Tag: society

Ontogeny

MissM1 Comment

Please excuse my extended absence from the blogging world as my time, energy, and soul have been completely consumed by collegiate education and self-discovery over the course of the past quarter-year.

I am a Psychology major, and even though I have no intention of working in this field, I feel that my studies have facilitated a complete shift in the framework of my worldview of humankind, in addition to the pace and style in which I conduct my day-to-day life.

I am a new person.

Okay, perhaps not a NEW person. I am still definitely myself, idiosyncrasies and all. But something clicked within me and created a (hopefully) permanent change in my outlook on life, and how I want to live it.

Perhaps the most impactful thing I learned all semester was a concept coined by Carl Rogers, a humanistic psychologist. He calls it “existential living.”

Existential living can be summarized by living in the “here and now.” This requires being fully present, both mentally and physically, in every moment and every environment you are placed in, which, as you can imagine, can prove exceptionally difficult to do when you have six upper-division level courses constantly competing for your attention, among other things like, I dunno, men? Facebook? Grey’s Anatomy? Philosophical podcasts?

I am guilty as charged for my preoccupation with the future, which I feel has robbed me of having meaningful experiences in the present. My former self never made time for actual experiences, other people, or simply stopping to smell the roses every now and then. Fortunately, a series of interrelated events and individuals have yanked me back from the future, and I am much more open to experience, flexible, and, dare I say it, relaxed.

I’ve learned a thing or two ever since this lightbulb went off in my little head. Let’s list them off, for organizational purposes.

  1. You don’t have to protect yourself from everyone. My previous self was so concerned about my own endeavors that I put relationships with other people on the back-burner. I had such tunnel vision that I had convinced myself that I didn’t need anyone else until I’d maxed out to my fullest potential. In retrospect, I admit that I was making excuses for my self-induced isolation as a defense mechanism. However, my newfound understanding of the human psyche has convinced me that people aren’t meant to go through any part of life alone. Attempting to do so can make you crazy, but, then again, so can people. It’s all about balance.
  2. More often than not, there is no definite answer. This concept terrifies me to this day, but I’m becoming more and more comfortable with it. The reason why I do not intend to work in the field of Psychology is due to the fact that there are so few, if any, definite answers as to why people behave the way they do, and, as I mentioned earlier, I don’t like that one bit. I’ve decided to focus my energy on the biological sciences, which are arguably significantly more concrete than theories attempting to account for human behavior. Take Freud, for example. The guy was a total nut case, and any theory I can draft up pertaining to psychological phenomena is just as valid as his were.
  3.  I can’t be good at everything. I suffer from chronic perfectionism. Now, I know what you’re thinking. “Poor M, what a curse, to HAVE to be perfect at everything. Cry me a river.” Where’s your empathy, folks? Claiming perfectionism is not intended to draw attention to my accomplishments. It’s a symptom of anxiety, and it has claimed more years of my life than I would like to admit. Anyway, the reason I include this in my “Life Lessons Learned Spring 2016 Greatest Hits” is because, for the first time in my life, I faced the possibility of failing a class. As it turns out, I am no statistician, and I don’t play one on TV. In all honesty, I exhausted my mental resources in the fight for a satisfactory grade in my Statistics course, and no matter how hard I tried, I was incapable of earning an A in this class. My previous self would have been devastated, my self-esteem shattered. I got a B. My current self thanks the heavens that I passed the class, and has severed the tie between my grades and my own perception of self-worth and competence.
  4. There is no rush. I plowed through my undergraduate degree. This December, I’ll be receiving my diploma at the ripe age of 21, just three years after graduating high school. While I am extremely proud of this accomplishment, a part of me wishes that I’d allowed myself to enjoy the journey a little bit more, and perhaps I could have achieved a higher level of authenticity and security in what I want to become. Besides, I have the rest of my life to go to graduate school, and then work until I can retire in the next 50 years or so and live happily ever after with an obscene amount of dogs at my side.
  5. Breathe. This one was probably the most beneficial to my physiological health. I am a frequent panic-attack victim, however, despite this semester being my heaviest course load, I experienced minimal panic-attacks, and my heart thanks me, due to my newfound ability to control my own stress levels. Rather than allow myself to activate full freak-out mode, I am now able to withdraw from the stressful stimulus, recompose myself, align my Chakras, and return to the task at hand as a much more composed and serene individual.

I’m sure that I’ve learned numerous other lessons over the past four months, but for some reason, we as a species are comfortable with the number 5. Besides, I’m sure that you all are tired of hearing my enlightened self express how enlightened I am.

Anyway, I exited this semester more sane than I entered it, which is refreshing, because I only have a week to recuperate before I dive into the summer semester.

I don’t know who I am without academia.

Onward, ever onward.

M.

 

Magistral

MissM3 Comments

Being a female doesn't always mean that you have to fit into a pre-set role of femininityI am frustrated. I am frustrated because people think it’s their job to police others’ femininity or masculinity.

It’s like, we’ve all been prescribed a quota-a level of femininity or masculinity, that we are required to meet, and if we don’t, other people are entitled to confront us about our shortcomings, so that we may make adjustments.

I, like each of you, have been socialized into performing my gender by means of behavior, dress, grooming, etc., and I happen to feel secure in conducting myself in a feminine manner, which falls in line with society’s expectations of the way I’m supposed to behave and interact with others. However, this is not the case for a lot of individuals.

I have a very dear friend whose significant other has been exceedingly critical about what he perceives is a lack of femininity. Consequently, she has been adjusting her appearance and behavior in order to please him.

I find this disheartening, because I really admire this friend of mine for her ability to be herself un-apologetically, and regardless of what anyone else might think. And I like the person she is.

Men are also prescribed a very rigid list of traits to obtain in ordered to be considered as adequately masculine. For both genders, and any gender in between, the societal expectations to behave a certain way are very constraining to individuals.

Real men are buff, real women have curves; men can be scruffy, women should be void of all body hair; aggression is acceptable for men, but women should remain passive; men must be diligent breadwinners while their wives maintain their households.Being feminine is a personal choice, and should never be decided by society

You get the idea-there’s a lot of rules to remember. And if you choose to disregard some, or take on characteristics of the other gender, your femininity or masculinity is called into question.

Managing to conform into a functional member of society while simultaneously developing an individual identity can be dizzying, and quite the balancing act.

There’s no wrong way to be a woman, and no wrong way to be a man. I just wish that society would allow us to perform our genders in an authentic fashion, rather than jumping through hoops in order to meet the expectations that have been prescribed to us before even our grandparents were born.

Imagine if these hegemonic masculinities and emphasized femininities didn’t exist-I think that we all would have turned out vastly different.

M.

Purposive

MissM2 Comments

Now that everybody’s done sharing their tentative New Year’s Resolutions with their online social circles, I think i’ll finally reveal my plans to make myself a less-shitty person than I was in 2015.

 

Though I love the person I’m developing into since my faith crisis, nose-dive into feminism, and increasingly curious mind, I find myself becoming exponentially more cynical, which is something I hate about myself.

I find myself often looking for reasons to be pissed off, which makes it really, REALLY hard to be the happy, energetic ball of sunshine I once aspired to become, but will never be, due to my chronically sarcastic and brazen personality. Indeed, since I’ve been exposed to a whole new world of liberalism, I seem to have the tendency to search for things that people do that strike me as problematic, and will consequently set me off.

There are specific groups of people that are extremely hard for me to get along with (i.e. meninists, anybody who still subscribes to traditional gender roles).  I totally feel justified in avoiding individuals who fall under this category completely, but I also feel that I am much too hard on people.

For example, my dating life is a literal train wreck. Most of my interactions with men are terminated by me giving them a lengthy, wordy lecture about how sexist it is to not be interested in a girl who can’t cook, or won’t send a racy snap-chat after the first date.

I feel like I’m constantly having to defend my feminist views; nothing flips my bitch-switch faster than when a gentleman i’m dating says anything that could be seen as sexist, even if you have to flip it upside down and squint with your left eye.

So i’m going to work on that. Perhaps instead of ripping his head off every time a suitor says something I don’t agree with, I can calmly present my point of view on the matter, and then change the subject as I squeeze the hell out of the stress ball I just bought.

This resolution’s due date might extend into 2063, but it’s all about progress, people.

Additionally, I am going to get out of my own way when it comes to relationships with other people. This is a very poorly-defined goal, but I have very specific quirks that I use in order to build sky-scraping walls around myself, thus protecting my isolation.

First of all, I have got to make peace with my relationship to food and to my body. I’m talking about my obsession/preoccupation about eating in a manner that will cause me dramatic weight loss, and dutiful, religious, nauseating exercise. When one is as engrossed in the aforementioned activities as I have become, there is little time or energy left to spend on stuff that matters significantly more, and after 6 years of eating-disordered behavior and body dysmorphia, I’m tired, damn it. And ready to invest myself in building some meaningful relationships and kicking ass even harder in school.

This problem is never going to resolve itself, so I’ll have to look back into going to therapy.

I always complain about how pathetic it is that I’ve attended my current university for two years, and haven’t made a single friend, but if I’m being honest with myself, I have never once initiated any kind of effort to make friend at college. So this year is going to be different. I am going to focus on becoming more inviting, friendly, and talkative. I am going to take some risks, start some conversations, hell, even ask out a hot guy from my Stats class (after checking his finger for a ring, obviously. We have lots of super young, married folk where I’m from.)

In addition to all of these resolutions, if I have time to spare, perhaps I’ll attempt to kick my caffeine addiction.

Just kidding, I’m taking 19 credit hours. There is no way in hell I’m decreasing my latte consumption.

So there you have it. An outline of how I am going to go from a shitty person in 2015 to a noticeably less-shitty person by the end of 2016.

Happy New Year!

M.

 

 

 

 

Insouciance

MissMLeave a comment

Yet another method of misogyny was brought to my attention the other day.

My family and I were nibbling on complimentary popcorn in the office of a car dealership while our salesman went to fetch his manager because he could not satisfy my mother’s terms of negotiation.

The manager shook my dad’s hand and explained the unwillingness to budge on the terms of the sale, and then went behind some desk to carry out managerial tasks. I inferred from the way he spoke that he was not from around here originally.

About fifteen minutes after leaving our presence, the manager returned and approached my mom. He shook her hand and introduced himself.

He said, “Hi, I’m Brett. I’m not from around here, but I’ve noticed that Utah tends to ignore their women. Just the other day, my wife and I were at a restaurant, and she pulled her credit card out of her wallet and paid for the meal. When the waiter brought back the check, he returned the credit card to my possession, even though my wife was the one who provided it. I just wanted to apologize for doing the exact same thing to you earlier.”

The manager didn’t let us leave the car dealership without shaking my mom’s, sister’s, and my own hand and providing us each with a self-introduction.

I’ve been thinking a lot about what the car dealership manager said ever since he said it. It’s true, especially in business transaction situations, women, when accompanied by their men, are often overlooked and unacknowledged. Fascinating.

Why do you think that is? Do folks just assume that the guy is the one with the bucks? I get that the whole objective of the sales guy is to get money from his customer’s wallet to his company’s bank account, but come on. Completely ignoring a man’s wife when they’re in the market to make a big purchase? My mom was literally right in front of this manager guy, and it took him 15 minutes to even realize that he’d completely ignored her.

Sexism. It’s problematic and it’s everywhere.

M.

Feminists Can Like Flowers, Too.

MissM1 Comment

I am very open about the fact that I identify as a feminist. I love talking about my philosophies on the matter of equality, and I DON’T like people opening my doors for me.

Because feminism is such a huge part of who I am, I think I give off the impression that I don’t want to be taken care of. People tend to think that ALL feminists are bra-burning, anti-chivalry, prideful people. I can’t speak for anyone but myself, but I do not fall under any of the aforementioned categories. (Well, I might be a little prideful, but I think that we can attribute that to my German-ness more so than to my feminist attitudes.)

I LOVE chick flicks. I would literally melt if someone gave me flowers and/or chocolates. I’m soft and love polka dots and bows. Sometimes, I want somebody to take care of me. I want to be wined-and-dined as much as the next girl, and no, none of that invalidates my membership in the feminist community.

What it does, though, is make me feminine, and that’s not a bad thing.

And maybe that’s the problem-we tend to think that feminism and femininity are contradictions. By my understanding, however, the whole point of feminism is to put femininity on an equal playing ground as masculinity. To eliminate the stigma that feminine traits are less desirable than masculine traits.

Wanting to be taken care of and “swept off my feet,” so to speak, does not make me anything but human. The need to be taken care of is a basic human need, and one that man and womankind alike spend their lives pursuing. Wanting romantic gestures all that jazz in no way undermines my desire and belief that I should be treated as an equal.

It goes both ways. In order for a dating relationship of any sort to work, that romance thing has got to be going on. Both partners are equally responsible for keeping that “spark” alive, and co-dependence should be the desired outcome.

I am obviously capable of taking care of myself 100%. An ideal romantic interest would be able to take care of himself 100%. The co-dependence thing comes voluntarily. If people are interested in one another, they will do cute, cheesy, romantic gestures because they want to make the other person happy. Not because they are so inclined to fulfill certain roles. And I definitely don’t believe that allowing a man to court you puts you in a submissive position, especially if the both of you are putting in equal work to date each other.

The other day, I was discussing this topic with a friend of mine, and she presented me with an ultimatum. Either I put down my equality guns and let some knight in shining armor place me on a pedestal, or I keep my “independent woman” front. Why can’t a girl have something in the middle? I understand that it’s a delicate balance, but I don’t believe that it’s unattainable.

Just thinking.

M.

Cyber Courtship

MissM7 Comments

Alright humans, we need to have a talk.

Have you heard of Yik Yak? Maybe it’s a very well-known app, and i’m just behind the times as per usual, but it has been installed on my SmartPhone as of recently. I love it. It’s like, you can post anything you freaking want to, and every Yik Yaker in your area can see it without having a clue as to who the author is.

This app can be used for good, or it can be used for evil. For the most part, the newsfeed consists of humorous, slightly embarrassing entries. But, as with most things, there’s gotta be a couple of assholes who ruin it for everyone.

I’ve noticed a lot of posts on the Yak from young men (assumption) complaining about girls catfishing them on online dating sites, i.e. Tinder. One of the posts was complaining about girls that look “thick” or whatever terminology the kids are using these days, but in real life they’re just fat. I dunno, a lot of really fat-shaming comments were made in response, which was completely problematic on its own, but it got me thinking about this whole catfishing and online dating business.

So, we have social networking platforms that enable us to share everything from photos of our food to photos of ours and others’ faces with our dear friends, enemies, and strangers from Ethiopia of whom we’ve never met before, but accepted their friend requests anyway to be polite. (Guilty as charged.)

It’s no secret that basically anything posted on the World Wide Web can be viewed by anyone with access to it. Because of this, we tend to shed ourselves in the best light possible, because let’s face it, at one point or another, someone is going to see something we’ve posted on our personal pages, and it will change their opinions of us forever.

This applies especially to dating or “hook-up” apps such as Tinder. The intended use of these apps is to find an attractive being to date or make out with or whatever activities you guys do when you meet up with a Match from Tinder. I don’t wanna know.

With the objective of making oneself attractive to others, it would only make sense that we post only the best photos of ourselves, complete with the best filters that Instagram has to offer. That’s not just us ladies, I know dudes be using that Sepia as well. And yes, editing photos enables us to present ourselves in completely unrealistic ways.

Back to the catfishing, I don’t think that enhancing one’s profile photos is considered catfishing. People on dating websites should be going into these accounts with the knowledge that the information presented on anyone’s profile is a reflection of them on their very best days, plus or minus a filter.

So stop getting upset when the individual you are meeting up with from these sites doesn’t look quite like his/her photos. That would be an unrealistic expectation.

Actually, y’know what, scratch everything I just said. My real advice to you would be to get yourself off the computer and go meet some people face-to-face so that you can avoid the whole catfishing problem all together.

Swipe right!

M.

Assign

MissM6 Comments

You know how in cartoons, a giant lightbulb appears over one of the characters’ heads when he/she has an epiphany or suddenly solves the issue at hand? I swear to goodness that’s what happened to me on my last day of my Intro to Literature class. My giant lightbulb was caused by an epiphany. An epiphany as to the real reason why I declare myself a feminist.

On our last day of class, we were assigned to present a chapbook of poems that all relate under a central theme. Naturally, my theme was “Self-Representations of Women.” I actually thoroughly enjoyed this project, as I found multiple poems that I could completely relate to. Anyway, my epiphany hit in the middle of my presentation when I began slipping into the unscripted abyss that is a college kid’s Intro to Literature Chapbook Presentation.

At some point, I had said “The real problem at hand is that we assign virtually EVERYTHING a gender. It is either masculine, or feminine.” That didn’t really resonate with me until after i’d finished my presentation with the words “Smash the patriarchy!” with blushed cheeks and returned to my desk to find a hand-written note from a classmate that was seated nearby.

His note applauded me for presenting feminism in a way that had never occurred to him before, and he concurred that it is extremely problematic to assign everything from character traits to colors of the rainbow to a category of either masculine or feminine. I suggested hie look further into feminism, and we parted ways.

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about how this binary mindset our culture has ingrained in us limits us to who we think we are allowed to become. Unfortunately, femininity is considered the lesser of masculinity, giving most feminine things a negative connotation when compared to more masculine things.

For example, math and engineering, toy trucks, and football have all been deemed “masculine” and “boy activities,” and those who are not masculine are discouraged from engaging in “masculine” interests.

On the other hand, cooking, sewing, dancing, and hair-styling have all had the word “feminine” slapped to their foreheads to ward off masculine intruders.

This is problematic for dozens of reasons, and it affects all genders. Rather than allowing each individual to choose his/her interests, we steer them toward what we believe will be most fitting for them, based on their sex. This holds true not only for interests, but for emotions and personality traits, as well.

Women are supposed to be weak, submissive, gentle, soft, and nurturing. If we’re not, we’re considered masculine women, and what could be worse than that?

Men are supposed to be strong, athletic, assertive, and smart. If they’re not, they’re considered ‘femmy,’ which is even worse than being a masculine woman, because, after all, masculinity reigns supreme in the realms of the patriarchy.

I am a feminist because I don’t believe that everything a person can be needs to be assigned to a gender. Society is shaping who we are going to become, and we are playing right along with it. I am sick and tired of the “pink is for girls” and “blue is for boys.” Because I like blue, dammit. And superheroes. And math. And tacos.

Stop gendering everything, people.

M.

Voiceless

MissM4 Comments

Have you ever had a million things to say, but nobody to say them to?

That’s me, as of present.

As you can infer from previous posts, (and, quite frankly, this entire motherflippin’ website) my life is the kind of mess that Mr. Clean would shake his bald head at in surrender. As you can imagine, I have a thing or two on my mind.

My social circle is small. Like, point-of-a-freshly-sharpened-#2 Pencil-small. Recipients of my potentially verbalized thoughts are very limited.

And those within my minuscule social circle seem to not want to hear what I have to say. Granted, some of my feelings and grievances are completely irrational, (Not. Rational. I admit it, geez.) but it seems as though lately, I rarely even get the chance to finish.

Now, I’m not playing the vicim here. I found some sort of inspirational quote prompting me to become the heroine in my story, rather than the victim, so that’s what my new mindset, and phone wallpaper, as of recent.

I don’t even want sympathy. Sympathy pisses me off.

I’ll tell you what I want, what I really, really want.

I want a trusted individual to listen to a complete, raw, uncensored, irrational rant of mine, and not say a single thing until I’ve indicated that i’ve finished. Then, I want them to respond with a Denzel-Washington-From-Remember-The-Titans pep-talk, and a hug.

But for now, I will settle for writing my desires here for you lovely people, and leave it at that.

SHUT UP AND LISTEN.

M.

Veracity

MissM8 Comments

Fact: everybody has something wrong with them. That’s what makes us human.

And sometimes, once we discover what’s wrong with people, we are not willing to tolerate it. This typically ends in the termination of a relationship. I’ve been thinking lately of ways to avoid this phenomenon, and i’ve come up with a viable solution. Why don’t we all just start asking each other from the get-go, “hey, what’s the matter with you?” Just so there are no surprises.

If we all decided not to be offended by this question and just offer up our behavior-affecting issues to people as we meet them, they’ll be able to decide then and there whether or not they are willing to stick around, despite whatever issue you have shared with them. Because if they decide initially that they won’t tolerate your individualized type of crazy, it won’t hurt you as bad when they decide they’re done with you before you can develop the feels.

Like on dating websites, in addition to asking you what your hobbies and interests are, there should be a field where you can describe what makes you a little psycho. But don’t feel bad, because we’re all a little psycho. I just think that if we were all more up-front about it, we’d all get along better. It’d force us to own up to our own downfalls, too, so we can all find ourselves even if we can’t afford a plane ticket to India.

I don’t propose this idea just in the case of romantic relationships. It’s directly applicable to coworkers, friends, roommates, all of the voluntary relationships we form throughout life. Let’s all just own up to our personalized forms of crazy and wear them on our T-Shirts.

Who’s with me?

M.

Garrulous

MissM14 Comments

The beautiful thing about stereotypes is that they are never 100% true. A good example of this is the stereotype of the girl who never shuts up.

Lately, i’ve been socializing with various boys (boys? men? What is the proper terminology for males between the ages of 19 and 22?) and I have found the opposite of the “Chatty Kathy” stereotype to be true.

I don’t believe that gender has an influence on how talkative or reserved an individual is.

I’ve had a ton of fun hanging out with dudes and doing date activities and things, but sometimes I feel like I rarely get the opportunity to contribute relevant comments to a topic of conversation. People like to talk about themselves. It’s what they know best.

I like listening to others talk about things-things that happen to them, things they’re passionate about, things they hate, and I am an exceptional listener. Other peoples’ lives fascinate me, especially when they’re lives are more exciting than my own. (Which is typically the case.)

But sometimes, a fellow will be narrating a personal anecdote that sparks some kind of comment that I just HAVE to make, but it seems as though when these instances happen, the person i’m talking to suddenly learns how to speak without commas and without breathing, thus robbing me of any chance of interjecting my comment.

At this point in the conversation, I have already started verbalizing my thought, softly, though, as to not rudely interrupt, but my voice goes unheard by the speaker, and he continues on with his story.

As the conversation carries on, the speaker eventually leaves the topic of which I would really like to comment on, and begins talking about something else. At this point, I’ve almost stopped listening, because I’m trying to come up with a way to bring us both back to the topic of which I wanted to comment on, but to no avail.

Eventually, I give up, and the only comments I make are the occasional “right,” and “yeah,” and “I know what you mean,” to ensure the speaker that I have not ceased listening.

As I mentioned earlier, I love hearing people talk. And some people, once you get them going, they never stop. They plow through a plethora of topics, challenging my brain to keep up.

I guess what i’m saying is lately I feel like a lot of the conversations I engage in are practically one-sided. Which is fine, because typically I don’t have a whole lot to say, myself, but when I do, I wanna say it gosh darn it.

I wish there were a polite way to say “SHUT THE EFF UP I HAVE SOMETHING TO SAY.” Perhaps I will try throwing hard candies at peoples’ mouths when I feel that it’s my turn for the talking stick. I will report back with results on this method of interrupting someone.

M.