Directions
1-Hate yourself.
2-Convince yourself that you are fat and ugly.
3-Be surrounded by a society obsessed with semi-emaciation. Live in a culture where it is assumed, for instance, that all women want to drop four sizes in three months.
4-Work very hard on a job that keeps you on your feet for eight hour shifts, and walk two miles there and back home every day to get to said job. Then when you get home, do some more walking to get to the church, the bank, the library. Then go home and do some crunches.
5-Be unhappy and stressed out, that clouds your better judgement.
6-Have very little money with which to buy food.
7-Become so ashamed of your financial state, that you are half convinced that you don't deserve to eat.
8-Live far away from friends who will talk any sense into you or even notice that you are not eating properly.
9-(And this is the key one) Do not eat.
If you do eat something, make sure it is only one small meal a day. Like one veggie wrap, or one salad, or one yogurt. No meat, no cheese, no salt, no butter, no soda, no alchohol, very limited starches. No fat, basically, very little carbs...very little protein...I guess very little anything and everything...No chips, no crackers, no sweets of any kind. Nothing with preservatives in it. Nothing with natural and artificial flavors in it. Nothing high in calories...pretty much nothing processed. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, so skip it and drink coffee instead. The caffiene will stimulate the brain and give you a buzz so that your body will be temporarily distracted that you have not fed it. Coffee dulls hunger too, and if you drink lots of it, it will fool your body into thinking that it does not want food for HOURS. Only put a little skim milk in the coffee (FOR HEAVEN's SAKE, NO CREAM OR SUGAR!)
10-Drink tons of water. At least a dozen glasses a day. This is a distortion of something that is actually a good diet tip. If you drink a healthy amount of water, your body will not think that it is hungry when it is really just dehydrated. If you drink tons of water, it will flush everything out of your system, fool you for thirty more minutes into thinking that you dont need to eat, and keep you from passing out from light-headedness.
11-If you wake up at two in the morning, ravenous, because you have not eaten in twelve hours, instead of eating, get up and exercise. You will exhaust yourself to such an extent that you will force your body to collapse even though it is screaming at you for you to feed it.
12-Guilt yourself over everything you eat. That way, if you ever cave and eat (gasp) two meals in one day, or something with eggs or cheese in it...you will renew your efforts to never eat eggs or cheese or anything with fat in it ever again.
This will continue the cycle of guilt, shame and hunger, always, always hunger.
But hey, you might lose that accursed, hateful, hideous, loathesome body mass. You might look smaller. One day you will wake up and find that none of your clothes fit you. You will go test yourself and find that you have shrunk at a rate of more than one size per month. Then if people compliment you that you look better this way, that you are now closer to being beautiful and respectable than you were before...well then...why stop?
If people think you're so inspirational, why dissappoint them? Who knows, by Easter, you might even make it down to size ten. If people think that it is a subject of rejoicing that you shrank this much, whoa, you must have been a cow before the shrinkage!
So now you know the "inspirational" story about how I changed in only three months from being a "larger" woman to just a large woman. Is this the example you wanted? Not what you expected? Well what DID you expect? How else do you think this happens? The only other methods for this drastic change in this short a time are weight-loss drugs, lyposuction, and chronic smoking problems. But hey? At least you are thin? Right? Or thinner?
Alright, maybe this is not the healthiest way to live. But it never really was about health, was it?
Do not kid yourselves. It was about a dress size. It was about appearances.
The title of the note that you are reading is similar to an ad that you will find in any newspaper. "Lose weight faster!" "Drop twenty pounds in 30 days!" "It will make you look better!" "It will make you more desirable!" "It will turn you into a beauty queen" "Burn calories and melt fat faster! Faster! Faster!" "It will make you feel better about yourself!" "It will improve your date prospects" "It will improve your sex life".
The title of this note did not say, "10 heart-healthy tips for Sunday Brunch" or "Get off the couch and Enjoy the Fresh Air!" It said "Get smaller at an insane pace".
I will NEVER be small.
I will NEVER be skinny.
No matter how much I punish myself for it. No matter how much the world hates me for it.
On my good days this is a matter of indifference to me.
But on my bad days, which have been far more frequent of late...it leaves me with nothing but despair. Despair for what I have become and what I will degenerate into further, and despair for this taut, thin, malnourished world.
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
Wednesday, January 4, 2012
Good Girl or Bad Girl?
(Proceed with caution, contains "strong" language. What a misleading expression!)
I hear the terms "good girl" and "bad girl" thrown about all the time, by men as well as women. When I ask women what they mean by that, they usually say something vague about a "good girl" being boring, or "too cutesy" or "too passive" or "too tame" or something to be diesired in a teen or twenty-something, but not in a thirty-something, tough, real, working girl of the twenty-first century. When they try to define "bad girl" they associate her with somebody simultaneously "cool" and "hot". "Volcanic", independent, wild, unpredictable, dangerous. They might add as a caveat that though the "bad" girl is better than the "good" girl, maybe the "bad girl" is too unsafe or unstable to be ALL the time.
Most of them feel a pressure to be a weird blend of both. Hence the schizophrenia in the way women are portrayed in photos in the media. Case in point, I saw a little book at Barnes and Noble's once that was entitled: The Good Girl's Guide To Bad Girl Sex. So, if I am understanding the modern woman's dilemma correctly, we are encouraged to post photos of ourselves presently ourselves as "solid, dependable, reliable, proffessional, emancipated" women in the workplace, in our professional lives, in our familys, we can bot cute, good "girls" when we do not want to scare men away. In other words, when we are trying to convince men that we are not "gold-diggers" or spendthirifts, that we won't cheat on them, then we adopt a "good girl" expression. But we feel pressure to compete with the playboy bunnies that they stare at while they masturbate (that we can't insist that our men get rid of or stop doing, because that's being demanding, which is not "good") so we buy outfits and strike a "bad" girl pose, so that our men will continue to see us as exciting and alluring. This combination is the worst alternative of all, not only because again, women are sacrificing what is good for them (as they are too wont to do) for the unrealistic demands imposed on them by society and the men in their lives. It is also because we are allowed less to be ourselves than ever before. People talk about the "Virgin vs. Whore" mentality of a previous era, how women were tidily compartmentalized and constrained and that how this narrow way of thinking no longer is here today and aren't we fortunate and smarter than our grandparents, yahah yadah yadah.
But it is not gone. If I had been born in the '40s or 50's, I would have hated it (I hope) that if I would be considered "marriage material", graced with the condescension of my husband's dirty socks, martini mixing priveleges, and the queen of his kitchen if only I wore the appropriate clothing, did not spend too much of his hard-earned money at the beauty parlor, had dinner ready when he got home, always had a warm, gentle smile, and pretended that I knew nothing about his infidelities. If I dared to wear something too provocative, dared to reward his infidelity with argument, accusation, sulkiness, or (gasp!) an indiscretion or two of my own, or (oh horror!) left him, then I would not be "marriage material". If I flirted too much, or wore too much black, or showed too much cleavage, or gave off a certain air of sultry, wild, abandon or danced with too much hip movement, the "good" little church-going boys would know that I was not "marriage material" but that it would be perfectly exceptable to go "parking" with me for the senior dance. It would be acceptable for the Boss to call me into his office and lock the door behind us, since I was not "marriage material" anyway. I would be an acceptable candidate for Dear Old George's cheating on his wife, but he would never, never marry me. Because years ago I had made an incorrect choice, and gotten into unfavored habits, and now there is no getting out of them, because now the men can all sense that I am "bad" and that is that. "You mus'nt give your heart to a wild thing!" Holly Golightly warns about herself.
But this age has not progressed us and it still has not eradicated that way of thinking. Men, especially nauseatingly "good" churchgoing boys still talk about "good" women as "marriage" material for them and "bad" girls being very "fuck-worthy" (their words, out of their own mouths, not mine!) but not "marriage material". they are good enough to look up on porntube and good enough to drool over in movies, or fool around with before you settle down, or after you have settled down if the little woman at home does not know (but she really should not complain, as he, after all, has graced her with the honorary title of "mother of his children". The "bad" girls, you wear a condom for, or give her money for an abortion, because God forbid you should sire a child with a "bad" girl.) We still think in that way, though many of us pretend that we do not. Before at least a woman was either one or the other, now she has to be both! We reward the Vanessa Hudgens of this world for dressing provacatively and making "bad girl" faces and "bad girl" poses in front of the camera, but we gasp and frown if she sends a nude picture of herself in an email. Most women want to be a combination of sweet, approachable, funny, cute Jenniffer Aniston "America's Sweetheart", AND Angelina the fierce, tough, wild-eyed, full-lipped, femme fatale-Jolie (because Brad Pitt chose Jen at first, then left her for Jolie). Or, for an older generation, Eddie Fisher might have married Debbie Reynolds (a perfect example of the "good" girl, with her starry, wide blue eyes, cute face, warm smile, blushing cheeks and cooing voice) but he left her for Elizabeth Taylor, (who later dumped him, good for her!). It is terrible hard work to be both Debbie Reynolds (think Tammy and the Bachelor, Singing in the Rain, Bundle of Joy) AND Elizabeth Taylor (think Butterfield 8, Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, Cleopatra). To me, growing up, I never thought of them in terms of whether or not some guy thought that they were "good" or "bad". Sure, my dad alway "respected" Debbie Reynolds, but he still gaped at Elizabeth Taylor. To me, though, they were simply...women. Complex, imperfect, wonderous, pathetic, mysterious and beautiful, always, always, beautiful. They were more than the false images carved out for them, as every woman is, whether famous or not. I have been both idealized and demonized enough to know that idolization and sexualization are two sides on the same coin of objectification.
Whether a man looks me in the eyes and tells me that he wants to marry me, because I am "so good, so pure, the most perfect and unusually immaculate woman he has ever met, the most pristine in the world, blah blah blah" or stares at my breasts and says that he wants to "fuck" me because I am the "curviest, sexiest, wildest, little thang" in the club, neither of those poor fools will ever see the real me, because they have been trained like dogs to look for cues of whether each woman is a good bit of territory to bury a bone, or to piss and shit on, because some other dog has been there and had the same idea. They both think they are reading the cues correctly and picking up the right vibe, and they are both wrong. Which really breaks my heart, because men are NOT dogs. They are awe-inspiring, complex and beautiful too, and they are being cheated by the media and society that trains them to act like dogs, just as much, if not more so, than we are. And no woman EVER deserves to have her heart broken, or to be treated as though she were worthless, no matter how many men she has slept with, no matter how many inches from her collar-bone her neckline is, or how tight her jeans are, or how short her hemline. My message is not just for Christians, but it has more meaning for Christians who know that Christ said "Love your neighbor as yourself" and "if your neighbor strikes you on your right cheek, turn the other" and "Do unto others as you would have them do to you" and "You wicked servant, I FORGAVE YOU the ENTIRE DEBT! Should you not have shown mercy to your fellow?" I have read the whole bible many times and I do not recall a single passage where Christ says, "If a woman acts like a lady, treat her like a lady, but if she's a bitch, or a whore or an idiot call her a bitch, whore or idiot to her face and treat her like one" or "Women who do and say exactly what you want them to do or say all of the time are worth your time and trouble. Women who don't act the way you want them to are worthless." or "If people are sinners, the best thing to do is to never let them near anybody and to tell everybody to stay away from them. That way, they all know who is bad and who is good and the good ones can stay good, and the bad ones...can stay...bad?"
Don't misunderstand me, I am not saying that you have to be like Hosea and marry a prostitute. All I am saying is that God told Hosea to do that and chose that symbol of that poor woman to represent Us...all of us...not just the ones who have lost their virginity, no just the ones who dress improperly, not just the ones on the cover of your porn magazine, not just the one you saw at the Gentleman's club last night...He meant YOU. There is ESSENTIALLY no difference between that girl you stare at on porntube and your sister that you won't let any of your buddies date.
Regina Doman, paraphrasing Von Hildebrand wrote a brilliant little bit that expresses everything I mean, better than I can. It is from her novel, The Midnight Dancers.
"Once upon a time there were men and women in the world."
"Just as there are now." ...
"And there was a devil, as there also is now, and he desired to destroy the happiness of man and woman. So he created a twisted looking glass. The looking-glass was not a mirror, but a piece of glass so invisible that a man could look through it and not realize that he was seeing a twisted reality. And it reflected a bit, like a mirror, so a man could see himself, or what he thought was himself. ... Now, this glass was made particularly for men, and the devil made sure that the men looked through it whenever they chanced to look at women. And this glass changed the women. ... It reduced them. ...
So that, to a man looking through the glass, the woman appeared to be an object, a pretty plaything for his pleasure. Now, the man might know that the woman had brains or talents, or any number of other gifts, but when he looked through the mirror, he saw her only as a toy. And the devil made every effort to push that glass before a man's eyes when he was young as possible. So that most men were so used to looking through the glass that, even when it wasn't there, the images in the glass dictated their reality. ... There was a further trick to the devil's glass. The glass taught men to sort all women into two types--worthwhile, and not worthwhile. Or 'good' and 'bad' as some took to calling them. Good toys and bad toys. And so this was the way they had of speaking about women among themselves. And, as you can imagine, the women could'nt help overhearing these conversations. And even though most of the women had not glanced through the mirror, they could'nt help thinking of themselves in this manner. As toys. Good toys or bad toys."
"What was the difference between the good toys and the bad toys?" Rachael said, scraping at the rock with her fingernail.
"Nothing," Paul said.
"What do you mean, nothing?"
"Nothing essential. Once you have decided to see a person as a toy, the degrees between the toys are close to non-existent. But for practical purposes as far as the deluded man was concerned, there was a difference."
"Which was?" ...
"Time," Paul said slowly, "Only time. You spend more time with a good toy. Lots of time. You date her, you take her out, you pay her compliments, you might even marry her. But in the end, she's just a toy."
"And the bad toys?"
His face had a rigid, hard look to it. "You don't waste your time. You play with them, but not for long. Maybe not even twenty-four hours. And then you don't care if you ever see her again. Remember," he said, "From this twisted point of view, a smart man does not waste his time on bad toys."
"But what about Christian men?" she objected.
"Christian men were taught to look through this mirror too. Sometimes, the attached more importance to the "good" versus "bad" distinction. You have to make sure you marry a "good" toy. Because a Christian man does not waste his time on "bad' toys. You want a good toy. Just one. Or at any rate, one at a time."
... "But it's not fair!"
"Of course it's not!"
"I don't believe all men are like this!"
"They're not. But don't underestimate the power of the looking glass. ...You see, in a deluded man's world, there is no place for an old toy, or an ugly toy, or a toy that doesn't have the right figure, or whose body does not work the way it should--a handicapped toy, a toy that has fallen ill. If a toy was once a good toy, you might hang around--after all she was once a good toy. And you can feast on the memories, and keep an eye on other good toys from the sidelines or glance at the bad toys in the magazines--but a 'smart' man does not let himself get stuck with a broken toy, particularly one that has been used and is in need of repair."
Ladies, you are nobody's toy, whether "good" or "bad". Don't even let them call you that. Don't even admit to the demeaning title. It is not a bad thing to be wild and human beings are naturally "dangerous" but you are also meant to be strong and loyal. Innocence is not uncool. You do not have to be either a disney princess or a femme fatale (thanks to Colin Mason for that phrase). You do not have to be a weird blend of both either. Joan of Arc was NOT a safe, quiet, undemanding girl. She kept her honor and she is one of the wildest, craziest people in history. Her persecuters called her "witch" and "indecent". You do not have to be Debbie Reynolds crying under a piano, hiding from Gene Kelly in order to get married. You can be as bold as Elizabeth Taylor, grinding the heel of her stiletto into an assaulting rogues's expensive shoe. That is not wicked and never will be.
I hear the terms "good girl" and "bad girl" thrown about all the time, by men as well as women. When I ask women what they mean by that, they usually say something vague about a "good girl" being boring, or "too cutesy" or "too passive" or "too tame" or something to be diesired in a teen or twenty-something, but not in a thirty-something, tough, real, working girl of the twenty-first century. When they try to define "bad girl" they associate her with somebody simultaneously "cool" and "hot". "Volcanic", independent, wild, unpredictable, dangerous. They might add as a caveat that though the "bad" girl is better than the "good" girl, maybe the "bad girl" is too unsafe or unstable to be ALL the time.
Most of them feel a pressure to be a weird blend of both. Hence the schizophrenia in the way women are portrayed in photos in the media. Case in point, I saw a little book at Barnes and Noble's once that was entitled: The Good Girl's Guide To Bad Girl Sex. So, if I am understanding the modern woman's dilemma correctly, we are encouraged to post photos of ourselves presently ourselves as "solid, dependable, reliable, proffessional, emancipated" women in the workplace, in our professional lives, in our familys, we can bot cute, good "girls" when we do not want to scare men away. In other words, when we are trying to convince men that we are not "gold-diggers" or spendthirifts, that we won't cheat on them, then we adopt a "good girl" expression. But we feel pressure to compete with the playboy bunnies that they stare at while they masturbate (that we can't insist that our men get rid of or stop doing, because that's being demanding, which is not "good") so we buy outfits and strike a "bad" girl pose, so that our men will continue to see us as exciting and alluring. This combination is the worst alternative of all, not only because again, women are sacrificing what is good for them (as they are too wont to do) for the unrealistic demands imposed on them by society and the men in their lives. It is also because we are allowed less to be ourselves than ever before. People talk about the "Virgin vs. Whore" mentality of a previous era, how women were tidily compartmentalized and constrained and that how this narrow way of thinking no longer is here today and aren't we fortunate and smarter than our grandparents, yahah yadah yadah.
But it is not gone. If I had been born in the '40s or 50's, I would have hated it (I hope) that if I would be considered "marriage material", graced with the condescension of my husband's dirty socks, martini mixing priveleges, and the queen of his kitchen if only I wore the appropriate clothing, did not spend too much of his hard-earned money at the beauty parlor, had dinner ready when he got home, always had a warm, gentle smile, and pretended that I knew nothing about his infidelities. If I dared to wear something too provocative, dared to reward his infidelity with argument, accusation, sulkiness, or (gasp!) an indiscretion or two of my own, or (oh horror!) left him, then I would not be "marriage material". If I flirted too much, or wore too much black, or showed too much cleavage, or gave off a certain air of sultry, wild, abandon or danced with too much hip movement, the "good" little church-going boys would know that I was not "marriage material" but that it would be perfectly exceptable to go "parking" with me for the senior dance. It would be acceptable for the Boss to call me into his office and lock the door behind us, since I was not "marriage material" anyway. I would be an acceptable candidate for Dear Old George's cheating on his wife, but he would never, never marry me. Because years ago I had made an incorrect choice, and gotten into unfavored habits, and now there is no getting out of them, because now the men can all sense that I am "bad" and that is that. "You mus'nt give your heart to a wild thing!" Holly Golightly warns about herself.
But this age has not progressed us and it still has not eradicated that way of thinking. Men, especially nauseatingly "good" churchgoing boys still talk about "good" women as "marriage" material for them and "bad" girls being very "fuck-worthy" (their words, out of their own mouths, not mine!) but not "marriage material". they are good enough to look up on porntube and good enough to drool over in movies, or fool around with before you settle down, or after you have settled down if the little woman at home does not know (but she really should not complain, as he, after all, has graced her with the honorary title of "mother of his children". The "bad" girls, you wear a condom for, or give her money for an abortion, because God forbid you should sire a child with a "bad" girl.) We still think in that way, though many of us pretend that we do not. Before at least a woman was either one or the other, now she has to be both! We reward the Vanessa Hudgens of this world for dressing provacatively and making "bad girl" faces and "bad girl" poses in front of the camera, but we gasp and frown if she sends a nude picture of herself in an email. Most women want to be a combination of sweet, approachable, funny, cute Jenniffer Aniston "America's Sweetheart", AND Angelina the fierce, tough, wild-eyed, full-lipped, femme fatale-Jolie (because Brad Pitt chose Jen at first, then left her for Jolie). Or, for an older generation, Eddie Fisher might have married Debbie Reynolds (a perfect example of the "good" girl, with her starry, wide blue eyes, cute face, warm smile, blushing cheeks and cooing voice) but he left her for Elizabeth Taylor, (who later dumped him, good for her!). It is terrible hard work to be both Debbie Reynolds (think Tammy and the Bachelor, Singing in the Rain, Bundle of Joy) AND Elizabeth Taylor (think Butterfield 8, Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, Cleopatra). To me, growing up, I never thought of them in terms of whether or not some guy thought that they were "good" or "bad". Sure, my dad alway "respected" Debbie Reynolds, but he still gaped at Elizabeth Taylor. To me, though, they were simply...women. Complex, imperfect, wonderous, pathetic, mysterious and beautiful, always, always, beautiful. They were more than the false images carved out for them, as every woman is, whether famous or not. I have been both idealized and demonized enough to know that idolization and sexualization are two sides on the same coin of objectification.
Whether a man looks me in the eyes and tells me that he wants to marry me, because I am "so good, so pure, the most perfect and unusually immaculate woman he has ever met, the most pristine in the world, blah blah blah" or stares at my breasts and says that he wants to "fuck" me because I am the "curviest, sexiest, wildest, little thang" in the club, neither of those poor fools will ever see the real me, because they have been trained like dogs to look for cues of whether each woman is a good bit of territory to bury a bone, or to piss and shit on, because some other dog has been there and had the same idea. They both think they are reading the cues correctly and picking up the right vibe, and they are both wrong. Which really breaks my heart, because men are NOT dogs. They are awe-inspiring, complex and beautiful too, and they are being cheated by the media and society that trains them to act like dogs, just as much, if not more so, than we are. And no woman EVER deserves to have her heart broken, or to be treated as though she were worthless, no matter how many men she has slept with, no matter how many inches from her collar-bone her neckline is, or how tight her jeans are, or how short her hemline. My message is not just for Christians, but it has more meaning for Christians who know that Christ said "Love your neighbor as yourself" and "if your neighbor strikes you on your right cheek, turn the other" and "Do unto others as you would have them do to you" and "You wicked servant, I FORGAVE YOU the ENTIRE DEBT! Should you not have shown mercy to your fellow?" I have read the whole bible many times and I do not recall a single passage where Christ says, "If a woman acts like a lady, treat her like a lady, but if she's a bitch, or a whore or an idiot call her a bitch, whore or idiot to her face and treat her like one" or "Women who do and say exactly what you want them to do or say all of the time are worth your time and trouble. Women who don't act the way you want them to are worthless." or "If people are sinners, the best thing to do is to never let them near anybody and to tell everybody to stay away from them. That way, they all know who is bad and who is good and the good ones can stay good, and the bad ones...can stay...bad?"
Don't misunderstand me, I am not saying that you have to be like Hosea and marry a prostitute. All I am saying is that God told Hosea to do that and chose that symbol of that poor woman to represent Us...all of us...not just the ones who have lost their virginity, no just the ones who dress improperly, not just the ones on the cover of your porn magazine, not just the one you saw at the Gentleman's club last night...He meant YOU. There is ESSENTIALLY no difference between that girl you stare at on porntube and your sister that you won't let any of your buddies date.
Regina Doman, paraphrasing Von Hildebrand wrote a brilliant little bit that expresses everything I mean, better than I can. It is from her novel, The Midnight Dancers.
"Once upon a time there were men and women in the world."
"Just as there are now." ...
"And there was a devil, as there also is now, and he desired to destroy the happiness of man and woman. So he created a twisted looking glass. The looking-glass was not a mirror, but a piece of glass so invisible that a man could look through it and not realize that he was seeing a twisted reality. And it reflected a bit, like a mirror, so a man could see himself, or what he thought was himself. ... Now, this glass was made particularly for men, and the devil made sure that the men looked through it whenever they chanced to look at women. And this glass changed the women. ... It reduced them. ...
So that, to a man looking through the glass, the woman appeared to be an object, a pretty plaything for his pleasure. Now, the man might know that the woman had brains or talents, or any number of other gifts, but when he looked through the mirror, he saw her only as a toy. And the devil made every effort to push that glass before a man's eyes when he was young as possible. So that most men were so used to looking through the glass that, even when it wasn't there, the images in the glass dictated their reality. ... There was a further trick to the devil's glass. The glass taught men to sort all women into two types--worthwhile, and not worthwhile. Or 'good' and 'bad' as some took to calling them. Good toys and bad toys. And so this was the way they had of speaking about women among themselves. And, as you can imagine, the women could'nt help overhearing these conversations. And even though most of the women had not glanced through the mirror, they could'nt help thinking of themselves in this manner. As toys. Good toys or bad toys."
"What was the difference between the good toys and the bad toys?" Rachael said, scraping at the rock with her fingernail.
"Nothing," Paul said.
"What do you mean, nothing?"
"Nothing essential. Once you have decided to see a person as a toy, the degrees between the toys are close to non-existent. But for practical purposes as far as the deluded man was concerned, there was a difference."
"Which was?" ...
"Time," Paul said slowly, "Only time. You spend more time with a good toy. Lots of time. You date her, you take her out, you pay her compliments, you might even marry her. But in the end, she's just a toy."
"And the bad toys?"
His face had a rigid, hard look to it. "You don't waste your time. You play with them, but not for long. Maybe not even twenty-four hours. And then you don't care if you ever see her again. Remember," he said, "From this twisted point of view, a smart man does not waste his time on bad toys."
"But what about Christian men?" she objected.
"Christian men were taught to look through this mirror too. Sometimes, the attached more importance to the "good" versus "bad" distinction. You have to make sure you marry a "good" toy. Because a Christian man does not waste his time on "bad' toys. You want a good toy. Just one. Or at any rate, one at a time."
... "But it's not fair!"
"Of course it's not!"
"I don't believe all men are like this!"
"They're not. But don't underestimate the power of the looking glass. ...You see, in a deluded man's world, there is no place for an old toy, or an ugly toy, or a toy that doesn't have the right figure, or whose body does not work the way it should--a handicapped toy, a toy that has fallen ill. If a toy was once a good toy, you might hang around--after all she was once a good toy. And you can feast on the memories, and keep an eye on other good toys from the sidelines or glance at the bad toys in the magazines--but a 'smart' man does not let himself get stuck with a broken toy, particularly one that has been used and is in need of repair."
Ladies, you are nobody's toy, whether "good" or "bad". Don't even let them call you that. Don't even admit to the demeaning title. It is not a bad thing to be wild and human beings are naturally "dangerous" but you are also meant to be strong and loyal. Innocence is not uncool. You do not have to be either a disney princess or a femme fatale (thanks to Colin Mason for that phrase). You do not have to be a weird blend of both either. Joan of Arc was NOT a safe, quiet, undemanding girl. She kept her honor and she is one of the wildest, craziest people in history. Her persecuters called her "witch" and "indecent". You do not have to be Debbie Reynolds crying under a piano, hiding from Gene Kelly in order to get married. You can be as bold as Elizabeth Taylor, grinding the heel of her stiletto into an assaulting rogues's expensive shoe. That is not wicked and never will be.
Sunday, January 1, 2012
My New Year's Reflection and Resolution
Reflecting upon my short life thus far, I imagined what I would have to say about it, were it to end today (I know, I know. Typical "Melancholic Maria" moment). This is my attempt to express what I have concluded.
Almost nothing good has come easily, except the most wonderful and mysterious gifts. Every inch of the way has been a struggle, and the extent of progression is not prodigious. But examining myself and my life with my most critical eye, I can honestly say that I never slacked off, and I always tried my hardest to do the right thing in every circumstance. I have never chosen something I believed was a neccessary evil. I have never admitted that there was any such thing as a neccessary evil. I have never compromised my principles. I have always been truthful to others and especially tried to be so toward myself. I have never hated anybody in my life and have never intended harm upon anyone. As for the gifts given me, I can unequivocally say that I did nothing to deserve them, especially my friends and my sisters and brothers. As for the enemies I have made, I can honestly look into my conscience and their wrath and maltreatment and say that I have done nothing to merit that in them either.
I have discerned that although the list of things that I want to change about myself or improve in myself seems to lengthen each year, although I don't believe I will ever feel quite at home in this life and this world, or will ever understand why I was placed here by God, or even concieved of, in His Mind, for that matter, I can go on living with the mystery. I can forgive myself for having lived this life, because it is not really a small life, although it looks that way, to skeptics. I have decided to stop being a skeptic.
I also admit that in my life, I have been unforgiving, hardhearted and acted solely out of anger to one person only, and that person was myself. While in previous years, I was tempted to consider this of little importance, (because it was only myself, after all, who was hurting) I have decided now that that was at the root of every mistake I have ever made and that if left unchecked it could subvert everything good that I wanted toward everything that I love and every goal for which I have worked. Ironically, I seem to be the only person in the world that I would not hug if he needed it. Osama Bin Laden, Larry Flynt, Hugh Hefner, Nancy Pelosi, Josef Stalin, Margaret Sanger, Vlad the Terrible, Genghis Khan, anyone else, just not me. It seems that in my own past esteem I am only person whose suffering merited indifference. I have now decided that this is not true, that no human being should be hated, not even myself.
So while my list of things I could resolve upon this year are seemingly endless (Get a better job, make more money, be able to afford a doctor and dentist visit, smile more, get more books, make more friends, slim down, get more organized, be more tenacious about what you want, grow in wisdom, sing in church again, pray with more order and consistency and fervor, get married, have kids, get a new hair-do, learn to sew, learn how to cook chicken cordon-bleu...) I have decided that the most important resolution of all, is the one that is the most difficult for me: to hope.
Because my hope has always been hampered by my inability to accept what I do not understand, my inability to forgive myself for my failings, and my lack of emotional conviction that God loves me or truly has a part for me in His plan that is important. Yet, this is precisely the most important thing to believe. It is the grace granted us in absolution in the sacrament of penance, in the mystical union with Christ in the Eucharist, in the miraculous gift of life itself. Hope is not a virtue that come naturally for me (or for anyone for that matter). That is why it is called a theological, an infused, supernatural virtue.
So, this new resolution comes with the truth that this gift, this very resolution, must be prayed for, and accepted as yet another gift from God. The gift of hope in His goodness and His mery and His love, is my central and principle desire for myself this year. As with all other self-imposed commandments that mark each new year with every person, though one tends to think of it as something that one must hold oneself to by sheer will-power, we secretly know that what we call "resolutions" are actually prayers, for ourselves, to the God that gave us that will and that mind with which to say, "This year, I resolve..."
Almost nothing good has come easily, except the most wonderful and mysterious gifts. Every inch of the way has been a struggle, and the extent of progression is not prodigious. But examining myself and my life with my most critical eye, I can honestly say that I never slacked off, and I always tried my hardest to do the right thing in every circumstance. I have never chosen something I believed was a neccessary evil. I have never admitted that there was any such thing as a neccessary evil. I have never compromised my principles. I have always been truthful to others and especially tried to be so toward myself. I have never hated anybody in my life and have never intended harm upon anyone. As for the gifts given me, I can unequivocally say that I did nothing to deserve them, especially my friends and my sisters and brothers. As for the enemies I have made, I can honestly look into my conscience and their wrath and maltreatment and say that I have done nothing to merit that in them either.
I have discerned that although the list of things that I want to change about myself or improve in myself seems to lengthen each year, although I don't believe I will ever feel quite at home in this life and this world, or will ever understand why I was placed here by God, or even concieved of, in His Mind, for that matter, I can go on living with the mystery. I can forgive myself for having lived this life, because it is not really a small life, although it looks that way, to skeptics. I have decided to stop being a skeptic.
I also admit that in my life, I have been unforgiving, hardhearted and acted solely out of anger to one person only, and that person was myself. While in previous years, I was tempted to consider this of little importance, (because it was only myself, after all, who was hurting) I have decided now that that was at the root of every mistake I have ever made and that if left unchecked it could subvert everything good that I wanted toward everything that I love and every goal for which I have worked. Ironically, I seem to be the only person in the world that I would not hug if he needed it. Osama Bin Laden, Larry Flynt, Hugh Hefner, Nancy Pelosi, Josef Stalin, Margaret Sanger, Vlad the Terrible, Genghis Khan, anyone else, just not me. It seems that in my own past esteem I am only person whose suffering merited indifference. I have now decided that this is not true, that no human being should be hated, not even myself.
So while my list of things I could resolve upon this year are seemingly endless (Get a better job, make more money, be able to afford a doctor and dentist visit, smile more, get more books, make more friends, slim down, get more organized, be more tenacious about what you want, grow in wisdom, sing in church again, pray with more order and consistency and fervor, get married, have kids, get a new hair-do, learn to sew, learn how to cook chicken cordon-bleu...) I have decided that the most important resolution of all, is the one that is the most difficult for me: to hope.
Because my hope has always been hampered by my inability to accept what I do not understand, my inability to forgive myself for my failings, and my lack of emotional conviction that God loves me or truly has a part for me in His plan that is important. Yet, this is precisely the most important thing to believe. It is the grace granted us in absolution in the sacrament of penance, in the mystical union with Christ in the Eucharist, in the miraculous gift of life itself. Hope is not a virtue that come naturally for me (or for anyone for that matter). That is why it is called a theological, an infused, supernatural virtue.
So, this new resolution comes with the truth that this gift, this very resolution, must be prayed for, and accepted as yet another gift from God. The gift of hope in His goodness and His mery and His love, is my central and principle desire for myself this year. As with all other self-imposed commandments that mark each new year with every person, though one tends to think of it as something that one must hold oneself to by sheer will-power, we secretly know that what we call "resolutions" are actually prayers, for ourselves, to the God that gave us that will and that mind with which to say, "This year, I resolve..."
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