Shout-Out

It's been a good semester, tough but good. I've had some amazing professors over the years, especially in the Women's Studies department. I'm fascinated by powerful women in academia - their personalities, their mannerisms, and their relationships with their students. I've noticed that a lot of my female professors are brilliant but tend to be guarded, maybe because of "show-no-weakness" philosophy that male professors just don't really have to contend with. This can come off to a lot of people as being pedantic or stuck-up. But I've never found that with any of my mentors, they are all incredibly brilliant, fascinating women, and I feel privileged to have gotten to know them. I really admire and have the best relationships with professors who challenge me, who demand excellence from me but are willing to help me get there, especially with my writing. I remember particularly one of my undergraduate English professors tore my first paper apart (which made me cry) but then sat down with me and really worked with me on recognizing my strengths and how to improve. She essentially picked me up and threw me out into the deep end of the water, but knowing that I could swim ultimately. I am a better writer because of her.

Therefore, I'd like to thank all of these women who have had such a tremendous impact on me, who have made me a better student, a better feminist, and a better person: Sheila Garos, Tricia Earl, Marjean Purinton, Lynn Fallwell, Esther Lichti, Laura Calkins, and Kanika Batra. I can't thank you all enough for all you've done for me, you have been my mentors and I have loved getting to know you. You've made my university career the amazing experience it was.

Sexual Fluidity and Body Image: Does one protect the other?

I was talking with two very close friends of mine who were sharing with me the body-image issues they've had since childhood. I finally asked them, "So when did your issues with your body start?" They both said, "I've always thought I was fat." This made me incredibly sad, because I think they are both beautiful women, on the inside and the outside.

One them showed me pictures of her as a teenager, beautiful and healthy, standing next to girls in her high school who were stick-thin. "You see why I always thought I was fat? I was comparing myself to these girls." Didn't it occur to them that maybe these girls had body issues as well and were leading unhealthy lives just to get as thin as they were?  It particularly disturbed me when the other one said, "Even when I was exercising and losing weight, I was never satisfied. I always thought I could lose ten, twenty more pounds." I reminded her that that was the whole point of an eating disorder - someone who, no matter how thin they get, they always look in the mirror and see this ugly, fat monster. Someone who is genuinely mentally and physically ill.

Of course, both as a psychology major studying eating disorders and a feminist, I've long been aware of how the media promotes rail-thin women, to the point where anorexia for models is the sexy thing to do. Case in point:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VS2mfWDryPE

But at the same time, for me personally, I've never understood that mentality, even as a kid. When I saw magazine pictures of beautiful, thin women - not necessarily unhealthy, but slender - I wouldn't compare myself to them, I'd think "Man, she's hot." I appreciated her beauty without coveting it in any way. Why was I immune when I should have been socialized to believe I should look like them? I have a few theories - first of all, unlike a lot of middle-class white mothers, my mother never pushed any body issues on me. She never once commented on my appearance or my weight, (except maybe that I eat like a bird and should eat more, lol.) And when some asshole broke my heart, my father would always be there tell me how beautiful I am and that any man would be lucky to have me. It never really occurred to me that not all parents are like that.

But like I said, when I would see these images of beautiful women, I appreciate them wholly. Instead of comparing myself to them, like it's a competition, I take them for what they are - women who are lucky enough to have the money and time to look like they do, though this will not necessarily make them happy. Maybe it's because I have a genuine love and appreciation for the human body, both male and female. I think it's a wondrous piece of machinery, and that convinces me it could have never occurred by accident. And sometimes I wonder if my sexual fluidity actually worked as a protective factor against that kind of socialization that strives to tell girls they will never be pretty enough, thin enough, etc. I don't know if this is the case for all sexually fluid women, but it would be an interesting study. Why do we teach our women (and increasingly, men as well) that our bodies are our enemies, to be controlled and tamed? I'm not saying we should be downing "Krispy Kremes and milkshakes, spending our days thigh-expanding" (in the wonderful words of Eve Ensler). We should treat our bodies well, by not overindulging it or constraining it unnecessarily. Descartes was full of shit - your mind, body and spirit are not separate - your body's health is integral to your mind's and vice-versa.

I'm not a lesbian, I just live with a woman...

Today one of my mentors, a woman I absolutely adore and admire, said something so strange I can't help but blog about it. I've met her female life partner, with whom she is raising a child. But today we are talking about sexual identity and she says, "I may live with a woman but I'm not a lesbian, there is nothing about me that is lesbian. I still miss men and I couldn't imagine being with a woman if I wasn't with [my partner.] My lesbian friends just tell me I can't come out, but I promise you, I'm out, out out!"

I was blown away. For the longest time I have identified her as a lesbian in my mind, not in any negative or stereotyped way but because that's what her current orientation is. Even though my experience has taught me that just because someone has same-sex relationships does not mean they identify as gay or consider themselves part of the LGBT community, the socialized part of my mind struggled to come up with a different way to categorize her: "Wait, if she's not a lesbian, what the hell does she identify as?"

I had to consciously stop myself from doing this, to accept that she just is what she is: a bad-ass woman who is excellent at what she does and a wonderful mentor. Honestly, in the grander scheme of things, her sexual identity doesn't really matter. The only problem I really had with what she said was the particular phrase, "There's nothing lesbian about me." It made me wonder then what her construction of a lesbian is. If it is not a woman who connects emotionally, romantically, and sexually with another woman (or women), then what?

I'm currently reading this book called "Sexual Fluidity" by Lisa Diamond (even though I haven't read much of it yet, I would recommend it). It's the first time any theorist that I've read has made a distinction between "sexual orientation" and "sexual identity." For example, a woman who dates men but has had sexual relations with women may still identify as predominantly heterosexual. We may try with all of our might to categorize these people, but we are quickly learning as feminist theorists that labels simply don't work anymore. My mentor today taught me just how true that is becoming.

Surprise, Tiger Woods is human

Okay, I gotta comment on this whole Tiger Wood thing, since this has pretty much been the pinnacle of what has been a long string of exposures of and confessionals from male adulterers. I kept quiet about David Letterman and what-his-face (there's always someone having an affair), because honestly, I just didn't give a shit.

Why do I care now, especially since I couldn't care less about golf? I guess because no one expected it from Tiger. He always seemed so Zen, so squeaky clean and put together. I'm not here to make value judgments on what he did. But I will comment on people reaction to it. I'm reading about all these women coming forward and saying they slept with Tiger (wouldn't you?) and suddenly there are allegations of him being a sex addict: http://www.examiner.com/x-17416-Infidelity-Examiner~y2009m12d6-New-Details-About-Tiger-Woods-Secret-Love-Life-Reveal-He-May-Be-Addicted-to-Sex?cid=channel-rss-Relationships Um, I'm sorry, what?

Okay, first of all, this is a very serious inference about someone's mental health. It's not to be taken lightly. I have often long debated even the legitimacy of calling sex an addiction, but that's for another blog. Secondly, we don't even know if these women are telling the truth. It would be a perfect opportunity for them to get their 15 minutes. And plus, I love that they did these completely consensual acts with him but now they're coming out with claims of victimization and saying that he used them? I'm sorry, but I call bullshit.

If these women were coming out with allegations of rape or coercion of any kind, this issue would be a whole other kettle of fish and we should certainly take those issues seriously. I'm not saying what Tiger did to his wife wasn't wrong. But he's certainly not the first powerful athlete to cheat on his wife and he certainly won't be the last. Just leave the guy alone, for Christ's sake. It's not like he's a public official (oh wait, they get away with that too...)

Reaction: Black Tar Heroin

For my class recently, I watched a documentary called Black Tar Heroin: The Dark End of the Street. It follows five young adults in the late 90's who are heroin users, and black tar is a particularly addictive and heinous form of heroin. The way I've heard it described is that it "makes Trainspotting look like an after-school special." That is a pretty apt description. I noticed that several of my classmates were squirming in their seats at the sight of the needles penetrating the skin. I understand why, it’s absolutely revolting what heroin addicts do to their bodies, even being willing to shoot themselves up in the neck or jamming the needle into their muscles. However, I don’t believe in shying away from reality just because it makes us uncomfortable. This is a daily reality for more people than we think. It’s also a reality that I could never hope or pretend to understand. Yes, they all made a conscious choice to start using drugs, but then again, most of them were not as lucky as I was to grow up in a structured, supportive home. As a feminist, I was really fascinated by how sexuality is infused with drug use in several ways. I was especially interested in the opposing views on prostitution between Oreo/Jessica and Alice. Alice was just as much a drug addict as the rest of them, and yet she had principles she refused to compromise; unlike the others, she would never do sexual favors for drugs. Alice was my favorite person in the documentary, because she had a very different, articulate way of explaining drug use. Most people who talk about heroin use describe it as a hundred times better than the best orgasm, yet Alice described it as a way for young women to take away unwanted aspects of their sexuality that may be imposed on them by society. It makes me really sad to see such a creative, intelligent feminist like Alice throw her life away on drugs, but I was extremely proud of her for trying to quit in the end. I wonder how she’s doing more than ten years later. I’m not saying any of the others deserved to be drug addicts more than she did. Their drug dependence wasted away so much of their individual talents.

Power of the Pill

It really pisses me off when people say things about mental illness like, "I'm just against medication. Doctors want to give you a pill to make your problems go away, and they want to call you bipolar when really you just can't deal with the normal ups and downs of life."

I'm paraphrasing here, but this came from one of my coworkers that I'm actually pretty close to, and who should know me well enough NOT to say stuff like that. I could have replied that if she knew anything about mental illness she wouldn't say something like that. (She's getting her master's in counseling, by the way.) And she wouldn't be saying that about someone who had cancer or diabetes. She wouldn't be insisting a physical disease could be cured by force of the will, so why do people say that about mental illness? Instead all I said was, "Well, medication has turned my life around." Which is completely true.This is why I don't talk to many people about my anxiety and mood disorder - they either see you as a disease instead of a person ("I'm bipolar") or they dismiss your suffering altogether and tell you to get over it.

I know this doesn't seem like it has much to do with feminism, but mental health is very ingrained into my sense of feminism, and I actually hope to study feminist psychology in graduate school. Women are far more likely to present with major depression, borderline personality and eating disorders - don't you think old patriarchal concepts of the "hysterical female" have anything to do with that? Think about it.We also live in a society that stresses frontierist individualism and tells us to suck up our problems, that we can get through anything by strength of will or the power of God. (I actually read a book on anxiety that said that very thing.) And we feel forced to do it alone - we are isolated from our support networks, and that's something no medication can fix. I think men especially feel this, so I don't believe that women are depressed more than men are - I just think we teach our boys that it is a weakness to reach out for help or admit their suffering.

Don't misunderstand me, I don't look at any medication as a miracle worker that will solve any problem. That's why I'm in counseling as well. Nor is medication the right treatment for all people with psychological disorders. All psychotropic meds do is get you functional enough to actually deal with your problems. It's hard to do that effectively when all you want to do is slice up your wrists or you think you can fly off the rooftop. And that's all chemical. You cannot just "try" to be happier. What you can do is seek treatment and learn to manage and cope with it.

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to take my meds so I can get out of bed in the morning and deal with life.

Is it worth it?

Six people showed up to the film viewing. SIX, after 20 or so said they were coming. Besides the executive board, two people came to the last planning meeting. After countless Facebook invitations, reminder emails, and TechAnnounce. After an announcement stating that the film viewing event was required for prospective actresses, because we need actresses who are also truly dedicated to working for V-day. I heard that the six people who came and participated were wonderful and enthusiastic about the V-Day cause. For that I would like to thank them deeply and I look forward to working with them.

As for the others who are absent, what am I doing wrong? Am I not being personal enough, sending out these mass emails? Am I not making it clear that these events should be a requirement for those who want to volunteer or act in the Vagina Monologues? I don't want to step on anyone's toes, or seem like the disciplinarian hardass I can truly be sometimes, because what does that accomplish? I care about this cause so much, and I truly believe in it. But I am also getting incredibly frustrated, as I know my V-day sisters must be. I wish people would understand how much we really need them - I was hoping that I related that clearly enough time and time again when we first began contacting people. The executive board, the three of us cannot do it alone. Without your help, V-Day will not happen. The victims of violence in Lubbock will not get the aid they need. And after all, that is what I'm truly in it for. For them.

So please, someone tell me what I'm doing wrong, whether in my organization, my people skills, or something. I'm feeling very lost and that my efforts are futile.