazine.org/pope-interview"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: blue;">http://www.americamagazine.org/pope-interview</span></span></a></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10065741913721435892noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5975880234360265597.post-62186848997001883532013-08-27T14:15:00.000-05:002013-08-27T14:15:22.674-05:00Living (with Grandma)<div class="MsoNormal">
You know how sometimes when you go to bed, you think back on
your day and what you've accomplished (and haven't accomplished) is radically
different than what you were planning in your head that morning?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
If you had asked me last August what I was going to do in
the next year, I would have said find a great job in Minneapolis, live with a
couple stellar roommates, bike all over the city, and drink delicious beer.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I don't have an eloquent synopsis of the last year of my life to offer you. My story doesn't come together like a pretty gift with a perfectly tied bow on top. But most of life isn't like that, anyway.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
What happened instead is this: last August I got a call from
my parents that my grandma, my dad's mom, was sick. They didn't know what kind of sick or how
long she would be sick, but as I didn't have a job situation figured out in
Minneapolis yet, I decided to to back to Iowa for a few weeks and live with Grandma.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I continued to apply and interview for jobs in Minneapolis,
but after we found out that she, in fact, had cancer and that it was, in fact, terminal, I officially moved to Iowa, found a job in Iowa City, and started
learning how to live with Grandma.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
One of the first things I realized was that Grandma knew a
lot of people in that town. She had a ridiculous amount of visitors. So I taped
a sign to the door that went to the garage (we always left the garage open)
that said "Come on in!" and we became quite used to people coming into
and out of the house regularly. I've also come to decide that it's a great life motto.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zI0c_e4XFr0/UhzjfjSv4aI/AAAAAAAAANw/CgQ2x3-llnQ/s1600/DSCN6586.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zI0c_e4XFr0/UhzjfjSv4aI/AAAAAAAAANw/CgQ2x3-llnQ/s320/DSCN6586.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<!--[endif]--><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Grandma also received tons of cards and phone calls. We couldn't
leave the house without coming back to a voicemail on the answering machine. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I've always said that people learn a lot about each other when they move in together, and I found that to be true with Grandma. I
made her go to bed at 10:00 (by telling her all the grandmas go to bed at 10)
and every night she would tease me about why she shouldn't have to go. I
learned that she liked her kitchen a certain way, and even though she was no
longer cooking food, I would never be allowed to change it. I saw the way she
moved her index finder when she was thinking hard about something, the way she
always answered the phone so full of energy, even if she didn't have any, and
her love of watching the news three times a day.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I lived with her during the week and my aunt stayed on
weekends, so I got to see a lot of friends this past year. I was everywhere
from Colorado to Vermont, and dozens of places in between. I also got a massive
amount of family time, as my parents visited Grandma and I twice a week, my
aunt and uncle lived in town, and my aunt came every weekend. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This summer, my girlfriend, Lisa, came to Iowa and lived
with Grandma and I, and I loved to joke about Grandma and her lesbian
roommates. But the arrangement was good for everyone. Lisa and I went to six
weddings this summer, and a couple days after she moved to Iowa, she, Grandma,
my parents, my aunt, and my cousin watched me run the Minneapolis Marathon.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hHy52rhWRhE/UhypfbV6bqI/AAAAAAAAANg/MjJCkHUfOx8/s1600/Marathon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hHy52rhWRhE/UhypfbV6bqI/AAAAAAAAANg/MjJCkHUfOx8/s320/Marathon.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<!--[endif]--><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
I was asked by a lot of people in the last year why I made
the decision to move in with Grandma. The truth is, it just always felt
like the right choice. We didn't always get along, but we had a pretty good
time together. We laughed a lot. We walked all over the neighborhood together. We got lots of bonding time.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Grandma passed away at the beginning of August and my family
and Grandma's friends (and she had a lot of them) mourned the loss of a
fantastic woman.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I don't know what I'd be doing right now if I had stayed in
Minneapolis, but the detour never felt like the wrong decision. Two weeks after the funeral, Lisa and I
moved to Michigan's Upper Peninsula where she'll finish her last year of
school. And me? I'm excited for a new adventure. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
It's been a year of life and of death. But mostly life.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Thanks for joining me,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Kelsey</div>
Kelseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01992373525787394564noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5975880234360265597.post-37840896693103055362013-08-16T23:35:00.000-05:002013-08-16T23:36:01.348-05:00Summertime RecapHello, loyal Her/Story readers! It's been a while, hasn't it? Sorry about that, but summer...ya know? This post isn't going to be anything real intellectually or spiritually substantial (I gotta ease back into this), but I kind of wanted to tell you all a little about my summer and what shenanigans I managed to tangle myself in.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-sFNuekNROQk/Ug78sWoVSxI/AAAAAAAAAII/rqTC1HDoOfQ/s1600/100_2657.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-sFNuekNROQk/Ug78sWoVSxI/AAAAAAAAAII/rqTC1HDoOfQ/s1600/100_2657.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me at the JFK Museum</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I spent the whole month of June in Boston, and was super poor so I didn't do a whole lot. What I did do, though, was pretty sweet. I finished editing manuscript one of my trilogy (there may be a promotional blog post about this later...stay tuned). This was significant because editing is my LEAST favorite part of the whole book-writing process. I was able to explore the city, though, and that was great because I hadn't been able to do a ton of that kind of thing during the school year. I marched in the Pride Parade, which was an experience I will never forget. I visited museums (I highly recommend visiting the JFK memorial museum and library if you're ever in the area), and spent time with many of my friends, growing closer in my relationships since we were without the overshadowing presence of school stress. I even went to Maine, which. Is. GORGEOUS.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AiPXNz-G0UI/Ug77MGrj3mI/AAAAAAAAAHw/6GUgqRoaA4k/s1600/100_2745.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AiPXNz-G0UI/Ug77MGrj3mI/AAAAAAAAAHw/6GUgqRoaA4k/s1600/100_2745.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Glorious Maine</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Most of my summer, however, I spent in Iowa with my family. Circumstances made it necessary for me to fly home for an extended period of time, but I wasn't really upset about it. I love Boston, and I love all of my friends there. But I never miss Boston like I miss Iowa (<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-541xchoydJ0/Ug78OnxDW8I/AAAAAAAAAIA/L83PW_UmF3I/s1600/Iowa+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-541xchoydJ0/Ug78OnxDW8I/AAAAAAAAAIA/L83PW_UmF3I/s1600/Iowa+2.jpg" height="216" width="320" /></a></div>
and when do miss Boston, it's mostly because of my friends there). When I miss Iowa, I get this dull ache in my chest, like my heart is desperate to be there. A lot of that has to do with my family (save for a cousin in Texas, pretty much my entire family, immediate and extended, is in Iowa and Nebraska), but some of it really has to do with the state itself and what goes on there. I love Iowa in the summer. Near the middle of summer, it gets really beautiful when the fields are green for miles and meets a wide, pure blue sky. When faced with that, I can't help be feel happy and content.<br />
<br />
I loved being home. I got to watch my little brother rock at varsity baseball (he's going to be a sophomore), and help my sister prepare for her next life adventure...college. I got to spend time with my mom and my dad, joking, teasing, pranking, and fighting. I was able to see much of my extended families, through reunions of various sorts. I hung out with some of my closest friends, and even participated in one of their weddings. I turned 24! I also was able to find work, and received a much appreciated scholarship that's going to go a long ways to ease my financial burdens over these next few months. <br />
<br />
All-in-all, my time in Iowa was wonderful, and I'm sad to be leaving. I'm not sad to be going back to Boston, though. Like I said, I miss my friends there and am ready to get back into a routine with school. I have one year left before I'm forced to face the real world, and though I would love to come back to Iowa (or nearby) right away, I'm leaving myself open to whatever opportunities may arise in the near future. I'm happy with my life, and I'm happy with where I think it's headed. But, as summer starts drawing to a close, it's a little bittersweet. I know that I will never be able to repeat several of the experiences I had over these last few months, and that next summer will look very different that this one has. That's okay, though...it's part of growing up (or so I've been told). So, I hope you all had a great summer as well. I also hope you stay with Her/Story, and continue to read and interact with us. We love doing this, and as we enter our second year of blogging together, we hope to continue doing this for a while. Until next time!<br />
<br />
Erin B.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10065741913721435892noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5975880234360265597.post-62526212211053015652013-06-15T17:01:00.000-05:002013-06-15T17:03:00.227-05:00The Pain of Love...And Why We Want It So Much<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Feel free to listen to this before, during, or after you read this post. It's just a good old-fashioned love song :)</span></div>
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</div>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">I struggled to think of something
to write for this week’s post.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Seriously,
no matter how hard I tried, I just couldn’t come up with something that would
make a significant piece that would be worth writing...let alone reading.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But then, as I lay on my couch watching <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">27 Dresses</i> it struck me…I could write
about love.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve written about love
before, but that was more about loving everyone in a way that would keep us
from being assholes to each other.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This
time, I want to write about the one-on-one love (mostly romantic, though I am
not discounting friendships and familial love by any means) that both
fascinates and terrifies us…that drives us towards committing ourselves
(whether for the rest of our lives, or for just the present moment) to another
person.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am writing this as someone who
has never actually been in love, but has observed it enough to have some sort
of understanding of how it works…I think.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Love
has actually been on my mind for a while now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I have quite a few friends who are getting married, engaged, in serious
relationships, or have reached a point in their lives where they are ready to
intentionally search for a love in a way they hadn’t been before.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve also been watching a lot of romantic
comedies lately (I am currently unemployed and have a lot of time on my hands).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now, I know that Hollywood’s depiction of
love and romance is not always right…and not always healthy…but I think there
is some truth in what is portrayed, at least as far as reflecting society’s obsession
with love and finding love.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We sing
about love, we write about love, we read about love, and we flock to see love
portrayed on the big screen in various scenarios.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Love makes us laugh, cry, hurt, and feel more
joy than we probably ever thought possible.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Love can be impossible.</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"></span> </div>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Sometimes, we
scoff at love because we don’t want to seem squishy and sappy (as I write this,
I find myself wincing at some of the sappiness that is leaking through…but we
plunge ahead!).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We harden ourselves to
it because our world is sometimes so cynical, there seems to be no room in it
for love or the desire and hope for love.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We can have the wrong ideas and expectations of love, thinking that it’s
supposed to be this force that makes us happy all the time, every day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The reality, though, is that real love is
oftentimes one of the most painful things we can ever experience.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Love is terrifying.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It makes us vulnerable and opens us up to a
special kind of hurt that only that person who we give our love to is capable
of inflicting on us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We face heartbreak,
hopelessness…and outright rejection.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Love can make you want to curl up into a little ball and never face the
world again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It can make you want to
lock away your heart and never give it away, so that you never have to feel
that kind of pain.</span><br />
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</div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Complicated: Check. Scary: Check. Doesn't Always Go the Way You Hope: Double Check</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"></span> </div>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">For all the pain
love can make us suffer, however, we still obsess over it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As mentioned before, I just finished watching
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">27 Dresses</i> before sitting down to
write this post.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I love that movie for
several reasons, but one reason is because it shows that sometimes you find
love where you weren’t looking for it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Love
can be complicated, and I always appreciate movies that portray this.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I also watched <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Love Actually </i>for the first time, and, well, I <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">loved </i>it (teehee).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I liked
that it showed different kinds of love…and that not every couple ended up living
happily ever after.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s closer to real
life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While I do love the stories where
the couples overcome every obstacle to be together (I’m a hopeless romantic at
heart), I recognize that that is not always the case.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Love can be gritty…and sometimes it can be
hopeless.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Another movie I watched that
reflects this is <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">My Best Friend’s Wedding</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sometimes, no matter how hard you try or how
much you wish it, your love is not always returned and it does not always
win.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s sometimes a harsh reality, but
it doesn’t mean you give up on love.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You
just can’t let the heartbreak stop the rest of your life from continuing
on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"></span> </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<div style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Love isn't always where you think it will be.</span></div>
<div style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Ultimately,
though, love and being able to love is worth fighting for.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t think any group of people demonstrates
this better than the LGBTQ community.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
was lucky enough to have the opportunity to walk in the Boston Pride parade not
that long ago, not as a member of the community myself, but as an ally who
believes no one should have the authority to tell someone who they can love and
what kind of person they’re “supposed” to be.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I think it is an amazing testament to the importance of love that people
are willing to fight so hard for their love to be acknowledged as equally important
and as worthwhile as others’.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think we
could all learn something from the LGBTQ community about the importance and
commitment of love…because I think the rest of us too often take advantage of love
and too easily throw it away.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Despite all of
the pain and fear that love can throw into our lives, however, it is a truly
beautiful thing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To truly find love is
to not settle for the shallow, feel-good love that ends when the honeymoon
phase is over, but to strive for the kind of love that causes us nearly as much
pain as joy, that gives us the courage to fight to keep it, to throw all of our
cards in on the person we think we can make a real life with.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If you are lucky enough to find this kind of
love, the love that meets the test of time, the kind of love where you lay
everything you are out in the open for the other person to see, the kind of
love you are willing to fight and work for…then you are the reason the rest of
us keep hoping, keeping searching, and keep risking the pain on the off chance
that we’ll also find that joy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Love is
never neat and clean, and it shouldn’t be.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>That much emotion, that much dedication, should be something that
challenges us every day and makes us grow as individuals and as couples.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am not in love, and don’t think I can
honestly say I have ever been in love…but it is something I hope for, and will
continue to hope for.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not everyone feels
the same as I do, and that’s okay.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Love
can come in all shapes and sizes, and people might not always want to find
romantic love.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I think it is one of
our greatest capabilities as human beings, and despite what real life often
shows me, I will always be secretly sappy and I will always cheer for, and hope
for, love.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
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<div align="center">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">A little treat for all those hopeless romantics out there (like me)...and because I watched this movie this week as well :)</span></div>
<div align="center">
</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
With love,</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Erin B.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"></span> </div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10065741913721435892noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5975880234360265597.post-48361510525032883242013-05-22T17:42:00.000-05:002013-05-22T17:53:37.017-05:00Weight/Story: Rebuilding a Broken Relationship<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-small;">This post is geared primarily at women, who have likely
been sent similar messages about their bodies as I have. I fully acknowledge
that men also have absurd body standards, but as I have no experience being a man, this post is directed at women. While writing this post I felt myself touching the edges of race and class, knowing that beauty standards differ across social groups, and so I feel that it's important to also note that my experience is that of a white, middle class woman, and many of my encounters in life are a reflection of those identities. I believe the way we've been socialized and the experiences we've had greatly impact us, and the issue below is absolutely representative of that.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">There is a weight problem in this country and I'm not
talking about obesity. It's everywhere I go, in every show and movie I watch.
It's taunting me, talking behind my back, and toying with my emotions every chance it
gets. <b>The obsession with a single woman's body type, a certain, specific,
often unattainable body type, is running rampant everywhere I look and it has got
to stop.</b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>My body and I have had a broken relationship for an entire
decade.</i> Let me be clear, I've never been very overweight. The battle has been
mainly internal, but at times it has been absolutely all consuming. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>Sometimes this problem manifests itself in intense loathing,
other times it's a subtle choice to avoid and ignore my own body and its needs.</b>
As I have eluded to in the past, I spent a chunk of time in high school
starving myself, attempting to become someone I'm not, <i>struggling to fit myself
into a tiny box that no one should ever be trapped in.</i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">When I gave up this harmful behavior, I went to the other
extreme. I stopped looking at myself in the mirror and began eating food
without thought, scared I would once again fall into the trap of being consumed
by the amount or kind of food I was putting into my body. <i>I refused to listen
to my body tell me it was hungry, tell me it was full, or even tell me when it
enjoyed the food I was eating.</i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">It felt like a trade off. <b>Either I cared about my body and
what I ate, became obsessed with controlling my diet and exercise, or I had to
ignore my body completely.</b> For awhile, I chose the latter, believing that
avoiding part of myself would allow me to regain the things I lost during my
stint with anorexia - a social life and the ability to focus on something
besides food, exercise, and my weight.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lhyaT2qPJdM/UZ1Fcnh2TYI/AAAAAAAAAFc/uk-1wf-lsgs/s1600/weight1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lhyaT2qPJdM/UZ1Fcnh2TYI/AAAAAAAAAFc/uk-1wf-lsgs/s320/weight1.jpg" width="274" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Mark Parisi Cartoon</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">I lived that way for many years, graduating from both high
school and college with this attitude. Finally, my perspective began to change
right after college when I lived with three women who loved food for how it
tasted, for what it did for their bodies, and for the energy it gave them.
Slowly my mindset changed and I began seeing food differently. At some point in
this journey, I began enjoying food again. I learned how to cook food I like to
eat. I learned how to eat food that would make my body feel better.<b> I learned
that food is a tool that my body uses to help maintain an active lifestyle.</b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>After 10 years of battling my own body, I can finally say I (mostly) like my body. I like how it looks, I like what it does for me, I like living in
it. </i>I've (again, mostly) stopped caring that my body isn't the ideal image of beauty. I've started putting health before the attempt to conform to someone else's standards.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">But this isn't exactly a happy ending.</span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Call it a <a href="http://first-world-problems.com/" target="_blank">first world problem</a> (and if you've missed out on this ironic way of talking about problems, just click on the link and get with the times!!), but <i>I've found it oddly
unsatisfying to be happy with my body.</i> After a decade frustration, I now find
myself wondering what all the fuss was about. Why in the world did I spend my
entire teenage life and my early twenties consumed with this superficial quest?</span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-TDy_oNbTXyw/UZ1D2D1tLRI/AAAAAAAAAFM/n7KHAkeLvUg/s1600/FWP.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-TDy_oNbTXyw/UZ1D2D1tLRI/AAAAAAAAAFM/n7KHAkeLvUg/s1600/FWP.png" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">knowyourmeme.com</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">In fact, I would absolutely call this weight obsession a <a href="http://www.nationsonline.org/oneworld/third_world_countries.htm" target="_blank">first world</a> problem.<i> First world, as in it disproportionately impacts people who have time and energy (and often money) to put into attaining (or attempting to attain) a particular figure.</i> People who have easy access to the media and feel pressured to look like the people they see in it. I know with absolute confidence that I'm not alone in my
tendency to be consumed by body image issues. This problem has spread
throughout first world countries (and beyond), sucking our time, our energy, and our
happiness.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Let me be clear that <b>I truly believe that taking care of
our bodies is essential for living a good life.</b> But where we go wrong is when
we mistake slender figures as a sign of health. While being thin can
absolutely be healthy for some, others must starve themselves (which is awfully
unhealthy) to achieve these same standards. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">We've forgotten that our bodies are all different. <b>We've
forgotten that diversity is a beautiful thing, that everyone looking the same, weighing the same, would be boring as hell.</b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">And, as a result, we end up trying to attain this one precise figure, <i>one that for a lot of people just isn't sustainable, life
giving, or even fulfilling. </i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">This attitude is absolutely everywhere I turn. Have you ever
listened to people after they finish a big meal? What words come out of their
mouths? "I shouldn't have eaten all that food." "Well, I'm going
to have to go work that off." "Why did you make me eat all of
that?" Or the even more unhealthy language, "I'm going to have to
skip dinner for a week now." </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>We've been taught that our bodies don't look like they
should and it leaves us feeling constantly guilty for enjoying food.</b> Rather
than focusing on how our bodies can be healthy so they work efficiently and
effectively, we are overwhelmed with media images of the same thin figure over
and over and over. We hear a constant chatter about weight all around us, we hear (thin) people talking about how fat they are, we see people judging others solely on the basis of their weight.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">As <a href="http://stylenews.peoplestylewatch.com/2013/05/15/abercrombie-boycott-anti-plus-size/" target="_blank">Abercrombie </a>showed us this month, we've been taught that
to have a certain body type is to be happy, cool, to be popular, and to have it all.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>But for those of us to whom a model's figure doesn't come
naturally, how can we possibly have it all if we're not taking care of our
bodies?</i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>So I ask you: what is health? How do you know when you're
healthy? How much effort have you put into attempting to achieve the perfect
body? Do you struggle to find the balance between treating your body well and
becoming consumed with food, exercise, etc.? </b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">I'd love to hear your thoughts.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Love,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Kelsey</span></div>
Kelseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01992373525787394564noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5975880234360265597.post-34698782313575803742013-05-12T16:28:00.000-05:002013-05-12T16:29:31.959-05:00Iron Man 3 and How to Survive Graduate School Finals<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">I just finished finals, which
consisted for two fifteenish page papers, two ten page papers, and two classes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Needless to say, I have very little to offer
in the intellect department this week, but I wanted to post something anyway as
a kind of brain detox.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So between this
and countless episodes of Boy Meets World, I am letting my brain relax a little
bit and not think about the apocalyptic components of Biblical texts and about how
people in Victorian America adapted the Gothic style of architecture to
Protestant values so it could become a part of their domestic Christianity.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I got mini-headache just typing that
sentence.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Anyway, the following post is
a two-parter, and neither section has really anything to do with the
other.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Why?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Because I said so, that’s why.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The first part is a short little review of <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Iron Man 3</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s short because I can’t make it long
without giving away spoilers, and it’s still so new that I am less confident
that everyone has seen it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The second
part of this post is a survival guide of sorts.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It’s a list of things to remember/do in order to survive graduate school
finals (though most of the list could be applied to any level of finals-taking-torment).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So, let us begin.</span><br />
<h3 class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Part One: Iron Man 3 Review</span></h3>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6-9GbClNoWo/UZAIKDHC7WI/AAAAAAAAAGc/mr6lG7AUKJs/s1600/iron-man-3-05.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6-9GbClNoWo/UZAIKDHC7WI/AAAAAAAAAGc/mr6lG7AUKJs/s320/iron-man-3-05.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">I’m not going to lie…I freaking
loved this movie.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve heard that it’s
been getting kind of mixed reviews, but I was blown away by it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not only was it epic, action-packed, with a
bit of romance, but it was also HILARIOUS!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>There are so many zingers in this movie (that Robert Downey Jr. delivers
perfectly, by the way), that I was laughing about as much as I was thinking, “Holy
shit, that’s awesome!” (in regards to explosive fight scenes, high-tech
badassness, and Downey Jr. getting thrown into various walls).</span></div>
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eQZWwxfuXCU/UZAImNnBXLI/AAAAAAAAAGk/GMc4_xsjUV0/s1600/imagesCA55TZS8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eQZWwxfuXCU/UZAImNnBXLI/AAAAAAAAAGk/GMc4_xsjUV0/s1600/imagesCA55TZS8.jpg" /></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">The movie has a different feel to
it than the first two and <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Avengers</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Tony Stark is dealing with a lot of deep,
personal stuff throughout the whole thing, and I think he is actually in the
suit less than the first two (but when he is in the suit, epicness
ensues).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not only does Tony have to deal
with his own issues, but he has to balance being a superhero with his
relationship with Pepper Potts, as well as track down an enemy he doesn’t even
know where to begin to find.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ben
Kingsley as the villain of the movie, the Mandarin, is wonderful, and he’s a
bad guy whose terror lies in what he represents…fear in something that you don’t
fully understand and can’t know what to expect from.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The gadgets that Tony has in this movie are
also really, really cool.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They range from
an electrified garden-glove, to the seemingly boundary-less J.A.R.V.I.S. we
have all come to know and love.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And of
course, there is the Hall of Armor, displaying all of the previous models of
the suit from the first two <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Iron Man</i>
movies as well as <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Avengers</i>, which
is just plain nostalgic-cool.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"></span><br />
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pQ-zHHdasnM/UZAI27fuRxI/AAAAAAAAAGs/a-ZmHhZR3I8/s1600/Iron-Man-3-Wallpaper-iron-man-3-33506136-2048-1152.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pQ-zHHdasnM/UZAI27fuRxI/AAAAAAAAAGs/a-ZmHhZR3I8/s320/Iron-Man-3-Wallpaper-iron-man-3-33506136-2048-1152.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">There is a lot of symbolism in
this movie, playing into the deeper issues for the characters.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Again, I can’t really go into detail without
giving away significant moments in the movie, so you’re just going to have to
trust me on this one.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Overall, though, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Iron Man 3</i> is less “look at all of the
neat stuff I can do because I’m a superhero” and more “what are some of the consequences
of this hero-stuff?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Granted, I think <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Avengers </i>is still the best movie
Marvel has put out so far, but really, how do you beat something that’s pretty
much every Marvel movie (literally) rolled into one sweet package?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There are also a lot of references in <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Iron Man 3</i> to the events of <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Avengers </i>(some of those events being
the cause of Tony’s inner turmoil), so it’s a really smooth transition between
the films and continuation of the overarching storyline shared by all of these
movies of a larger universe with extraordinary individuals existing within it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In summary, go see <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Iron Man 3</i>, or don’t be cool.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"></span><br />
<h3>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Part II: Erin B.’s Tips to
Surviving Graduate School Finals (Or Other Levels of Finals-Taking-Torment)<o:p></o:p></span></h3>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">1.<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Plan ahead</span></b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know, I know, you’ve heard it before, and
it’s easier said than done, but seriously…if you are staring down a week in
which you have more than forty pages of paper-writing due, you need to plan
that week out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There are only so many
hours in a day, and only so much time you can consecutively spend staring at a
computer screen before your eyes cross or you pass out.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">2.<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Go where you can
be productive</span></b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If, when studying at home, you are at risk of
easily giving into temptation and watching four episodes of <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Boy Meets World </i>back-to-back as a “study
break,” then you need to get the hell out of your house.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Personally, I found I could put up a better
fight surrounded by my studious peers who could make me feel guilty enough to
actually focus on my work.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">3.<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Caffeine,
caffeine, caffeine</span></b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This one is pretty self-explanatory.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If you try to avoid drinking caffeinated
anything in your everyday life, good for you…but all bets are off during
finals.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">4.<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Nap in public
places</span></b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If you need a nap, I suggest taking one in
the library lobby or somewhere equally accessible to anybody.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Why?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Because then you won’t be tempted to keep sleeping after your 20 minutes
are up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Every time I try to take just a
30 minute nap at home, I’m lucky to be up after two hours.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Avoid naps where no one can find you.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">5.<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Don’t let your
social life die</span></b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This one may surprise some people, because it
might make more sense if I said do let your social life die.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But no, your social life doesn’t have to <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">die</i>, it just has to get mono and not
make out or swap water bottles with anyone for a little while.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Interacting with people is fine, healthy
even, so that you don’t become a zombie-shut-in who forgets how to actually
talk out-loud.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">6.<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Watch what you
eat</span></b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Try to consume a least one thing during the
day that isn’t going to leave you hyped-up on sugar and caffeine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Remember, your body still has to be able to
function once the week is over.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">7.<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Don’t listen to
the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Les Miserables </i>soundtrack while
trying to write a paper</span></b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Just don’t.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">8.<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Protect your
space</span></b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If there are undergrads filling up the space
in your library, don’t feed them or they’ll come back.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">9.<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Take dance party
study breaks</span></b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Just do.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">10.<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">All’s fair in love and war…and finals week</span></b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Finals weeks are not like any other time of
the year, so don’t think that you will be able to function like they are.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Writing quality can plummet, friends can turn
into enemies, and harmless undergrads can seem like the most annoying things in
the world.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But no worries…it will all
balance back out once that final exam or paper is done. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10065741913721435892noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5975880234360265597.post-44424672285102644482013-04-23T16:34:00.000-05:002013-05-10T15:23:36.313-05:00Souls and Stories: Identity, Batman and Doctor Who<br />
<div class="p1">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9QWTc7M89BI/UXb7gwncZsI/AAAAAAAAAT0/9wdXSgVi2pk/s1600/batman+family.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9QWTc7M89BI/UXb7gwncZsI/AAAAAAAAAT0/9wdXSgVi2pk/s200/batman+family.jpg" width="200" /></a><span class="s1">I read comic books. So far they have not been mentioned on this blog and thus far a cisgendered male has not written here either, so today I break two molds and hope to begin a discussion on identity - who we are, how we define ourselves, how others define us, and what all that means, if anything. But bear with me, because to get started we have to talk about comic books. When I was in grad school I rekindled my childhood love for superheroes by reading Batman, Batwoman, Batgirl, Nightwing, Red Robin, and every other comic featuring the Batfamily. The mythology found in comics, the ethical struggles that oscillate between nihilism and teleology, the question of evil and the hope of a better future mirrored much of my seminary education; comics were just more fun to read than Augustine’s Confessions. I was never much of a Superman person simply because we all know that in a fight Batman would win, every time. Batman, Batwoman, Batgirl et al. have had better writers, artists, story lines, movies, along with the best villains in comics, not to mention the GLAAD award wining lesbian hero, Batwoman, aka Kate Kane, and the first openly trans person in mainline comics (spoilers though, it was in the recent Batgirl 19, you’ll have to read it yourself).</span></div>
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However, it has been Superman’s identities as Clark Kent and Superman that have been philosophized over, and I blame Kill Bill 2 for popularizing that. <iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/PdWF7kd1tNo?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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What sets Superman apart is the alter ego that according to Bill all other heroes have. Batman is really Bruce Wayne. In Bill’s line of thought it is Bruce that becomes Batman when he puts on the costume, yet underneath it all he is still Bruce. Superman, on the other hand, is always Superman and the costume that he wears is that of Clark Kent, the bumbling, lacking confidence and somewhat unreliable journalist. Dressing like a human with a suit and tie (without as much class as JT mind you) is the costume that covers Superman. Bill assumes that there is within us and Superman a self, an identity that is lasting, something that makes us us, something that we do not become but are born with. Even if we sometimes wear a cape and tights with our underwear on the outside to cover our identity up, the core of our identity remains nevertheless.</div>
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<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">I took a lot of philosophy and religion classes in college and suffice it to say, college ruined my life. The seemingly simple realties of existence were no longer as effortless to understand as they had once been; even the complexities of our existence that I had learned to live with through my adolescence in Iowa were now more convoluted than I imagined.</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">I remember learning the phrase, “Cogito ergo sum”, I think, therefore, I am. My professor, who came to class with neat and combed hair that became more and more uncouth with each new thought said to us, “I am a thinking thing, a thing that thinks, but I cannot know that you think and you cannot know I think. I think, I am, you, I’m not so sure about.”</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">I think, and so I am, you think, I assume, and so you are. But what exactly are we? What is this I; who are you? Does Bruce Wayne become Batman when he changes clothes, or through the course of his life has Bruce transitioned into Batman and is only, truly, himself when fighting crime on the streets of Gotham? Is there a core to our being, some immutable essence to us that makes us us or is the self the result of approximately 100 trillion cells functioning together while electrons fire to and fro, connecting synapses that create an illusion of consciousness and a semblance of the self?</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">You may have noticed that most paragraphs have began with “I” statements, “I read”, “I took”, “I remember”, and “I think” and if you’ve made it this far I hope you are wondering who does Nate think he is? How dare he write in such a self aggrandizing and narcissistic style on Her/Story about comic books and Kill Bill! Well, I am a straight, white, middle-class, United Methodist pastor currently living in Fairfield, Iowa. I have two sisters, one older and one younger making me the middle child, not only of siblings but of generations, found in the space between but also within generations x and y. Currently I have two cats, even though I had dogs as a kid. I grew up with both of my biological parents and they are still living, though none of my grandparents are. I am in a loving and life-giving relationship that is, for now, long distance. I like camping and I think manicures feel great. Whenever I shave I use a preshave oil and a badger brush to apply shaving cream followed by a moisturizer under eye cream because I like how it makes me feel and look. Whiskey may be my favorite drink, especially ryes, but when I go out to a bar I usually get a Guinness. Most days I go to the gym. My Myers Briggs personality type is INFJ. I am a right handed and a progressive, feminist, liberation theologian with an appreciation of queer theory that reads comic books, but you already knew that. I play video games from time to time and care more than a person in their late twenties probably should about their social media presence. These attributes point to aspects of my personality and identity, yet on their own, none of them makes me me. Some of these traits are shared with many other persons, others are not. In the realm of personality typing INFJ is the least common, shared by maybe 5% of humanity, yet within this 5% exists innumerable possibilities of personality and definitions of identity. Whatever I am, however my identity is found and developed, both through my own self-definition and the ways that others define me, is found in the totality of these, for lack of a better word, things.</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">All of these things mean something to me, and you, regardless of whether you share a trait or attribute with me or not, you understand the word as a representation of said thing. Our understandings, however similar, may be different. Take the word, “Queer.” In an essay on queer theory Annamarie Jagose wrote, “If a potentially infinite coalition of sexual identities, practices, discourses and sites might be identified as queer, what it betokens is no so much liberal pluralism as a negotiation of the very concept of identity itself...queer is less an identity than a <i>critique</i> of identity.” (emphasis was the authors). For myself, queer is a continual critique of what I understand to be normative, a way of embracing myself as a masculine and feminine person while remembering that masculine and feminine are socially constructed. For others this may not be the case and probably isn’t. Some persons that claim queer for themselves my not see my life as queer at all. My identity is not the same as it is for others that identify as queer, especially as I understand myself to be a cisgendered male that is attracted to females.</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">For example, contrast my identity and understanding of queer with that of Jack Halberstrom. </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://chronicle.com/img/photos/biz/photo_17509_portrait_wide.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://chronicle.com/img/photos/biz/photo_17509_portrait_wide.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
Jack is a professor of English and she is also the director of the Center for Feminist Research at USC. He teaches courses in queer studies, gender theory, literature, art, film and has written many books, recently on “Gaga Feminism”. Now, I switched back and forth between the pronouns “she” and “he” originally for Jack, but from now on Jack will be he because as he said in an interview, “You know, people are kind of calling me he nowadays. I’m going with that.” While Jack goes with he, he is also known by a few folks as Judith, others call him Jude and Jack has found comfort in the mixing of names, pronouns and identities, allowing them to be what they are. Jack identifies himself as butch but readily admits that when he started using the term in the 1990’s it meant something to him that it may not mean to people now. There are assumptions about “butch” that seem to point to some masculine ideal, yet an ideal creates a normative classification where there is one real butch identity at the center with other butches on the margins only attempting to be truly butch. The idea and identity of butch has been colonized for some, though for Jack butch is a term and idea without a center. This is similar to Jack’s gender identity. Jack calls himself a “blanket” saying that he is blank in terms of gender and just added the “et” to it. Jack’s queer identity if found in the space between Judith and Jack, where masculinity and femininity meet and overlap, separate and dance together in whatever ways he wants them to and whatever ways feel right and speak to his identity at that moment in time and space. There are some similarities between Jack and myself, yet we are nevertheless different when it comes to our understanding of what it means to act on our queer identities. Jack sums up why this is ok, but still complicated, “Nobody should accept one standard way of saying things, but I want this to be clear too, that at the same time you can’t have endless varieties of people naming themselves, we do live in a world of categories. Some of these categories have contemporary currency and some don’t.”<br />
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">It has almost become cliche in postmodern conversations of identity to view ourselves as the sum of our social relationships and to use these relationships to define ourselves in such a way that does not present one stand way of saying things. We are the culmination of our DNA combined with the interactions we have had, a mix of nature and nurture, we are the persons and situations that we have loved, hated and felt indifferent about. Who we are can be understood through the lenses of our socio-economic status, gender, sexuality, education, ethnicity, and so on. For me, it is jarringly peaceful to realize that I have been, and continually am, shaped and developed by forces beyond myself. I am, whatever I am, becoming who I am and will be through this ever growing sum of social relationships. Identity, it seems, is about becoming, developing and changing.</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">But what of the narrator of our story, the internal editor that seeks to make sense of our social relationships, that attempts to integrate the new experiences of who we are becoming with who we have been? What is it that creates continuity and stability in this ever changing and ever becoming self? To make sense of this I have to consult the Doctor.</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">Doctor Who has been around for 50 years now and the Doctor has lived through a number of transitions and changes through the centuries of his life. The Doctor’s body changes with every new incarnation, as does the Doctor’s style and personality. My favorite Doctor is 11 and I am partial to Amy and Rory as the best companions ever, plus, bow ties are cool. </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Throughout all of the incarnations, the various changes, the transitions from being known for wearing a long and multicolored scarf to an overcoat with a suit and chuck taylors to bow ties and a fez, something of the Doctor has remained constant. The Doctor is always the Doctor. In the recent episode, “The Rings of Akhenaten” this continuity through change was witnessed. The Doctor, and his new mysterious companion Clara Oswin Oswald, save a young girl from a Sun that is worshiped as a God. The “old God” sometimes called “grandfather” feeds on the souls of others, which in this episode means their stories. It is our stories, our memories, that shape us and make us who we are.<br />
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">Our identity, the essence of who we are, may be found in who we have been, the stories that shape us, and all of the experiences that bring us to where we find ourselves now. It is the story of the Doctor, the stories of those hundreds of years and adventures that has made the Doctor who he his and the memory of these stories, the chapters that keep getting added, create and continue his ever evolving identity and soul.</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<div class="p3">
<br /></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">We all have a unique story to tell, and in it we come to know our ever becoming identity. I may not know who I am, but I know who I have been and I have a sense of what I want to become, what stories I want to live. Memory can be a fickle thing, but without it, who would we be?</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">So who are you? What story will you tell and how will your soul, that spirit of you (that I still believe in even if I can never exactly say what that ineffable essence is) that creates continuities between all your stories, edit, revise, and become who you are invited to be?</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p3">
<span class="s4">Essay on Queer theory and academia: <a href="http://www.australianhumanitiesreview.org/archive/Issue-Dec-1996/jagose.html"><span class="s3">http://www.australianhumanitiesreview.org/archive/Issue-Dec-1996/jagose.html</span></a></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p3">
<span class="s3">Interview with Jack Halberstam: <a href="http://www.lambdaliterary.org/interviews/02/01/jack-halberstam-queers-create-better-models-of-success/">http://www.lambdaliterary.org/interviews/02/01/jack-halberstam-queers-create-better-models-of-success/</a></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00110043866187650304noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5975880234360265597.post-37629125858619100832013-04-16T11:36:00.002-05:002013-04-16T13:55:46.547-05:00Running: A Love/Story<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">This piece is going to take two, count them two,
disclaimers. </span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Disclaimer 1: This story was written prior to, but edited
after, the Boston Marathon explosions. The timing was a coincidence, but I
decided to publish the story anyway, hoping that it doesn't communicate any
sort of insensitivity, but rather the incredible sense of community people can develop by doing the same thing at the same time. My thoughts and prayers are with those affected by
yesterday's events.</span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Disclaimer 2: Unlike most pieces written on Her/Story, this one
lacks a thesis statement, a conclusion, and maybe even an argument. I've taken the name of our blog seriously and told a story, modeled off of a couple of storytelling venues that I adore: <a href="http://feeds.themoth.org/themothpodcast" target="_blank">The Moth</a>
and <a href="http://topics.nytimes.com/top/features/style/fashionandstyle/columns/modernlove/index.html" target="_blank">Modern Love</a>. Check them out!</span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I was 19 and a month into training for my first marathon when
my grandfather, one of the best men I have ever known, died suddenly. I spent
the next several months running in the midst of my confusion, trying to process my devastation, attempting to
grasp what to me felt like true injustice.<i> When my training ended, I completed the marathon, patted
myself on the back, mentally checked "Marathon" off my bucket list,
and stopped running.</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eh0CHqIO4fo/UWypa92grxI/AAAAAAAAAEg/5zxOBFpYLWI/s1600/Finish.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eh0CHqIO4fo/UWypa92grxI/AAAAAAAAAEg/5zxOBFpYLWI/s320/Finish.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Marathon Finish, Des Moines, IA 2008</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Four years later, I would move back to Iowa to take care of my
grandmother who had just been diagnosed with terminal cancer. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There's this saying in life that you should live like you
could die tomorrow. It took Grandma and I an entire month to get over the grief
and realize that Grandma needed to stop thinking she was going to slip off any
moment.<b> She needed to die like she was going to live tomorrow.</b> And me? <i>I needed
to get out of the house more.</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So Grandma and I started talking walks and I started
training for another marathon.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It's been eight months and Grandma has officially outlived
the time she was given by her doctor. And me? I'm still living in her house and I'm still running. I
stay with her Sunday night through Friday afternoon, and other family members
take care of her on the weekends. This means I get to spend my weekends visiting
friends all over the Midwest.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Last weekend, I went to Kansas City to watch several friends
run a half marathon. I was standing at mile 9, cheering like crazy for these
random people that I didn't know, waiting for my friends to run by when I was
absolutely struck by<i> how amazing this whole thing was.</i> Here was person after
person running by me who had dedicated part of their life to doing exactly what
I was dedicating part of my life to doing: running. <b>Running a long freaking
way.</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-djgqZMxz8tM/UWyqVr4WJYI/AAAAAAAAAEw/jJwZwDBnyVg/s1600/DSCN6510.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-djgqZMxz8tM/UWyqVr4WJYI/AAAAAAAAAEw/jJwZwDBnyVg/s320/DSCN6510.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Half Marathon Starting Line, Kansas City, MO 2013</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There was a woman on the other side of the street cheering
for the runners with her two kids, and I knew immediately she was a runner.
There's this thing about runners that's just like with lesbians, they don't
have to be running down the street or holding their girlfriends' hands
(respectively),<b> if you're one of them you tend to know who the other ones are.</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So this lady and I are cheering loudly, and at some point
the slower set of runners run by us and I'm watching them, yelling my guts out,
and these people start looking at me, right in the
eye, and saying "thank you." Thanking me. In the middle of their 13 mile runs. And I flash back to my 16 mile run
the day before when I could have really used someone at mile 9 yelling for me,
and I start yelling my guts out for these strangers, <i>yelling because I get it, because I've
literally been in their shoes, literally felt their blisters, literally wanted
to quit just like they're looking like they want to quit right this very
moment. </i><b>And that's when the tears start flowing down my face, quite
unexpectedly, and I'm surprised because, although I'm both a runner and a crier, they don't normally fit
into the same section of my life.</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But here's the truth about people like me who take at least
10 minutes to run a mile: we don't run long distance to beat the person running
next to us. We don't run long distance for exercise either, because<i> if we
wanted to get that we'd just run 5ks. </i>No, no, for people like us there's
something much deeper at stake. There's something about identity, something
about seeking ourselves going on. Maybe we're running from something, maybe we're running to something, or maybe we have something to prove. <i>But the truth is you can't spend hour after hour hitting the pavement
without having to confront yourself even if only just about, at bare minimum, how
freaking tired your legs are. </i>Maybe for these reasons, I have dated people who are runners almost exclusively over the years.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xCkze_ifFE0/UWypvLxFzBI/AAAAAAAAAEo/hQh5dTZ9iaQ/s1600/Marathon+08.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xCkze_ifFE0/UWypvLxFzBI/AAAAAAAAAEo/hQh5dTZ9iaQ/s320/Marathon+08.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My very own cheering squad, Des Moines, IA 2008</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I spend an hour cheering at mile 9 and then I move on. I head to the
finish and I stand right next to the mile 13 marker, a tenth of a mile from the finish line. And I
notice immediately that no one next to me is cheering. They're standing,
watching quietly. And I make a quick decision to give the runners every bit of
energy I can muster. Suddenly I'm screaming; I'm clapping so hard I have to
take breaks because my arms get so tired. I'm saying things like "You're
almost there." "The end is in sight!" "Power through!"
But what I really want to be saying to these people is<i> "Look! Do you see it? You
accomplished your goal! You did the thing you wanted to do, the thing you spent hours training for, and even though you
feel like total shit right now, you have conquered this run." </i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
<b>
But the words won't come out of my mouth. </b>They get stuck in my throat because
by now I'm crying, full on crying, because I feel so proud of these perfect
strangers. So I keep yelling the one-liners, praying they understand that I am
mentally with them, one hundred and ten percent. And these people are looking up from the pavement at me, and I swear they are seeing my whole self. I swear they're seeing things in me I didn't even know existed. And a couple of them, even at the very end of this whole freaking race, tell me thank you as they run, sometimes stumbling, by.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">My last friend finishes the race and still I can't
pull myself away. These people have come too far, I keep telling myself, not to
get cheered for in their last tenth of a mile. So I stand there, clapping,
yelling, and crying, until I am totally exhausted (which is funny because I'm not even running). And finally I slowly walk
away to meet my friends, the only three people at this race that I actually
know. Leaving the race seems so strange though, because in this moment I'm feeling like I'm walking away from
a crowd full of friends I've known my whole entire life.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Love Always,</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Kelsey</span>Kelseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01992373525787394564noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5975880234360265597.post-84200451435189184412013-04-11T12:34:00.000-05:002013-04-11T12:34:19.310-05:00Questioning Christianity<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">I call
myself a <b>questioning Christian</b>.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">I call
myself a questioning Christian because I don’t know what else to call myself. I
don’t have a label that fits. I’m not, “spiritual but not religious.” I’m not an atheist.
I’m not agnostic. I believe in God most of the time. I think Jesus was a
righteous dude (please hear this in the secretary’s voice from “Ferris
Bueller’s Day Off”).</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">I don’t
believe Christianity is the only way to what we call, “heaven.” I don’t know
what happens to us when we die, though I am confident that it is good. I don’t
believe in hell. I don’t believe that religion is what makes people good (or bad). <b>I believe religion is imperfect because people are
imperfect.</b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">I love going
to traditional services at church. I love going to Catholic and Lutheran
services because they are grand and romantic and beautiful. I love that I will
generally know what to say and when to say it. I love the repetition. I love
being a part of something greater than myself. I love having a community.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<o:p><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">.....</span></o:p></div>
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<o:p><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></o:p></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">The reason I
call myself a questioning Christian is because <b>other Christians drive me
crazy.</b></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">It drives me
crazy when Christians spout hate in the name of, “loving the sinner, hating the
sin.” It drives me </span><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">crazy</span><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"> when Christians ban people from coming to church or
when they make people feel unwelcome. It drives me </span><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">crazy</span><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"> when Christians claim
homosexuality is a sin, but fail to acknowledge that Leviticus 20:9 says that
whoever cusses at their parents deserves death; that these Christians decide
that one line in the Old Testament is enough proof to discriminate, but the
rest of that chapter doesn’t apply.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">It drives me </span><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">crazy</span><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"> that Christians claim anti-Islamic hate, but conveniently forget about all
the damage and death we have caused over the years. It drives me </span><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">crazy</span><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"> when
Christians are manipulative; when they pretend to be nice to get you to come to
church with them, or to give them enough “bonus points” to get into heaven. It
drives me </span><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">crazy</span><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"> that even though the Bible tells us not to be judgmental,
Christians are - without a doubt - the most judgmental people I know.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">It drives me </span><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">crazy</span><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"> when I hear about churches who brainwash their congregants; who tell them
that the answers to their difficult life questions are easy, who give answers
out like candy on Halloween and get angry or dismissive when students in Sunday
school ask questions. When churches tell their members who to vote for, or what
“issues” are important or not. When churches spread fear instead of love, or
say that a neighbor church is too liberal or conservative. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">When Christians
pressure their friends to come to church with them and ostracize them if they
chose not to. When Christians claim to be pro-life while <a href="http://herstoryvoices.blogspot.com/2013/04/a-little-pocket-of-hope.html" target="_blank">ignoring everyone suffering outside of the womb</a>, starving or unwanted. When Christians judge
their own brothers and sisters in Christ for who they date, how they date, or how modest their clothes are. </span><br />
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">When Christians claim that their particular way is the only way. When Christians claim that Jesus said condoms are
bad. When Christians cite Bible verses like rain drops in a storm, yet haven’t
learned about the social context of the text and have no desire to. When I’m
told that I am sinful for being educated on religious matters instead of
rejoicing in ignorance.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">I’ve been
told that I’m not a Christian because I don’t believe the Bible is the literal
Word of God, but a book written by human men who were inspired by God. I’ve
been told I’m not a Christian because I don’t believe in Hell. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>I have never
told anyone that they were not a Christian.</i></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Sometimes it seems like I agree with atheists and agnostics more than other Christians. Sometimes when
Jake and I have religious discussions, he will say something negative about the
Christian church, look over at me, and apologize. I tell him there’s no need to
apologize. Whatever he’s said, I’ve thought about or said myself.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Through all
of this, <b>I don’t want to stop calling myself a Christian. </b></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">It’s not
that I care what people will say or think if I said I was agnostic. My mom
would be upset, but I have already forever disappointed her for loving pixie
cuts better than long hair, so I’m sure she would get over it. I have a lot of
Christian friends, but I also have a lot of friends who don’t believe in God at
all.. <b>I just really, really love The Church.</b></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">I love what
The Church does for the poor. I love that The Church advocates for people who
have nothing, who go hungry, who feel alone. I love reading the Old and New
Testaments and finding something new each time I pick up the pages. I loved
being a religion major and thinking critically about these things, not just
accepting them as Truth and moving on. I love that the core of Christianity is radical love! </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">I love that
the ELCA church embraces doubt and questioning, because without them, faith
would be flimsy and weak. This church is the reason that I don’t worry about
questioning my faith, because I know that every time I come back to it and say,
“Yes, I am a Christian after all!” my faith has just become that must stronger
than someone who has never doubted.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>I love my
friends who are Christians, because they remind me every day that although
Christians (aka people) are imperfect, there are many Christians out in the
world who do their best to be understanding and loving. </b>I love that <a href="http://herstoryvoices.blogspot.com/2013/03/here-it-is-my-inevitable-catholic-post_3.html" target="_blank">Erin Broich wrote about why she loves the Catholic church even when she doesn’t always agree with its practices or teachings.</a> I love that when Erin Guzman was trying
to decide on a denomination, she made a giant pro-con list on our wall. I love
that Hannah is joyful about her faith, but is okay with questioning it. I love that Kelsey is
thoughtful and curious about her faith and doesn’t judge me when I’m confused.
I love everyone who went to RLC Worship last year on Wednesday nights and made
me feel at home when I was fully prepared not to. I love that we hugged during
the passing of the peace. I love that people of all backgrounds and faiths came
to worship, and that I didn’t always agree with them.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">I call
myself a questioning Christian because I don’t know what else to call myself.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>Maybe what
fits me better is a hopeful Christian</b>; someone who sees how imperfect and awful
Christians can be, but also sees a light at the end of a tunnel. Even
while I see Christians who are judgmental, ignorant and cruel, I similarly see
Christians who are gentle, kind and loving and give me hope for the future of
Our Church. I have hope that I will want to associate myself, unapologetically
and without shame, with Christians again. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">For now, I’m
holding on by faith.</span><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><b>xo Madie</b></span></div>
</div>
<!--EndFragment-->Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16400621027250890268noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5975880234360265597.post-56826358241447348862013-04-04T16:27:00.000-05:002013-04-04T16:27:17.260-05:00A Little Pocket of Hope<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Sometimes the world sucks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That’s just a fact of life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And sometimes the world sucks so much that
you are on the verge of losing all hope that there is anything in it that can give you any kind sense that humanity can do better.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
You feel an almost bone-crushing despair at the state of the world and start to think, "What's the point?" when it comes to fighting for what you believe is right. </span>But then, something happens.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It
can be a big something, like the Supreme Court finally hearing cases regarding
same-sex marriage in the United States, acknowledging that this isn't something that is just going to go away, but is an issue of equality that cannot and should not be ignored.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Or, it can be something little, like the opening of a pregnancy center in
a small town in Iowa that is actually trying to practices what it preaches about
pro-life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s the second hopeful
something that I want to focus one in this post.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But before I actually begin, I have a confession to
make.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">I’m pro-life. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-F7vmiX1cQAg/UV3NUvDtugI/AAAAAAAAAGE/T1z0V2HzOhs/s1600/2639531-wait_what_meme_rage_face.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="173" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-F7vmiX1cQAg/UV3NUvDtugI/AAAAAAAAAGE/T1z0V2HzOhs/s200/2639531-wait_what_meme_rage_face.jpg" width="200" /></a><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-E_VD0DcXc2Y/UV2i-hmeTZI/AAAAAAAAAFY/L7BUtd6IYg4/s1600/29-shocked-patrick.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-E_VD0DcXc2Y/UV2i-hmeTZI/AAAAAAAAAFY/L7BUtd6IYg4/s200/29-shocked-patrick.jpg" width="192" /></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Your reaction is probably:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">----------------or-------------------></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">There, it's out there. Now, before you jump on my case
about feminist (which I do consider myself to be one) ideals and choices, let
me actually explain what I <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">mean </i>when
I say that I am pro-life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What being
pro-life means to me (and what I think it should mean for anyone who claims to
be it) is that I am pro-guaranteeing a quality of life for everyone, which
includes at least the basic comfort and needs of survival without question, as
well as preserving lives.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Pro-life
should not only mean anti-abortion, but should include being anti-death penalty
and pro-affordable health care for all, whatever that looks like.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For me (personally) it also means being
pro-contraception in order to offer a better quality of life for all people
(but that is a whole issue in and of itself that I won’t get into here).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It should (for everyone again) also mean
having a respect for all the lives around you, no matter the gender, race,
religion, sexuality, or class, and working to bring about a world that isn’t
going to ignore people when they cry out for help.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"></span><br />
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9jXJPRkC32c/UV3K1F0CCZI/AAAAAAAAAFo/rwqiYmd2wLo/s1600/todd-akin-meme.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9jXJPRkC32c/UV3K1F0CCZI/AAAAAAAAAFo/rwqiYmd2wLo/s1600/todd-akin-meme.jpg" /></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Sadly for many, it seems being
pro-life <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">has </i>been reduced to merely
meaning anti-abortion.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Don’t get me
wrong, I’m not pro-abortion, but I understand it as an unfortunate solution
that has developed because of a much deeper problem within society.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That problem is how our society approaches
sex and sexuality, and specifically when attaching it to women and women’s
health.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Let’s be honest, when a U.S.
Senator, an individual who is educated and in the public forum, makes a claim
saying women can’t get pregnant through “legitimate rape”, you know something
really fucked-up is going on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That’s
about the time society as a whole should look at itself and say, “Hmmm…this is
a problem.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We should fix this.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Do we actually <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">know </i>what we are talking about anymore?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When people say that women get abortions
because they just don’t want the baby, period, they are straight up wrong.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yes, some abortions happen for that reason, but some happen because of rape or health, and a
lot more happen because a woman (usually a young one) makes a mistake. She and her partner didn’t really understand how much complexity there is in having
sex, and then she didn’t have the resources or the support to do anything but
terminate the pregnancy because society just decided that, “Your mess, you fix
it”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So while I am not necessarily
pro-abortion (and I honestly don’t think many of my strong, independent,
pro-choice feminist female friends think that abortion, at its root, is a <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">good </i>thing), I am pro-let’s-actually-look-at-these-issues-bringing-women-fully-into-the-conversation-so-we-can-figure-out-what-really-needs-to-happen-in-our-society-so-that-this-doesn’t-<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">need</i>-to-be-an-option-and-oh-yeah-Jesus.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"></span></i><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-niLff1CqpW8/UV3LRkUgfPI/AAAAAAAAAFw/UZ1NsAR3SfI/s1600/jesus+tomb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a> </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8DVGkjpCpxA/UV3L6BfAMnI/AAAAAAAAAF4/bkNY6f5HPKQ/s1600/jesus+tomb+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8DVGkjpCpxA/UV3L6BfAMnI/AAAAAAAAAF4/bkNY6f5HPKQ/s320/jesus+tomb+2.jpg" width="227" /></a></div>
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Oh
no, she brought Jesus into it</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Yeah, I did.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> I went there. </span>You want to know
why?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Because this is an issue religious
people tend to have a lot to say about.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I get it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m religious, I care
about the issue, and I have some stuff to say about it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What often happens, though, is that Churches,
religious organizations, and the people who are apart of them focus their
pro-life beliefs <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">only </i>on being
anti-abortion.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But the actual problem
doesn’t go away when the abortion clinic shuts down.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If you’re going to preach it, you have got to
be prepared with something else to offer instead.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That is why when I cracked open my paper from
back home the other day (yes, I get my hometown paper…shut up), I was pleasantly
surprised to find an article about the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Cornerstone
for Life Pregnancy Resource Center </i>that has just recently opened. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">It’s a small operation so far,
but hopes to expand its network of care within the near future.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Currently, the center offers pregnancy tests
and counseling, and is forming counseling ministry for those women who have had
abortions and seek such an outlet for their feelings towards the decision.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>They also hope to partner with an adoption center, which gave me a bit of personal happiness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>There are a lot more things this center hopes to accomplish as it grows,
but what it is ultimately offering is a support system.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is a place for women who are unexpectedly
pregnant, and don’t necessarily want to have to go the abortion route, to go
and be a part of a community of people they can relate to and receive support
from.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While I don’t know every detail
about the center, just its existence gives me hope.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It shows that there are people in the world
who aren’t just looking for a band-aid solution, but recognize a need for much
more intentional involvement in solving the bigger problem.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And they are doing it while maintaining their
faith, by not just preaching it but by actually going out and acting on it in a
way that could be beneficial to society at large.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I pray that more religious people and
Churches who preach the message of pro-life can look to this example of active
faith.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That through this relatively
small thing our world can get just a little bit better…a little more hopeful.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Does it give you a little more hope?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Let me know what you think.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Bye for now!<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Erin B.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10065741913721435892noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5975880234360265597.post-33958255163836012652013-03-14T21:18:00.002-05:002013-03-14T21:52:13.693-05:00What’s in a Name?Recently, a <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/jonathan-jackson/why-i-changed-my-last-nam_b_2855084.html" target="_blank">few articles</a> have been written on the topic of
<a href="http://www.guardian.co.uk/commentisfree/2013/mar/07/women-stop-changing-your-name-when-married?CMP=twt_gu" target="_blank">women changing or not changing their last names</a> upon marriage. I have long
questioned the same system. <br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When I dated men, I always asked their opinion on the topic,
partially because I knew <i>I could never be with someone who expected me to take
his name</i>. But the truth is, even with the feminist spirit alive and well in
this country, <b>the majority of women still take their husbands’ names</b>. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qTGMoMi751g/UUKCor4UUkI/AAAAAAAAAEI/UXTVtHCyDj4/s1600/hello.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qTGMoMi751g/UUKCor4UUkI/AAAAAAAAAEI/UXTVtHCyDj4/s320/hello.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span id="irc_ho" style="background-color: #222222; color: #d6d6d6; cursor: pointer; font-family: arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px; margin-right: -2px; padding-right: 2px; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; white-space: nowrap;"><a class="irc_itl" data-ved="0CAQQjB0" href="http://thenextweb.com/socialmedia/2011/07/20/the-ceo-of-me-10-personal-online-branding-tips/" id="irc_hol" style="background-color: #222222; color: #1122cc; cursor: pointer; font-family: arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; white-space: nowrap;">thenextweb.com</a></span></td></tr>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
The obvious reason that women take men’s last names makes
sense to me: <i>if you want to share a last name with your partner, picking one
name is logical</i>. I’m not a big fan of hyphenating names because, as one of
the above articles points out, it’s only good for one generation. If someone with
a hyphenated name marries another person with a hyphenated name, what do they
do?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In my experience, even couples who keep their own names upon
marriage still give their children, if they have children, the husband’s last
name.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
At some point I realized that when a person signs a marriage
license, she or he can declare whatever new name she or he chooses. Based on
this information, I decided if I ever got married I would legally change my
name to <b>Pink Purple Crockpot</b>, as a middle finger to the whole system (and also because it sounds awesome).<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So when I began dating women, this line of thinking got more
interesting. First, I decided Pink Purple Crockpot just couldn't work for me.<b>
Also, I no longer have the privilege of choosing whether or not I want to play
into this name changing system.</b> There is no room for two women –
there’s no man’s name to take. <i>Making decisions about this tradition became,
for me, more than just a fun way to combat patriarchy; it became an actual
problem that requires a sensible solution. </i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Call me a romantic, but I have a real desire to share a last
name with my Hypothetical Future Partner. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ki2oWc0QuYM/UUKDQKshzyI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/_9-D2pc7Slo/s1600/rose.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="151" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ki2oWc0QuYM/UUKDQKshzyI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/_9-D2pc7Slo/s200/rose.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span id="irc_ho" style="background-color: #222222; color: #d6d6d6; cursor: pointer; font-family: arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px; margin-right: -2px; padding-right: 2px; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; white-space: nowrap;"><a class="irc_itl" data-ved="0CAQQjB0" href="http://blog.glamourdrops.com/2011/05/if-rose-by-any-other-name-would-smell.html" id="irc_hol" style="background-color: #222222; color: #1122cc; cursor: pointer; font-family: arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; white-space: nowrap;">blog.glamourdrops.com</a></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
For me, <b>if my partner or I picked either of our names for
both of us to share, the decision would feel symbolic of our relationship.</b> If I
took my Hypothetical Future Partner’s name, would it mean she has more power in
our relationship? That she wears the pants? That she’s the man? <i>That she won
the coin flip?</i> If she took mine, how would I feel about asking her to switch? And,
given the hope that my Hypothetical Future Partner and I both have good
relationships with our families, how could either of us decide to leave our
family names for the others?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It’s interesting being a woman dating a woman, because we've both been socialized into the assumption that our last names would someday
change. From a young age, it’s acceptable, even encouraged, for a girl to start
doodling Mrs. <i>Name-of-crush-here</i> on her notebook. (And that’s to say nothing of a
culture that asks women but not men to name their marital status simply by the
title in front of their last names.)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So here I am, in a system that stems from a tradition that
has no place for me and my woman loving ways, wondering what I’ll do with my
name if I ever get married, knowing that even that simple thing – marriage – is
a thing only some people and some states believe I deserve.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Who can blame the lezbos everywhere for keeping their own
names, for not buying into any system that has marks of oppression all over it?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But I still want to share a name. I don’t want to make a new
name out of nowhere. <b>I don’t want to take and I don’t want to give, I want to
share.</b> <b>So my solution is to fit my Hypothetical Future Partner’s name together
with mine, just as we’ll attempt to fit our lives together</b> (hypothetically of
course).<b> </b>A little give and take. A little of her and a little of me.
Compromise.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
How does this work in the heterosexual world? Shit, I don’t know.
<i>But if people always chose the simple, easier road, we’d be in big trouble.</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I understand that professionals that have careers prior to
getting married would keep their names. And if you believe that your husband
should be the head of your household, then yes, take his name. But otherwise,
<i>why not carefully consider the name you’ll (hopefully) be living with for the
rest of your life, and be open to doing something nontraditional?</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The same questions should be posed about how a proposal
works, why only a woman wears an engagement ring, and why a man is told that he
can kiss the bride at the end of a wedding (aren't they kissing each other?). <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Just because I’m in a situation where I have to devise new
strategies with my Hypothetical Future Partner, doesn't mean heterosexuals,
particularly those who believe in equality of gender, can't or shouldn't question
the systems in which they are included.</b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>If a name is so unimportant, why not give it up for a new
one?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Or, as I've argued, if a name is so important that it tells
others about who you are – and who you and your partner are together – then why
not choose it wisely?</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>What do you think?</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Love,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Kelsey</div>
Kelseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01992373525787394564noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5975880234360265597.post-11171827956945640002013-03-08T21:50:00.001-06:002013-03-08T21:53:44.662-06:00Faith & Romantic Relationships<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--oNIF83d8IU/UTqnCSzsXCI/AAAAAAAADK8/yXL3e5FP55M/s1600/christian-marriage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--oNIF83d8IU/UTqnCSzsXCI/AAAAAAAADK8/yXL3e5FP55M/s1600/christian-marriage.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Between wedding shows, talks with friends and talks with my mother, a common question keeps popping up:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><i>Does sharing the same faith really matter in a relationship?</i></b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">I don't think so.</span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span><span style="color: #444444;">Some of my girlfriends and I talked about this last fall. Most of them said that they wouldn't marry a guy if he wasn't the same denomination as her, or at least a Christian. Some of them said they wouldn't even date a guy of a different faith.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #444444;">This isn't to shame them or laugh at my own superiority; they had some good points when asked why. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #444444;">One friend said that </span><b style="color: #444444;">there would always be something between them</b><span style="color: #444444;">, that they wouldn't have the same view of the world. </span><span style="color: #444444;">Another said that </span><b style="color: #444444;">they couldn't get married in her church</b><span style="color: #444444;"> </span><span style="color: #444444;">if her fiance wasn't of her faith. </span><span style="color: #444444;">Another pointed out that</span><span style="color: #444444;"> </span><b style="color: #444444;">raising kids would be a lot harder</b><span style="color: #444444;"> </span><span style="color: #444444;">when their parents have two different faiths. </span><span style="color: #444444;">I've been preached at by random people that Christian marriages last longer; that </span><span style="color: #444444;">couples who pray together or read the Bible together <b>last longer than couples who don't</b>.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #444444;">All good, valid, points. I just disagree.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span>
</span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><b>(1) Worldview Differences</b></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span><span style="color: #444444;">Take my life: Jake and I don't share the same faith. Jake's a nontheist. He's just not religious. He doesn't believe in God, and it's not something that bothers him.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span><span style="color: #444444;">I'm a questioning Christian. I have a very personal faith. I believe in God. Jesus and I are friends. I like going to church and singing and worshiping and rejoicing in love.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span><span style="color: #444444;">Maybe it's the Interfaith nerd in me, but I'd argue that our worldview isn't very different at all. We both believe in justice and truth and fairness and honesty. We believe in helping others; not because we need to, but because we should. We believe in love and that food is delicious. We believe that trust and equality are essential in a relationship. We put each other first - always - even if it means doing more work yourself.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span><span style="color: #444444;">Is that very different than what two Christians would believe in? Or a Christian and a Muslim? Or a Jew and an atheist?</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span><span style="color: #444444;"><b>For me, that world view is so much more important than whether or not my boyfriend / spouse / life partner believes in God</b>. My belief doesn't condemn him to some fiery torment or push me to convert him. My belief doesn't tell me I'm sinning by loving someone. I don't care if we get married in the Christian church or not (though my preference would be yes). I understand that his beliefs may prevent that from happening, and that doesn't bother me. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>You know what I care about?</b> I care about my family being at our wedding, his family being there, and our close friends being there. I care about the people we love surrounding us and blessing our relationship. I care about having a celebration of love. I care about loving Jacob. Which brings us to:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span>
</span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><b>(2) Marriage in the Church</b></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #444444;">This could get trickier, but stay with me here. This might not be preventable. Straight up. One of my friends is Greek Orthodox. If her fiance doesn't convert, there will not be a wedding. Period.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #444444;">My solution here isn't easy, but it starts off that way: Why do you want to get married in your church?</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #444444;">Let's say you're Catholic, but your girlfriend's an atheist. Do you care about getting married in your church because you want her to be a Christian? Is your family pressuring it? Do you want the people in your church to be there? Is it a spiritually moving place for you? Or is it just about appearances?</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #444444;">Is your church worth losing the person you want to spend the rest of your life with? Or having them change who they are to be with you?</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #444444;">It's a serious question! If your church is more imporant to you, this probably isn't the right relationship for you to be in; but at least figure out WHY you're so set on your church and WHY the church says you can't be with this person.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span>
</span><br />
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Take <b>1 Corinthians 7:13-14</b>:</span><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span class="text 1Cor-7-13" id="en-NIV-28501" style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px;">And if a woman has a husband who is not a believer and he is willing to live with her, she must not divorce him.</span><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px;"> </span><span class="text 1Cor-7-14" id="en-NIV-28502" style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px;"><sup class="versenum" style="font-size: 0.75em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;">14 </sup>For the unbelieving husband has been sanctified through his wife, and the unbelieving wife has been sanctified through her believing husband. Otherwise your children would be unclean, but as it is, they are holy.</span></span></blockquote>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="color: #444444;">Clearly Paul doesn't have a problem with Interfaith marriage in Corinthians. Paul's not like, "Well, she's a heathen, so convert her and THEN it's totally cool to marry her." </span><span style="color: #444444;">God's not all, "I know you really love Chris and all, but... don't. Sorry I'm NOT sorry!" Literally, the opposite thing is happening here. Think on these things.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">I'm not saying one verse should be enough to convert you to the idea (see what I did there?), but try to keep an open mind to the idea that <b>maaaybe God doesn't care about this issue quite as much as people claim God cares</b>. Like, maybe God cares about you being happy with the one you love. Maybe God wants what's best for you, and maybe what's best for you is an Atheist. Maybe a Muslim spouse will strengthen your Christian faith and maybe that's totally awesome. Interfaith relations can be cool like that.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span>
</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Y_YpQza_yjU/UST5wtN1UbI/AAAAAAAADHM/OXnZ0PWBNik/s1600/l105730-102.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="267" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Y_YpQza_yjU/UST5wtN1UbI/AAAAAAAADHM/OXnZ0PWBNik/s400/l105730-102.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span>
</span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><b>(3) The Kids</b></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #444444;">I don't see the "kids" issue as much of an issue at all. For one, we're all going to mess them up anyway, be honest. When you find the parents who did everything perfectly, come talk to me and we'll write a book. Secondly, communicate with your partner for goodness sakes. Talk to them about how you want to raise your kids. You'll probably disagree on something whether or not you're both Christians. If you can't agree on how to raise them, try compromising. It's not like we're Congressmen - we're grown adults, we can give and take and make some compromises here and there.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">It turns out, Jake and I are pretty much on the same page with the whole "kid" thing because (SHOCK) we've talked about it. When we do have kids eventually, we will let them be whatever faith they would like to be. I would be thrilled if they wanted to be Jews, of course, but I don't want to get ahead of myself. If they don't believe in God at all, that'll be fine. If they want to be Muslims, that'll be fine too. As long as we raise our kids to be kind and loving, I'll consider that to be more than a success.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span>
</span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><b>(4) Marriages Last Longer</b></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #444444;">As for the articles on Christian marriages lasting longer: I'm not here to dispel that, but what I see as the point of those facts or articles is not that the couples are Christian - the couples are doing something together, every day. They bond over something they mutual agree with. They make time for each other and don't break up over something small because they've made a committment. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #444444;">It's not magic Christian fairy dust that makes marriage easy or last; it's the committment and the dedication to working on this relationship. </span><span style="color: #444444;">That's beautiful. It's something all couples can take as a lesson.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span>
</span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">... ... ... ... ... ...</span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span>
</span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">What really is the most important thing in a relationship? Do you think that a similar worldview can make up for differences in faith? Would you ever date or marry someone of a different faith? Do you agree with my friends or me? Why? Would your church look down on you if your partner wasn't the same faith as you?</span></b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Love,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><a href="http://herstoryvoices.blogspot.com/p/madie-f.html" target="_blank">Madie</a></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16400621027250890268noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5975880234360265597.post-41323376491160214662013-03-03T22:01:00.000-06:002013-03-03T22:01:17.272-06:00Here It Is: My Inevitable Catholic Post<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XJFnoHuadt4/UTQX428Y00I/AAAAAAAAAEk/6MWFl0hBlsg/s1600/popebenedictxvi.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XJFnoHuadt4/UTQX428Y00I/AAAAAAAAAEk/6MWFl0hBlsg/s1600/popebenedictxvi.jpg" height="200" width="158" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bye-bye Papa B.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">As the token Catholic contributor
to this blog, I knew this post was coming eventually.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> Some of you probably did too. </span>So, here we go.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In the past few weeks there has been a lot of
buzz about the resignation of the Pope.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And not all of it has been pleasant…or really even rational.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While I have not agreed with everything Benedict
did as Pope, I am still offended when people attack him in a blatant, nasty, and
uninformed manner.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There are definitely
things about the Catholic Church that need to be worked on, and some things
that need to be reconsidered and changed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>That doesn’t mean the Church doesn’t have anything to offer to the world…and
that doesn’t mean that it’s not something worth fighting for.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">I’ve been asked
plenty of times “Why are you Catholic?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not
going to lie, I’m Catholic in large part because my parents raised me that
way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Honestly, that’s why a lot of
people are Catholic.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They’re “culture
Catholic”…don’t always go to Church, but still want to be a part of the
group.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But for me, it’s more
than a label I walk around having but don’t really do much with.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m Catholic because I find something
beautiful in the tradition, the celebration, the structure, and the worldwide
community that I’m apart of just for being Catholic.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I could go to any Catholic Church in the
world, and even if the Mass wasn’t in English, I would still be
able to understand what is happening for the most part.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>There is a comfort in that kind of unification and connection.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">I’ve also been
asked “Why do you stay Catholic?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As I
said, I recognize that there are some major issues within the Catholic Church.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The sexual abuse, and the way that the
situations were sometimes handled, was really disgraceful.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Many clergy, however, were very adamant about
new measures being adopted by the Church that would ensure the protection of
children against such abuse, and many of the faithful called out those who
tried to downplay or cover-up the situations.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>On the more theological side of things, women’s ordination and general
leadership within the Church is another major issue, and one that strikes
especially close to home because I <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">am </i>a
woman who is Catholic and studying to do ministry (non-ordained) within the
Church.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is something that I think truly
does need to be reexamined because the theology and explanations defending
male-only priesthood is, in my opinion, kind of weak and unconvincing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yet, I remain Catholic.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Gay marriage is another issue the Church is currently
facing, and another thing that I am personally in favor of.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Again, the theology and explanations behind
arguments against gay marriage seem lacking to me, and I can think of and have
heard various solid arguments in favor of it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Yet, I remain Catholic.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"></span><br />
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kixPCrbauYI/UTQX9_vKZVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/7YR3ArJPixA/s1600/st-peters-basilica.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kixPCrbauYI/UTQX9_vKZVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/7YR3ArJPixA/s1600/st-peters-basilica.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">You might be really
wondering why I stay in the Church at this point.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Why I don’t just up and leave everything I have
known since my childhood to find something that better accommodates my
ideals.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One reason is that I believe the
easiest way to change something is from the inside.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Standing on the outside, yelling and pounding
your fists against the wall are not going to be effective.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Being a part of the tradition, the culture,
and understanding the issues with an insider’s perspective will get you a lot
farther in your arguments.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I also <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">know </i>some of the theology behind a
couple of these issues, from both sides of the arguments.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m not just going around bashing the Church
because I don’t agree with <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">everything </i>it
says or does (show me a religion in which all of its believers agree with everything
it says…and is not a cult).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know why
the Church says some of what it says, and on my end I can make thoughtful
critiques of it because I give enough of a damn to actually <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">learn </i>about my faith and my Church.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>People who think they know the issues within the Church without bothering to actually try to learn
about about the theology and understand it are not doing themselves or their causes any
favors.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"></span><br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">I believe the
Catholic Church is worth fighting for.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
believe, at its heart, that it is meant to bring good to this world, and I see
so much worth being a part of within it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I try to keep in mind that women’s ordination and gay marriage are
currently very <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Western </i>issues.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Church in Africa and Latin America, for
example, is more concerned with alleviating poverty and ending war.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>People are happy to bash Benedict for his stand
on Western issues, but did you also know that in one of the three encyclicals
he wrote that he spoke specifically about economic issues and declared that
working and exploiting purely for personal profit is <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">immoral</i>?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This doesn’t mean
that the average Joe who puts in an honest day’s labor falls into this category…he’s
just trying to get by and provide for his family (if average Joe has a family),
or even that all rich people are bad, because maybe becoming obscenely wealthy
isn’t actually their goal and just happens to them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What this does mean is that Benedict
basically called out those mega-corporations who exploit and take-advantage of
people all over the world…whether through cheap labor or under-handed business
practices…just to make that much more money for the people at the top, and said
“Hey, assholes…you’re bad people.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Knock
it off.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We’ve also got a pretty
impressive legacy of social justice powerhouses, like Mother Theresa and Dorothy Day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="right">
</div>
<div align="right">
</div>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"></span><div align="left">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Finally, Catholicism
is also a part of my identity…part of who I am at my core.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am not just <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">a</i> Catholic…I <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">am</i>
Catholic.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Being Catholic, for a lot of
people, isn’t just about what religion they are.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There is a culture and a history to being
Catholic that stretches farther back into the past than most institutions that
exist today (it’s older than even a few long-standing governments).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even if I stopped actively being Catholic…I
would never really stop <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">being </i>Catholic.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s ingrained into me that deeply.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
</div>
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-d6PGhon7ea4/UTQag4Dx3tI/AAAAAAAAAFA/RIXOIlxHuVg/s1600/mass.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-d6PGhon7ea4/UTQag4Dx3tI/AAAAAAAAAFA/RIXOIlxHuVg/s1600/mass.jpg" height="211" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">The Church is as
complex as the billions of people who identify themselves with it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For every bad aspect of it, there are dozens
of good things that are worth fighting to uphold.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So, I remain Catholic and I continue to
educate myself about my faith and my Church so that I can make a difference in
it and the world.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For those people who
do choose to leave, I don’t blame them…for some it really does seem like the
only option, and they just get tired of the struggle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For others, they just might not relate to the
Church in a way that spiritually benefits them and they are able to find that somewhere
else.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But many people do remain within
the Church, and <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">they </i>are the Church…the
Body of Christ…who live out their faith in their everyday lives, trying to find
peace and grace in an often chaotic and broken world.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is these people, these common believers,
who are the real reason I stay in the Church….they are my community, and they
are worth the struggle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">A short list of
some common misconceptions about Catholicism that really, really annoy me:<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">1.<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">“Papal
Infallibility” does <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">not </i>mean
everything the Pope says is true or that a Pope is even sinless.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Church</i>
is infallible, and the Pope is the spokesperson for the Church.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There is a whole list of stuff that has to
take place before any Church teaching can be declared infallible by the Pope,
and this has actually only happened <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">twice
</i>in the history of the Church.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Both
times, the teachings had to do with the Virgin Mary (her Conception and
Assumption).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">2.<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">We
do not worship saints, so let it go already.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>When we pray to saints, we are really asking them to pray on our behalf
to God.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">always </i>goes to God.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s
like asking a friend to pray for you when you are about to face some kind of
challenge in your life…except in this instance a lot of these “friends” were
willing to sacrifice everything, even their own lives, to follow their faith.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Saint side note: A lot of us won’t get too
pissed off if you critique the hierarchy, doctrine, tradition, or sacraments of
the Church…but don’t you <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">dare </i>go
after the Virgin Mary.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You will regret
it.</span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"></span> </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YIcLMbMmcxo/UTQZQU5-lpI/AAAAAAAAAE4/WJopATfLxLQ/s1600/imagesCA48WGBS.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YIcLMbMmcxo/UTQZQU5-lpI/AAAAAAAAAE4/WJopATfLxLQ/s1600/imagesCA48WGBS.jpg" /></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Do not mess with the Virgin</span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">3.<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Going
along with the Mary theme, the Immaculate Conception does <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">not </i>refer to Jesus’ conception…but to Mary’s.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We believe, in order to prepare her for her
role as Jesus’ mother, God allowed Mary to be conceived without original sin
(read Augustine and you’ll understand how this idea works).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I could hardly get through the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Family Guy</i> Christmas episode this year
because they kept getting the Immaculate Conception wrong…you’re better than
that, Seth MacFarlane! (He actually might not be)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">4.<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">The
Church doesn’t say sex is <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">only </i>for
baby-making (not anymore, anyway).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That definitely
is still a big part of it (hence the no-no on contraceptives), but there is
also an emphasis on the relational and spiritual intimacy between the
couple.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So, unlike in the Middle Ages,
it’s okay if you enjoy having sex.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s
also okay (now verses then) for couples to have sex even if they can’t have
babies (see…progress!). <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XVNs-e9P6Pc/UTQalzHk2eI/AAAAAAAAAFM/zBNGks63Rwk/s1600/catholicism.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XVNs-e9P6Pc/UTQalzHk2eI/AAAAAAAAAFM/zBNGks63Rwk/s1600/catholicism.jpg" height="320" width="256" /></a></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span><o:p>In summary...</o:p></span></div>
See ya!<br />
Erin B.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10065741913721435892noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5975880234360265597.post-86251238883382995012013-02-13T13:39:00.003-06:002013-02-13T13:40:44.911-06:00Christianity and Romance - A Pre-V-Day Read<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
Tomorrow is Valentine’s Day. Whether you’re planning a
romantic evening with your significant other or intend to protest the Hallmarked-out
holiday I think we should talk about <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">romance</b>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Particularly from a Christian point of view.
I find it a bit strange that, in a culture of cliché love songs, romantic
comedies, and a multi-million dollar wedding industry, when it comes to the
Church we have lost all understanding of romantic love for others. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sure, Christianity, and Jesus’ ministry in
particular, is centered on love—we are to love the poor, the less fortunate,
and our enemies. We are to love and honor our parents and we are to remain in
community with the entire Church. And yet, when it comes to marriage,
sexuality, and sexual relations, there is very little mention of romantic love
or the importance of having a true emotional and mutual connection with
another. Spending a lot of time with Christians and seminarians (many
married/in committed relationships) I don’t hear a lot of conversation
surrounding romantic love. We do talk about love – we converse about the Greek
word <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Agape</i> – a true and unconditional
love for and by God. But, where the hell is Eros? Eros, another Greek word,
most closely identified as a passionate, sensual, and intimate love is not present
in the Bible and rarely comes up in a Christian context. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Now, to be fair, I’m not a romantic person. I’m quite
cynical actually, but I’m still concerned that a lack of romantic love within
the Christian tradition is problematic. Romantic love is about intimacy and
becoming close to another, not just emotionally but physically as well. Romantic
love is the attraction one has for another, it is an excitement and an
enthusiasm, and it is a desire and longing to understand another in a physical,
spiritual, and emotional manner. This romantic love, of infatuation and
complete vulnerability to another, is often passed by when the Church and
theologians talk about marriage or sexual relationships.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As Christians we are seeking out a relationship with Christ
and want to truly know him. However, <b>how can we go about coming to know Christ
in an intimate way, if we cannot even come to know another man or woman in an
intimate way?</b> Romantic love, in all of its dreamy idealism and enthusiasm,
illustrates intimacy in a positive and outward way. Romantic love brings desire
to the forefront, a feeling which at its very nature is religious, not sexual.
Desire is a longing for closeness and intimacy, a yearning, a wanting of more also
desire to know God better, both in God’s humanity and divinity. Integrating
romantic love into the Church and allowing for emotion and vulnerability to
take over a part of our lives makes us more readily available to Jesus Christ. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I want romance, people. Hot, steamy, passion-filled, erotic
romance. And, I think romantic love is possible to incorporate in the Church
and will only help us lead more faithful Christian lives.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xfKv2atI2-A/URvrIs7_XII/AAAAAAAAAEk/8zsdDPWCNEY/s1600/mechthild_portr_01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xfKv2atI2-A/URvrIs7_XII/AAAAAAAAAEk/8zsdDPWCNEY/s1600/mechthild_portr_01.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This isn’t all that new. Let’s look at the genre of erotic
and courtly love literature of early Christian mystics. My girl Mechthild of
Magdeburg was a rock star at incorporating this language of eroticism and romantic
passion. Here’s just a brief excerpt: </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 2;"> </span>I
cannot dance Lord, unless you lead me.</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 2;"> </span>If
you want me to leap with abandon,</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 2;"> </span>You
must intone the song.</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 2;"> </span>Then
I shall leap into love,</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 2;"> </span>From
love into knowledge, </div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 2;"> </span>From
knowledge into enjoyment,</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 2;"> </span>And
from enjoyment beyond all human sensations.</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 2;"> </span>There
I want to remain, yet also want to circle higher still.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 2;"> </span>(Flowing
Light of the Godhead)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In closing an eye to the use of the word ‘Lord’ as a title
within the reading, the verse could easily be talking about a human lover, who
has filled her with a sense of love and a desire for more. Just as we desire to
be closer to God and come to know God more fully, we long to be one with our
romantic partners. Ideally, a romantic relationship with another culminates
when you reveal your deepest secrets, thoughts, and desires to your partner. Mechthild
has bared her soul; her love with Christ is evolving, and although she remains
in a state of perfection and harmony, she still seeks more. In that same way,
if directed toward a romantic partner, human beings are seeking to share their
journey with someone and to bare their whole self to another. Mechthild
illustrates the same kind of love that many contemporary sources are
illustrating in the modern entertainment industry (an entertainment industry
that seems to thrive off of romantic love). For example, let’s take a look at <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">my other gir</i>l T-Swift for a sec:</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 2;"> </span>‘Cause
I don't know how it gets better than this.</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 2;"> </span>You
take my hand and drag me head first, Fearless.</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 2;"> </span>And
I don't know why, but with you I'd dance in a storm</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 2;"> </span>In
my best dress, Fearless.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 2;"> </span>(Fearless,
Taylor Swift)</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pvzTQXyQWA8/URvrSCBKw7I/AAAAAAAAAEs/sEoLwMU4es0/s1600/images.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pvzTQXyQWA8/URvrSCBKw7I/AAAAAAAAAEs/sEoLwMU4es0/s1600/images.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In the same fashion that Mechthild talks about submitting to
God (I cannot dance Lord, unless you lead me), Swift sings of submitting to a
romantic lover (You take my hand and drag me head first…). Both verses imply a
sense of chasing after, of gratitude for, and of being in union with another,
for the good of both parties. Both songs also bring about a sense of fulfillment
and absolutely gratification. <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">As
Mechthild says, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“and from the enjoyment
beyond all human sensations, there I want to remain,”</i> she really means<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"> “cause I don’t know how it gets better than
this</i>,” both in reference to a loving, intimate, and romantic relationship
that has provided the writer with a sense of complete emotional gratification. </b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Just as Swift’s music is an expression of romantic love in
her life which allows listeners to imagine, formulate, and desire an
all-encompassing love like she describes in her song, a mystic’s use of erotic
language does the same—pushes readers beyond their own limitations toward a
relationship with God. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Romantic love exists, and its existence allows for
individuals to go farther than traditional concepts of love and enter into new,
more intimate engagements with others.It is not the intention of romantic or sexual love to
replace the religious love we feel for God, but it is to include romantic love
as a way to better understand Jesus, ourselves, and our relationships with
others. The fact that this romantic and passionate love has existed within the
tradition of mysticism, and exists today within our romance-obsessed,
Valentine’s Day driven, and candlelit dinner inspired fantasies, is an indication
of the necessity of romantic love in our relationship with God and with others. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Romantic love encompasses both the emotional and the
physical sides of desire, passion, and attraction. Romantically loving someone means caring for them, trusting them, wanting the best
for them, and seeking to join with them in thought and in action. This love
flourishes when one allows oneself to become as vulnerable as possible with
another—in others words completely revealing one’s heart and soul and feelings
to another human being. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Love is everywhere. Listen to the radio, turn on the
television, flip through the Bible. Love is present in the world. The problem
is not that love does not exist or that love is not practiced, <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">but that romantic love is not held to as
high of a standard as other types of love within the Christian tradition</b>.
Inserting romantic and passionate love into the Church’s teachings ables human
beings to harness the often unpredictable and idealistic romantic love found
throughout the media and in fairytales, in a healthy way. Understanding romantic
love as a much deeper and meaningful expression enhances our relationships with
the Divine. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So, tomorrow is Valentine’s Day. Whether you’re single or
taken, take a minute or two to understand romance in your life and how romance
might complement your faith rather than be distinct from it. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Also, write some erotic love poetry. Because, it’s good for
you. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01764994678879767648noreply@blogger.com1