Relationships are all about trust. You trust that the other person is telling you the truth. You trust that they are opening themselves up to you. You trust that they are doing what they say they are doing, and that they are feeling what they say they are feeling. You trust them with your deepest secrets. You trust them to carry your heart, and you trust them that they aren't going to hurt you.
But trust gets lost sometimes. And sometimes, it's hard to regain. In my last relationship, I did some very uncharacteristic of me. I jumped in, all in. I didn't separate the emotional from the logical. For some reason, it was an automatic, no questions asked, I adore this person, and I am going to give this person my heart. And it was great for a while. In my previous relationships, I was the logical thinker. I was the one that didn't turn on my emotions, and rationalized everything, and even was able to rationalize myself out of those relationships. And then I moved on quickly, because I don't dwell on my emotions for long periods of time.
But this one was very different. My emotions were in control. I don't know why. I still can't rationalize why my brain was shut out of the decision making process. It felt good. It felt like real love. It felt that we had the whole world.
And then it happened. I got a text message. A text, while I was at work, stating that they cheated. At least they had the honesty to tell me. But the dumb thing about the situation is that I HELD ON. I was told it didn't mean anything. I was told I was the only one, I was told it would never happen again. And I trusted. We had built up such a great relationship, my heart couldn't let go. Mind you, my brain had told me from the start that something wasn't connecting, but obviously I couldn't listen because my heart was speaking louder.
Here's the thing. It doesn't matter why I held on. But I did. And for four months after the admittance of cheating, we stayed in this partnership that never was happy. After I finally ended it and stopped all communication, I was finally able to start healing. And here's where I am now.
I'm not mad. My brain has started to chime in again, and with that, I have been able to rationalize why the cheating happened. It's not right, I'm not trying to justify that. But what I can justify is that my ex was immature. My ex needed instant gratification, and was a very inwards person. With that, the guilt of cheating wouldn't let her move on. Even now, I think there's this desperate need for me to forgive her so that she can feel better about her actions. But that's not my problem. My focus right now is on healing. I feel like I lost myself a bit in this relationship. I lost the rational part of myself, the part that I have grown to love and trust. So I'm focusing on regaining myself, and regaining that trust for myself.
When your partner cheats on you, it makes you look like a total fool. Cheating is plan and simple, a selfish act. It's an act that does not allow that person to think about their other. It is an act that doesn't allow that person to think about the future, or the consequences, until it's too late. For the person that got cheated on, it's a sign that things weren't going well for one person. I truly and honestly believe that if someone is truly in love with another person, and that couple has promised monogamy, there is no need for temptation. Any temptation or thought of another person wouldn't be taken seriously, because if you are truly happy with what you have, that person would always be your thought and priority. So when I was cheated on, I felt defeated. I felt like my relationship was a lie. I still feel, to an extent, that my relationship was based on a lie. Because the other person wasn't being honest with me. Obviously there was something that made her want that temptation.
So here I am, left to look like a fool. What makes cheating even worse is when after you break up, your partner goes off and is happy with the person they cheated on you with. Again, the whole concept of "it didn't mean anything" obviously wasn't true. And there's another example of my trust being betrayed. I feel like a complete fool for not ending things sooner, and for trusting things could get better. And to make matters worse, we run in the same circle. We are going to run into each other. I can't keep avoiding her to continue to focus on myself. So I have to figure out what I want to do.
Do I start to build a friendship with this person who treated me badly? How do you build up that trust again? Can I build up that trust again? Do I want to trust someone that has proven so deeply that they cannot be trusted? Can people change?
Hurt can take a really long time to heal. Finding confidence in yourself again can take a really long time. I don't have the answers, and I certainly haven't healed fully. I don't believe in an eye for an eye, so I don't want to cause any hurt or pain. But I do want to make things as easy as possible in the future. Sometimes I wish I could skip ahead to the part where I feel much better, my mental health is stable, and I have a great support system near me. But maybe part of growing and becoming better people is having to go through this journey and learn from it.
Here's my big takeaways from this relationship. Listen to yourself. Listen to your red flags. Truth be told, I am an awesome catch (I'm not just saying that to toot my own horn). If there is someone that isn't giving me what I deserve, I need to acknowledge that and be confident in myself to ask for that. And be ok with not allowing people into my life that don't give me what I deserve, friendship or romantic partnership.
So my promise to myself is that there is a light at the end of this tunnel. I am going to be fine, I am going to be happy, and I am going to heal and be much better. I am going to gain confidence and stand up for myself, and I am going to acknowledge that not everyone that pursues me in a romantic sense is good for me. And if they are not deserving of what I have to offer, I don't need them in my life.
Maybe someday I'll be writing a blog thanking my ex for cheating on me. But until then, I will continue to work on my healing, and I will continue to celebrate myself and keep learning to love myself. And know that trust is a fickle thing, and to tread carefully.
Tuesday, August 25, 2015
Sunday, August 16, 2015
Roller Derby as a women's sport
As you may know, I started playing with a new derby league when I moved out West. For the most part, I have truly enjoyed the experience. But there's something that's really bothering me.
All of the coaches and trainers in this league have been calling the skaters "ladies." I don't like being described as a "lady." I don't like the word at all. This is not to negate anyone that does like the word - I have a very dear friend who loves calling herself a lady, and I think that's great. But that's not who I am.
To me, there's a connotation to the word lady that is innately degrading. To me, a "lady" is someone that is weak, someone that isn't able to do equal tasks or work to other people, and is a domesticated, "safe" person. Society has shown that ladies are dainty, they don't do anything wrong, and they are treated with safety gloves. I personally do not identify as a lady, and I think that overall, when someone calls you a lady, it's a degrading concept.
To add to that, one of the teams has a male coach, who continually called the skaters "ladies." I just feel that this makes it that much worse, for several reasons. First of all, this coach didn't skate. He immediately separated himself from the skaters and himself, and stood in the middle with his street clothes on. Now, I know that's what technically a coach should do; but I think there are some different power dynamics that come into play when a male-identified individual comes out, separating himself from all the other people out there, and tells the skaters what to do. All while calling the skaters "ladies." So not only was he not identifying himself as a part of the group, but then to make the gap larger, he identified the skaters as "ladies," and himself as "not a lady."
I have had male coaches before. In my first league, there were several male-identified skaters that were voted as coaches. I think the difference from that league to this experience is that with my first league, the coaches were skaters. They identified themselves with the group they were training, and did the drills with them. They were on skates, they made themselves vulnerable just like the other skaters, and minimized that power differential. Additionally, I don't believe the term "ladies" was used from a coach. This might be because there were male-identified skaters in those practices most of the time, but it wasn't as might of a power differential in my first league.
Add to that the concept that roller derby is supposed to be an inclusive, safe environment for all people. Roller derby is one of the first sports that has allowed gender non-conforming or trans folks to participate and compete, which is a source of pride for the community. So by using the term "lady," it's negating the concept that all people should be comfortable here.
If you are reading this, and if you are involved in a community, whether it be roller derby or otherwise, be conscious of your word choice. It makes a difference. Instead of using the word "lady," let's use the word "folks." Or my favorite in roller derby, "skaters." We are not all ladies; we are not all defined by this word. Let's work on making this a more inclusive world by understanding that sometimes our words oppress others, and doing something about it.
All of the coaches and trainers in this league have been calling the skaters "ladies." I don't like being described as a "lady." I don't like the word at all. This is not to negate anyone that does like the word - I have a very dear friend who loves calling herself a lady, and I think that's great. But that's not who I am.
To me, there's a connotation to the word lady that is innately degrading. To me, a "lady" is someone that is weak, someone that isn't able to do equal tasks or work to other people, and is a domesticated, "safe" person. Society has shown that ladies are dainty, they don't do anything wrong, and they are treated with safety gloves. I personally do not identify as a lady, and I think that overall, when someone calls you a lady, it's a degrading concept.
To add to that, one of the teams has a male coach, who continually called the skaters "ladies." I just feel that this makes it that much worse, for several reasons. First of all, this coach didn't skate. He immediately separated himself from the skaters and himself, and stood in the middle with his street clothes on. Now, I know that's what technically a coach should do; but I think there are some different power dynamics that come into play when a male-identified individual comes out, separating himself from all the other people out there, and tells the skaters what to do. All while calling the skaters "ladies." So not only was he not identifying himself as a part of the group, but then to make the gap larger, he identified the skaters as "ladies," and himself as "not a lady."
I have had male coaches before. In my first league, there were several male-identified skaters that were voted as coaches. I think the difference from that league to this experience is that with my first league, the coaches were skaters. They identified themselves with the group they were training, and did the drills with them. They were on skates, they made themselves vulnerable just like the other skaters, and minimized that power differential. Additionally, I don't believe the term "ladies" was used from a coach. This might be because there were male-identified skaters in those practices most of the time, but it wasn't as might of a power differential in my first league.
Add to that the concept that roller derby is supposed to be an inclusive, safe environment for all people. Roller derby is one of the first sports that has allowed gender non-conforming or trans folks to participate and compete, which is a source of pride for the community. So by using the term "lady," it's negating the concept that all people should be comfortable here.
If you are reading this, and if you are involved in a community, whether it be roller derby or otherwise, be conscious of your word choice. It makes a difference. Instead of using the word "lady," let's use the word "folks." Or my favorite in roller derby, "skaters." We are not all ladies; we are not all defined by this word. Let's work on making this a more inclusive world by understanding that sometimes our words oppress others, and doing something about it.
Saturday, August 8, 2015
Skating and Thinking
I had my first self-date today! Granted, it was a pretty safe one, but I did something by myself, and had a great time.
I went roller skating! Ok, so the purpose was twofold. I am going to start practicing with the local derby team tomorrow, so I wanted to see what the floor was like at the rink they practice at. It's grippy. I don't have hard enough wheels. So now taking donations for wheels with a 95 hardness :)
The other purpose was to get out of the apartment, and commit to my self dates. It was good. I have to admit, I was so nervous walking into that place alone. And then I get there, and there are world champion speed skaters zooming around on the floor. Good. But I skated. I got a hang of the floor, and it felt so good. There's something about my skates that make me feel amazing. I also had the urge to hip-check a few children, so I think I'm ready for contact.
But here's the thing I wanted to talk about. I had a lot of time today to reflect, and I have been reflecting on my grandma. A little bit of background: I grew up right next door to my grandparents. My grandma was my main babysitter, and basically raised me throughout my life. My grandma didn't have a mean bone in her body. She never judged anyone. She worked hard to make life better for other people. She was the most selfless, caring, loving, and amazing person I have ever met. If anyone were to ask me the person that has had the biggest influence on me in my life, it would be my grandma. No hesitations. My grandma was the only one in my family that has ever said she's proud of me. She always supported me and thought I was amazing, no matter what. Her hugs were my favorite feeling in the world.
Grandma passed away in November after a really short battle with ovarian cancer. Of course she never took care of herself, and the cancer was too far gone when we found it. Chemo didn't work. I flew to Minnesota and took grandma to her second round of chemo, and I keep replaying that day in my mind. We were sitting there, her hooked up to an IV and her chemo treatment, and me sitting next to her drinking hot chocolate. Every single person that stopped by and said hi or asked if she was ok, she introduced me to them. And with this huge smile on her face, she would say "this is my granddaughter from New York. She plays roller derby." And everyone acted like they were interested, and we had a short conversation, and then they left. Grandma was so proud of me. That day, she told me about how she ran away to Chicago after she graduated high school, and how she thinks of me as a version of herself. We were the wild women that left the family to go and make our own adventures.
In that conversation, grandma also said a few times, "please come home." At the time, I couldn't explain to her why I couldn't go home. I can still hear those words in my head, and hear the urgency in her voice. It breaks my heart to think that my grandma wanted me closer, and I didn't do anything about it.
My grandma was always the person who lifted me up and made me think that things will be alright. It doesn't matter if she knew what was going on in my life, but she could always read in my voice if I needed a kind word, or some encouragement. She always made me feel loved, cared for, and supported. No matter what.
I'm going through a really tough time in my life right now. As I struggle with my mental health and I struggle with my emotional well being and all the transitions in my life, all I want to do is pick up the phone and call my grandma. I obviously can't. I don't know how to get through my life without her. I don't know how to be confident in myself without her. I don't know how to keep moving forward without her. I just want her to tell me it's alright.
So this is my challenge. I need to mourn my grandma properly. I need to still have her in my life, but in a different way. And be ok with that. I need to find confidence within myself, and not from an external source. The last words my grandma said to me was "always remember that I love you very much." And I do, I will always remember that.
I miss her. More than I can write. I know time heals, and I know that it'll get easier once things get better. But right now, I just need to remember that I know my grandma is proud of me. I know she would be happy that I am continuing the "wild women" adventures. I love you grandma. I promise to do you proud.
I went roller skating! Ok, so the purpose was twofold. I am going to start practicing with the local derby team tomorrow, so I wanted to see what the floor was like at the rink they practice at. It's grippy. I don't have hard enough wheels. So now taking donations for wheels with a 95 hardness :)
The other purpose was to get out of the apartment, and commit to my self dates. It was good. I have to admit, I was so nervous walking into that place alone. And then I get there, and there are world champion speed skaters zooming around on the floor. Good. But I skated. I got a hang of the floor, and it felt so good. There's something about my skates that make me feel amazing. I also had the urge to hip-check a few children, so I think I'm ready for contact.
But here's the thing I wanted to talk about. I had a lot of time today to reflect, and I have been reflecting on my grandma. A little bit of background: I grew up right next door to my grandparents. My grandma was my main babysitter, and basically raised me throughout my life. My grandma didn't have a mean bone in her body. She never judged anyone. She worked hard to make life better for other people. She was the most selfless, caring, loving, and amazing person I have ever met. If anyone were to ask me the person that has had the biggest influence on me in my life, it would be my grandma. No hesitations. My grandma was the only one in my family that has ever said she's proud of me. She always supported me and thought I was amazing, no matter what. Her hugs were my favorite feeling in the world.
Grandma passed away in November after a really short battle with ovarian cancer. Of course she never took care of herself, and the cancer was too far gone when we found it. Chemo didn't work. I flew to Minnesota and took grandma to her second round of chemo, and I keep replaying that day in my mind. We were sitting there, her hooked up to an IV and her chemo treatment, and me sitting next to her drinking hot chocolate. Every single person that stopped by and said hi or asked if she was ok, she introduced me to them. And with this huge smile on her face, she would say "this is my granddaughter from New York. She plays roller derby." And everyone acted like they were interested, and we had a short conversation, and then they left. Grandma was so proud of me. That day, she told me about how she ran away to Chicago after she graduated high school, and how she thinks of me as a version of herself. We were the wild women that left the family to go and make our own adventures.
In that conversation, grandma also said a few times, "please come home." At the time, I couldn't explain to her why I couldn't go home. I can still hear those words in my head, and hear the urgency in her voice. It breaks my heart to think that my grandma wanted me closer, and I didn't do anything about it.
My grandma was always the person who lifted me up and made me think that things will be alright. It doesn't matter if she knew what was going on in my life, but she could always read in my voice if I needed a kind word, or some encouragement. She always made me feel loved, cared for, and supported. No matter what.
I'm going through a really tough time in my life right now. As I struggle with my mental health and I struggle with my emotional well being and all the transitions in my life, all I want to do is pick up the phone and call my grandma. I obviously can't. I don't know how to get through my life without her. I don't know how to be confident in myself without her. I don't know how to keep moving forward without her. I just want her to tell me it's alright.
So this is my challenge. I need to mourn my grandma properly. I need to still have her in my life, but in a different way. And be ok with that. I need to find confidence within myself, and not from an external source. The last words my grandma said to me was "always remember that I love you very much." And I do, I will always remember that.
I miss her. More than I can write. I know time heals, and I know that it'll get easier once things get better. But right now, I just need to remember that I know my grandma is proud of me. I know she would be happy that I am continuing the "wild women" adventures. I love you grandma. I promise to do you proud.
Monday, August 3, 2015
Welcome Back and New Changes!
Welcome back to me to the blogging world! I quit writing this blog for several reasons, but life situations have happened to me in which I need an outlet. Blogging and writing have always been a great outlet for me, so here I am.
Here's the biggest change. I moved across the country. I currently reside in Washington state, and have been now for 4 days. In my 4 days, I have actually rented an apartment for the first time ever, gotten renter's insurance, and visited Ikea twice. I feel very adult.
One may be asking why I decided to make the trek across the country. Me, a uHaul, and my two cats driving for five days straight, staying in Motel 6s, and eating lots of fast food. Well, that's a good story. The short answer for anyone that asks is that I got a great job. And I really did. It's a job that aligns with my career goals, seems supportive of me, and has free coffee. What more could I ask for? Oh yeah, and a substantial pay raise. Perfection. But not quite.
When I started the job search months ago, I had a very different goal in mind. Yes, I wanted to have a better job in a better environment. But I also had someone in the Pacific Northwest that I wanted to be close to. We both wanted that. And then things went bad. We eventually ended things before I accepted the job, so that's not the reason at all why I am out here. That's not the purpose of this post though. Just some context for y'all.
So I got the job. I don't have anyone I want to be close to here anymore. And I moved 3,000 miles away from everything I knew for this job that may or may not be amazing. To a place that I may or may not grow to love. Away from people that I have grown so close to, and from people that I call family. But here's the thing. Everything I am doing, I need to reframe in my mind. I need to reframe why I moved out here. I need to reframe what my activities are going to be. I need to reframe my social life. All while healing from a broken heart and having constant triggers of this person I am trying to get over.
I guess I need some accountability. I have never had a broken heart quite like this before. I am generally a thinker- I can rationalize myself out of or into anything. But when my heart and all these feelings are involved, I don't know how to deal with it all. And rational thought is failing me for this situation. So I am making a pledge to myself to work on myself and grow to love myself and everything I have in life.
Hindsight is 20/20, right? Looking to where I am now, I have lost a lot. I don't have the confidence in myself that I used to have. I don't have the strong sense of self that I used to have. I want to gain that back. I want to be happy again. I want to be happy being me. I know I can do that. So here's what I want to do.
I pledge to start self-love again. I am going to take myself out on dates. As an extreme introvert, I HATE going places by myself. I hate walking into movies or restaurants, or even a business by myself, because I am afraid of what will happen. But guess what? I'm writing this from a coffee shop that I walked into all by myself. And I'm surviving! This is my first self-date. I figure these self-dates will be helpful in several ways. First of all, it'll allow me to explore my area. If I'm honest with myself, I know that I am going to love Washington. Hiking, beaches, camping, coffee, museums, there is SO MUCH to do here! I can't wait to explore it all. It's everything I love, in close distance. I can't wait.
Self-dates will also help me to get out of my comfort zone. I guarantee you that all I want to do right now is curl up in bed and cry my heart out, but I'm not going to do that. That's not going to solve anything. I am allowing myself to cry. I am allowing myself to feel sad sometimes, and to feel lonely sometimes. But I am also allowing myself to get up and do something about it. I want to find happiness in the small things in my life, and this is a way of doing that.
Additionally, self-dates are going to help me feel confident and productive. As an example, in my first self-date to the BlueBeard Coffee Shop (recommended by Autostraddle), I have changed my address on all my accounts, purchased renter's insurance, registered my cats (who knew I had to do that?) and paid off my car. I have also figured out where all the queer people are in this so called "Gayest City in America." Being productive helps me feel better about myself, thus boosting my confidence. See, it's a great cycle!
If you want to take this journey with me, I would love it. If you don't, no worries. You don't have to read these, but I hope that my blogging will help me actually complete these self-dates, and help me from getting too down on myself. Mistakes will happen. But hopefully I will slowly start to build my self-confidence again, and I'll start to become the person I know I am. That's what life is all about, right? Self discovery and becoming a better, stronger person all the time.
My goal is to write up each self-date here, along with any revelations or setbacks I have. I need to be completely honest with myself to continue my growth, so here it is. Welcome to my world.
PS: The cats are doing fine, in case you are wondering. As a cat lady, I can't not write about them too! Our new apartment has a large patio with glass sliding doors, along with a great window sill for them to sit on and watch the world outside. They love it, and while there is not a ton of running space, I think we'll be just fine!
Here's the biggest change. I moved across the country. I currently reside in Washington state, and have been now for 4 days. In my 4 days, I have actually rented an apartment for the first time ever, gotten renter's insurance, and visited Ikea twice. I feel very adult.
One may be asking why I decided to make the trek across the country. Me, a uHaul, and my two cats driving for five days straight, staying in Motel 6s, and eating lots of fast food. Well, that's a good story. The short answer for anyone that asks is that I got a great job. And I really did. It's a job that aligns with my career goals, seems supportive of me, and has free coffee. What more could I ask for? Oh yeah, and a substantial pay raise. Perfection. But not quite.
When I started the job search months ago, I had a very different goal in mind. Yes, I wanted to have a better job in a better environment. But I also had someone in the Pacific Northwest that I wanted to be close to. We both wanted that. And then things went bad. We eventually ended things before I accepted the job, so that's not the reason at all why I am out here. That's not the purpose of this post though. Just some context for y'all.
So I got the job. I don't have anyone I want to be close to here anymore. And I moved 3,000 miles away from everything I knew for this job that may or may not be amazing. To a place that I may or may not grow to love. Away from people that I have grown so close to, and from people that I call family. But here's the thing. Everything I am doing, I need to reframe in my mind. I need to reframe why I moved out here. I need to reframe what my activities are going to be. I need to reframe my social life. All while healing from a broken heart and having constant triggers of this person I am trying to get over.
I guess I need some accountability. I have never had a broken heart quite like this before. I am generally a thinker- I can rationalize myself out of or into anything. But when my heart and all these feelings are involved, I don't know how to deal with it all. And rational thought is failing me for this situation. So I am making a pledge to myself to work on myself and grow to love myself and everything I have in life.
Hindsight is 20/20, right? Looking to where I am now, I have lost a lot. I don't have the confidence in myself that I used to have. I don't have the strong sense of self that I used to have. I want to gain that back. I want to be happy again. I want to be happy being me. I know I can do that. So here's what I want to do.
I pledge to start self-love again. I am going to take myself out on dates. As an extreme introvert, I HATE going places by myself. I hate walking into movies or restaurants, or even a business by myself, because I am afraid of what will happen. But guess what? I'm writing this from a coffee shop that I walked into all by myself. And I'm surviving! This is my first self-date. I figure these self-dates will be helpful in several ways. First of all, it'll allow me to explore my area. If I'm honest with myself, I know that I am going to love Washington. Hiking, beaches, camping, coffee, museums, there is SO MUCH to do here! I can't wait to explore it all. It's everything I love, in close distance. I can't wait.
Self-dates will also help me to get out of my comfort zone. I guarantee you that all I want to do right now is curl up in bed and cry my heart out, but I'm not going to do that. That's not going to solve anything. I am allowing myself to cry. I am allowing myself to feel sad sometimes, and to feel lonely sometimes. But I am also allowing myself to get up and do something about it. I want to find happiness in the small things in my life, and this is a way of doing that.
Additionally, self-dates are going to help me feel confident and productive. As an example, in my first self-date to the BlueBeard Coffee Shop (recommended by Autostraddle), I have changed my address on all my accounts, purchased renter's insurance, registered my cats (who knew I had to do that?) and paid off my car. I have also figured out where all the queer people are in this so called "Gayest City in America." Being productive helps me feel better about myself, thus boosting my confidence. See, it's a great cycle!
If you want to take this journey with me, I would love it. If you don't, no worries. You don't have to read these, but I hope that my blogging will help me actually complete these self-dates, and help me from getting too down on myself. Mistakes will happen. But hopefully I will slowly start to build my self-confidence again, and I'll start to become the person I know I am. That's what life is all about, right? Self discovery and becoming a better, stronger person all the time.
My goal is to write up each self-date here, along with any revelations or setbacks I have. I need to be completely honest with myself to continue my growth, so here it is. Welcome to my world.
PS: The cats are doing fine, in case you are wondering. As a cat lady, I can't not write about them too! Our new apartment has a large patio with glass sliding doors, along with a great window sill for them to sit on and watch the world outside. They love it, and while there is not a ton of running space, I think we'll be just fine!
Tuesday, October 22, 2013
How to be "homeless"
A few years ago, one of my work colleagues was telling a story about how she coordinated a Toys for Tots drive. She collected hundreds of toys from an event, and then apparently forgot to drop the toys off at the donation site. So she jumped out of bed early one morning, no time to shower, and apparently, as she described herself, wasn't looking too pretty. She was in old sweats, her hair a mess, and was wearing some old Ugg boots on her feet.
When this woman pulled into the donation site, one of the volunteers apparently looked at her and said "sorry ma'am, we don't open until noon today," or something to that effect. The point is, the volunteer mistook my colleague for someone that wanted to pick out toys for her family, instead of someone that was coming to make a donation.
My colleague, and most of my work friends, loved this story. It was repeated every holiday season, and I am sure it still is. Everyone thought it was funny that someone that really wasn't homeless could very easily be mistaken for someone that was homeless, based solely on looking disheveled.
Additionally, have you seen the story that went around social media sites, in which a pastor "transformed" himself into a homeless man? And people treated him completely differently?
Here's my issue with stories like this. You cannot assume class status or homelessness based on looks. How does one transform into homeless? My thought would be to actually sell your house and have nowhere to call home. But this is not what this pastor did. This pastor just dressed in "grungy" clothing.
I can tell you that not all homeless people, or not all people in the lower-economic class are grungy.
When I was in college, I wanted to be a news reporter. I spent a week in Minneapolis, doing a special feature for my college news channel about homelessness in the city. I interviewed a lot of people that actually were homeless, and I started to learn a lot more about what it meant to be homeless. Yes, I will fully acknowledge that some people in this situation did not have the best hygiene or the best clothes. But there also are reasons for that. When you don't have a constant place to live, where do you get a consistent shower, sink, or even hygiene items?
But that is not always the case. I also met people that were wearing clean clothing, professional clothes, and smelled clean. I met people that were struggling to find work, a home, and a safe place for their family, but still looked well put together.
Here's my thing. Never assume someone's situation or class status based on their looks. You will never know what their situation is, you will never know their circumstance. There is no look to someone that is homeless. Everyone looks different, everyone has a different experience.
I think this look of homelessness also begs a larger issue, in that we can be doing more to help people that do not have a place to live. In doing my research in Minneapolis, I was able to attend a meeting by the X Committee, who I hope is still in existence today. This group was started by folks that were homeless, as a way to speak up for themselves and try to make changes and help out other homeless individuals. In listening to their stories, my biggest take-away was how hard it was to find a job. Even if someone has a job, it might not be enough to support themselves. And it's hard to get a job when you can't look socially "presentable" during the interview. And you have to carry all of your personal belongings into the interview. The X Committee, when I was there, was working on renting out lockers to folks going on job interviews, just so they didn't have to carry their belongings into a work setting. This is one very small, but very big improvement that can be made.
There is still a huge social stigma with homelessness. Society judges people based on their appearance, and based on where they are in life. I cannot even begin to count how many times people have told me not to feel sorry for homeless people, because they put themselves into that situation. Regardless of whether that is true or not (and I would argue it hardly ever is), why does it matter? Social justice isn't about judging people for how they got there, it's about making sure everyone feels like a human being. And by the way society treats folks that are homeless, I don't believe we are doing a good job.
It's not about just giving people money if they need it. It's about hearing their stories. Looking people in the eye, regardless of their situation. It's about treating people with respect, regardless of what they look like or smell like. It's about not assuming a person's situation based on their looks, because that just perpetuates a much larger issue in society. It's about speaking up and fighting these thoughts.
So my challenge to in, in this blog post, is to think about what you are saying when it comes to folks being homeless. Do you judge based on their appearance? What does that mean? Have you ever joked around with your friends and said they look homeless based on their messy appearance? I challenge you to just stop and think, because you can never assume a person's situation until you actually ask them. So do it. If you have questions or assumptions, just ask.
When this woman pulled into the donation site, one of the volunteers apparently looked at her and said "sorry ma'am, we don't open until noon today," or something to that effect. The point is, the volunteer mistook my colleague for someone that wanted to pick out toys for her family, instead of someone that was coming to make a donation.
My colleague, and most of my work friends, loved this story. It was repeated every holiday season, and I am sure it still is. Everyone thought it was funny that someone that really wasn't homeless could very easily be mistaken for someone that was homeless, based solely on looking disheveled.
Additionally, have you seen the story that went around social media sites, in which a pastor "transformed" himself into a homeless man? And people treated him completely differently?
Here's my issue with stories like this. You cannot assume class status or homelessness based on looks. How does one transform into homeless? My thought would be to actually sell your house and have nowhere to call home. But this is not what this pastor did. This pastor just dressed in "grungy" clothing.
I can tell you that not all homeless people, or not all people in the lower-economic class are grungy.
When I was in college, I wanted to be a news reporter. I spent a week in Minneapolis, doing a special feature for my college news channel about homelessness in the city. I interviewed a lot of people that actually were homeless, and I started to learn a lot more about what it meant to be homeless. Yes, I will fully acknowledge that some people in this situation did not have the best hygiene or the best clothes. But there also are reasons for that. When you don't have a constant place to live, where do you get a consistent shower, sink, or even hygiene items?
But that is not always the case. I also met people that were wearing clean clothing, professional clothes, and smelled clean. I met people that were struggling to find work, a home, and a safe place for their family, but still looked well put together.
Here's my thing. Never assume someone's situation or class status based on their looks. You will never know what their situation is, you will never know their circumstance. There is no look to someone that is homeless. Everyone looks different, everyone has a different experience.
I think this look of homelessness also begs a larger issue, in that we can be doing more to help people that do not have a place to live. In doing my research in Minneapolis, I was able to attend a meeting by the X Committee, who I hope is still in existence today. This group was started by folks that were homeless, as a way to speak up for themselves and try to make changes and help out other homeless individuals. In listening to their stories, my biggest take-away was how hard it was to find a job. Even if someone has a job, it might not be enough to support themselves. And it's hard to get a job when you can't look socially "presentable" during the interview. And you have to carry all of your personal belongings into the interview. The X Committee, when I was there, was working on renting out lockers to folks going on job interviews, just so they didn't have to carry their belongings into a work setting. This is one very small, but very big improvement that can be made.
There is still a huge social stigma with homelessness. Society judges people based on their appearance, and based on where they are in life. I cannot even begin to count how many times people have told me not to feel sorry for homeless people, because they put themselves into that situation. Regardless of whether that is true or not (and I would argue it hardly ever is), why does it matter? Social justice isn't about judging people for how they got there, it's about making sure everyone feels like a human being. And by the way society treats folks that are homeless, I don't believe we are doing a good job.
It's not about just giving people money if they need it. It's about hearing their stories. Looking people in the eye, regardless of their situation. It's about treating people with respect, regardless of what they look like or smell like. It's about not assuming a person's situation based on their looks, because that just perpetuates a much larger issue in society. It's about speaking up and fighting these thoughts.
So my challenge to in, in this blog post, is to think about what you are saying when it comes to folks being homeless. Do you judge based on their appearance? What does that mean? Have you ever joked around with your friends and said they look homeless based on their messy appearance? I challenge you to just stop and think, because you can never assume a person's situation until you actually ask them. So do it. If you have questions or assumptions, just ask.
Friday, October 11, 2013
National Coming Out Day
Today, October 11, marks the 25th anniversary of National Coming Out Day. It's a "holiday" created by individuals to raise awareness and promote a safe space for people that identify as lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, queer, or allies. From my reading of the history of the movement, it all started with a march in Washington to promote the rights of gay individuals, and has become a celebration of sorts from there on out.
That being said, I struggle with National Coming Out Day. Or maybe just coming out in general. Listen, I get it. I understand how important it is to come out. I understand how important it is to have visibility of LGBTQ individuals in the world, and I know how important it is to "normalize" being queer. I fight for all of that, and I truly and honestly believe it.
But. Here's my struggle. Some people cannot come out. I feel that there are times in the queer community where if someone is not "out" and "proud," they are shamed. And that sucks. Nobody should ever be pressured to come out, for many reasons. We don't know everyone's life and struggle. We don't understand where everyone is coming from. Maybe it's not safe for them to come out. Maybe that is not their priority at the moment.
Coming out is great. Visibility is great. I truly believe it is important and necessary to be out, to make being queer a natural part of society and life. I think we have made some great strides towards this recently, and it has been because people are coming out. I think coming out is great.
But I also hate the idea of coming out, because it sensationalizes something that shouldn't be sensationalized. Who cares if I am dating a man or a woman? Heterosexual individuals don't need to come out. So why do queer individuals? I dream of a world where a teenager can simply start dating someone without conversations or judgment, regardless of sex or gender. I completely understand that this is not the world we live in. And one of the only ways to live in this world is for more and more people to come out and make being queer a natural and normal thing in society. I get it.
So basically, I have no answers. All I know is that I am always a bit uncomfortable when National Coming Out Day comes around, because I know for some queer folks, this means pressure. It means serious debates and guilty feelings, and questioning your personal responsibility versus your personal safety. So here's my thought. Let's celebrate National Coming Out Day. Let's celebrate being queer and work on being visible. But let's also not shame people that can't come out. Let's provide a supportive and educational environment for ALL people, in whatever stage of life they are in. No judgment, no harm, no pressure. Just a day to celebrate queerness, be supportive of all people, and enjoy life.
That being said, I struggle with National Coming Out Day. Or maybe just coming out in general. Listen, I get it. I understand how important it is to come out. I understand how important it is to have visibility of LGBTQ individuals in the world, and I know how important it is to "normalize" being queer. I fight for all of that, and I truly and honestly believe it.
But. Here's my struggle. Some people cannot come out. I feel that there are times in the queer community where if someone is not "out" and "proud," they are shamed. And that sucks. Nobody should ever be pressured to come out, for many reasons. We don't know everyone's life and struggle. We don't understand where everyone is coming from. Maybe it's not safe for them to come out. Maybe that is not their priority at the moment.
Coming out is great. Visibility is great. I truly believe it is important and necessary to be out, to make being queer a natural part of society and life. I think we have made some great strides towards this recently, and it has been because people are coming out. I think coming out is great.
But I also hate the idea of coming out, because it sensationalizes something that shouldn't be sensationalized. Who cares if I am dating a man or a woman? Heterosexual individuals don't need to come out. So why do queer individuals? I dream of a world where a teenager can simply start dating someone without conversations or judgment, regardless of sex or gender. I completely understand that this is not the world we live in. And one of the only ways to live in this world is for more and more people to come out and make being queer a natural and normal thing in society. I get it.
So basically, I have no answers. All I know is that I am always a bit uncomfortable when National Coming Out Day comes around, because I know for some queer folks, this means pressure. It means serious debates and guilty feelings, and questioning your personal responsibility versus your personal safety. So here's my thought. Let's celebrate National Coming Out Day. Let's celebrate being queer and work on being visible. But let's also not shame people that can't come out. Let's provide a supportive and educational environment for ALL people, in whatever stage of life they are in. No judgment, no harm, no pressure. Just a day to celebrate queerness, be supportive of all people, and enjoy life.
Monday, July 1, 2013
Tigers Above, Tigers Below
Have you ever heard of that story, in which a person is hanging on a cliff, with only a branch to hold onto? There are tigers below, and tigers above. The person can't climb up, the tigers are chewing away at the branch, and it is inevitable the person will die regardless of which way they turn. But the person then sees an apple, and reaches to it, and starts to eat this delicious apple.
Even in my terrible storytelling paraphrasing, the point of this story is to enjoy the little moments in life. Death is inevitable; pain and heartache is inevitable. But if you focus on the small things, the little things that bring you happiness, it is easier to live in the moment and understand what life is all about.
I have been thinking about this a lot lately, in my quest for happiness. If you follow my blog at all, you know happiness is a concept I struggle with a lot. Lately it has been even more of a struggle, as my life has taken me on very unexpected journeys and unexpected twists and turns. I am trying hard to refocus and figure out what I want in my life, and with that comes a lot of soul searching.
This Tigers Above, Tigers Below story really speaks to me. One of the biggest things I have been trying to focus on is what makes me happy. Not for an entire day, not for an entire hour even. In each moment, what makes my soul soar? What is my apple?
And I am beginning to realize it is the little things. It's the way my cats drop their toy mice at my feet. It's the way my heart feels lighter when my roller skates hit the floor. It's the way sitting at a diner at midnight with my derby team makes me feel, laughing like a 12 year old kid. It's the way a warm mug of coffee feels against my hands in the morning. It's the feeling of a hot shower after a long and sweaty practice. It's how I feel when I execute a good move at a derby scrimmage.
I can't change the fact that there are tigers above me, and tigers below me. They will always be there. Sometimes they are me and my mind. There will always be those obstacles, those things that just plain suck. But what I can change is my perspective. I don't need to always focus on those tigers. I don't need to let them bother me. Because I can find something that makes me feel better. And I need to do it.
So here's my goal. In order to refocus my life and try to be a happier me, I am going to focus on my apples. Yes, there are always the tigers. A lot of tigers, lately. But you make the best of the situation. You focus on what you can control, you change your perspective, and you live in the moment. I had this "aha!" moment this evening. I was feeling pretty shitty about a lot of things, and I am incredibly stressed out at the moment. I was trying to clean my apartment when Albus, the sweetest cat in the world, dropped his toy mouse at my feet and looked up expectantly at me. His face was so proud, and it just made me laugh out loud. My heart instantly lightened.
It's things like that. I'm not going to ignore the bad. I'm not going to create a false sense of reality. But I am going to try to remember the good feelings, bring what makes me happy to myself, and change my perspective on things. It won't be easy, it takes practice to refocus from those tigers. But I am ready for the challenge, because I need it in life.
And to inspire you, if you would like, one of my favorite singers, Ellis Delaney, performing her song "Tigers Above, Tigers Below:"
Even in my terrible storytelling paraphrasing, the point of this story is to enjoy the little moments in life. Death is inevitable; pain and heartache is inevitable. But if you focus on the small things, the little things that bring you happiness, it is easier to live in the moment and understand what life is all about.
I have been thinking about this a lot lately, in my quest for happiness. If you follow my blog at all, you know happiness is a concept I struggle with a lot. Lately it has been even more of a struggle, as my life has taken me on very unexpected journeys and unexpected twists and turns. I am trying hard to refocus and figure out what I want in my life, and with that comes a lot of soul searching.
This Tigers Above, Tigers Below story really speaks to me. One of the biggest things I have been trying to focus on is what makes me happy. Not for an entire day, not for an entire hour even. In each moment, what makes my soul soar? What is my apple?
And I am beginning to realize it is the little things. It's the way my cats drop their toy mice at my feet. It's the way my heart feels lighter when my roller skates hit the floor. It's the way sitting at a diner at midnight with my derby team makes me feel, laughing like a 12 year old kid. It's the way a warm mug of coffee feels against my hands in the morning. It's the feeling of a hot shower after a long and sweaty practice. It's how I feel when I execute a good move at a derby scrimmage.
I can't change the fact that there are tigers above me, and tigers below me. They will always be there. Sometimes they are me and my mind. There will always be those obstacles, those things that just plain suck. But what I can change is my perspective. I don't need to always focus on those tigers. I don't need to let them bother me. Because I can find something that makes me feel better. And I need to do it.
So here's my goal. In order to refocus my life and try to be a happier me, I am going to focus on my apples. Yes, there are always the tigers. A lot of tigers, lately. But you make the best of the situation. You focus on what you can control, you change your perspective, and you live in the moment. I had this "aha!" moment this evening. I was feeling pretty shitty about a lot of things, and I am incredibly stressed out at the moment. I was trying to clean my apartment when Albus, the sweetest cat in the world, dropped his toy mouse at my feet and looked up expectantly at me. His face was so proud, and it just made me laugh out loud. My heart instantly lightened.
It's things like that. I'm not going to ignore the bad. I'm not going to create a false sense of reality. But I am going to try to remember the good feelings, bring what makes me happy to myself, and change my perspective on things. It won't be easy, it takes practice to refocus from those tigers. But I am ready for the challenge, because I need it in life.
And to inspire you, if you would like, one of my favorite singers, Ellis Delaney, performing her song "Tigers Above, Tigers Below:"
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