Big Sister Blues

This weekend, my dad and stepmom took a vacation out to Arizona.  Dad had to problem leaving my siblings alone for the weekend, mom disagreed, so here I am.  I wasn't sure what to expect.  I haven't spent significantly long periods of time with them since they were young enough for me to put them in a corner for time out.  Apart from the occasional vacation together, my time with them since they were young usually averaged around 3 days.  So these kids, now young adults, were slightly foreign to me, despite shared genetics.  I was entering into uncharted territory.

Here's some background information.  I'm ten years older than the eldest of the three.  Mark Jr is 16, and the twins, Anna and Michael, are 15.  I've always felt a disconnect, but seeing as how I'm a decade older than them, it isn't a mystery.  Plus that whole not-living-with-them thing too.

My brother Michael was already home from school when I arrived.  And by arrived, I mean punched random numbers into the garage key pad until it opened.  I knew the range, I just had to fudge about for a bit to get it since my key didn't fit the front door.  Probably the wrong key...  My sister Anna arrived next and bolted to hug me when she came through the door, forgetting that I was going to be here this weekend.  We immediately sat down and started talking.  I got to know her fears and dreams for the future.  We covered so many topics in such a short time.  Stuff that is incredibly difficult things to talk about but also knowledge about oneself that I'm not sure I was close to understanding at that age.  Later after Mark arrived home, Anna and I helped him work on his short story he had to write for school.  We offered suggestions, which he considered and reworked in some instances.  I eventually retired upstairs to watch the newest season of House of Cards and eventually went to sleep.

Saturday morning I was up bright eyed and bushy tailed, or more rather, tired eyed and coffee fueled.  Mark had a dermatology appointment which we arrived early for, sat, and waited 4 times longer than the actual appointment. Cause, you know, doctor's offices are like that.  Back home I indulged in a bubble bath for a while.  Post bath, all four of us sat and played Cards Against Humanity for over two hours.  I got to know their personalities.  What they find funny, which is sick and sarcastic and so totally the same as mine.  Leading me to be pretty certain that we get this from our father.  Thanks, dad.

Me and my sister Anna

We evaluated where we wanted to go for dinner and separated.  While the boys were playing video games, I asked my sister if I could do her make-up.  It's been ages since anyone has done my make-up for fun or played with my hair.  I couldn't resist.  I offered her tips (eye shadow can easily be used as eye liner) and talked about music (she liked almost everything from my mellow playlist.)  When we rallied for dinner, our first choice had an hour wait to be seated.  So we headed up the road to what happens to be one of my favorite places in the world, LA Cafe & Java.  It's the place I first had and enjoyed coffee.  I always get the blue corn chip nachos with mozzarella, mushrooms, onions, and broccoli (YUM.)  While waiting we started playing the movie game (I won,) followed by a word spelling game (I won again,) and we were still playing Would You Rather as we left the restaurant.

When we got home, we all sat down to watch the horror movie Would You Rather as I had mentioned it previously.  After that, we watched Unfriended, another horror flick I suggested.  Once the second horror film was done, we realized we needed some laughs so we watched funny videos for at least another hour.  Once we all retired, I helped Anna take off her make-up and gave her skin care suggestions.  Acne is a bitch.  She said, "Good night, I love you." Which I of course reciprocated.

And then I realized that it made me really sad.  I'm sad that I missed them growing up.  That I missed watching them turn into these amazing people and personalities.  I was always the big sister, but I wasn't around.  I wasn't the presence that their friends got to know when they came over to the house.  I didn't stay up late with them, giving them boy advice or tell them what high school is like.  I wasn't even there enough to be the big sister who was so "over it" and wants them to "get a life."

I know why my situation was the way it was.  And I will always be grateful to not have to endure divorce.  My parents were always amicable and supportive of each other.  They never fought in front of me, though I'm sure over 26 (almost 27) years they disagreed on things.  My dad still checked on my mom when we were in the hospital, even though I was on another floor and my stepmom went into labor on another.  I'm lucky given the situation of my surprise appearance, that neither parents bailed, especially dad.

But I missed out on the sister thing.  I'm only getting the chance now to be and experience what I always wanted.  And I know I could have done something before now.  But such is life.  I'm so happy to have this chance to get to know them.  I only wish it had been sooner.

Hey Subconscious, What's Your Issue?

Last night, I had a dream about my exes.  I only have two of them, but both relationships were milestones in my sexual and romantic life.

Neither ended particularly well.

The first was exacerbated by an emotionally abusive situation outside of my relationship. He was my first love and it was a big step for me to be involved emotionally and sexually after my assault.  We met online and clicked immediately.  After a brief period of friendship, we both realized we wanted more.  I told him about my fears, about what had happened to me, and how I was scared of opening up sexually with someone.  He was amazing. The problem was when it ended, I lost his friendship as well my first love.  I moved back home shortly after to deal with the rest of the problems and had to completely severe ties in order to get over him.

After I moved back, I went out a couple times with my second ex but I wasn't ready for a relationship. And I wasn't sure how I felt about him. But we got to know each other as friends and I worked on healing from the first break up.  Eventually I realized there were feelings there, and I made a move.  It was a huge step for me to open up more sexually. And with him, it felt right.  But it ended, badly, and I'm still working on getting over it.

Last night in the dream, I was at a party and they were both there. I was talking to my first ex for a quite a while, and then my second ex said he was leaving. I went to walk him out, and he confronted me over my happiness, to which I burst into tears and he held me. And that's when I woke up.  I really don't know how to take this. I keep waffling between being ready to move on and wanting to curl into a ball and cry forever.

Why is getting over someone so damn painful?  It doesn't help that my life is a giant question mark of suck lately.  I'm not going back to school, which I've reconciled myself with just fine.  But job searching is exhausting. I want to work on writing and finishing my novel so I can publish.  I've got a freelance job but it hasn't paid out yet and is hit and miss anyway. I'm helping a friend with stuff which she is paying me for doing.  I'm even trying to sell my art on Etsy. But this is still not enough.  I'm lucky I have savings. But I can easily eat through it without any supplemental income.

I'm trying so hard to stay positive. But it is utterly and completely exhausting to try and fix and be happy with everything in my life.  I don't want to get back with either of my exes.  But I miss having someone I can talk to about everything.  Someone who would hold me when I needed to feel safe or was crying.  I know I have amazing friends who are here for me, but it isn't the same.  I just feel so broken and don't know how to put the pieces back together.

Our Shared Shelf: February

The amazing feminist book club, Our Shared Shelf, continues into February with a classic.  The Color Purple by Alice Walker was a book I'd heard of often but never read and could barely discuss due to the not having read it.

The story follows two black sisters living in the South.  The story unfolds as Celie writes letters to God, another form of journaling. Eventually they become letters to her sister Nettie, who then writes letters in return.  Years pass between the sisters and their contact.  It's a heartwarming tale of the power of love, family, and finding yourself.  I can easily see why this is a classic and how Walker is heralded for her writing.




Some of my favorite quotes:

"I don't even look at mens. That's the truth. I look at women, tho, cause I'm not scared of them."
-Pg 15

"A girl child ain't safe in a family of men. [...] I loves Harpo, she say. God knows I do. But I'll kill him dead before I let him beat me." -Pg 46

"I twirl the spit around my finger. I think bout ground glass, wonder how you grind it. But I don't feel mad at all. Just interest." -Pg 58

"Angels all in white, white hair and white eyes, look like albinos. God all white too, looking like some stout white man work at the bank." -Pg 91

"Have you ever seen a white person and a colored sitting side by side in a car, when one of 'em wasn't showing the other one how to drive it or clean it? I got out the car, opened the back door and clammed in. She sat down up front." -Pg 101*

"She just like me, Mama say. She drink, she fight, she love mens to death. She work in a roadhouse. Cook. Feed fifty men, screw fifty-five." -Pg 116

"The little I knew about my own self wouldn't have filled a thimble!" -Pg 123

"Do not be offended, Sister Nettie, but our people pity women such as you who are cast out, we know not from where, into a world unknown to you, where you must struggle all alone, for yourself.  So I am an object of pity and contempt, I thought, to men and women alike." -Pg 149

"She say, Celie, tell the truth, have you ever found God in church? I never did. I just found a bunch of folks hoping for him to show. Any God I ever felt in church I brought with me. And I think all the other folks did too. They come to church to share God, not find God." -Pg 176

"Man corrupt everything, say Shug. He on your box of grits, in your head, and all over the radio. He try to make you think he everywhere. Soon as you think he everywhere, you think he God. But he ain't. Whenever you trying to pray, and man plop himself on the other end of it, tell him to git lost, say Shug. Conjure up flowers, wind, water, a big rock." -Pg 179

"Why any woman give a shit what people think is a mystery to me." -Pg 182

"Well, I say, if words could kill, I'd be in the ambulance." -Pg 219

"Some colored people so scared of whitefolks they claim to love the cotton gin." -Pg 233


*I wanted to come back to this because it amused me. Sofia, a black woman, is teaching her mistress how to drive and her mistress offers to drive her to go see her children.  But the mistress tells her they can't sit in front together, so Sofia has to sit in back. Which is hysterical because traditionally those in service of others would be driving or up front while the more distinguished individual sat in back. Here is a clear reversal of that role, and something I would suspect Walker did on purpose.

Next month: TBD

Our Shared Shelf: January

Much to my delight one of my favorite actors and people living on this planet, Emma Watson, decided to create a feminist book club for this year.  My title suggestion of A Feminist's Reading Agenda was not picked, sadly.  But Our Shared Shelf seems like an acceptable choice.  The first month's pick was My Life on the Road by Gloria Steinem.

The book chronicles Gloria's life of travel.  First, she is stuck in the car with her family driven around the country by her father.  His appetite for life on the road dictated the family and their situation.  This childhood will lead Gloria to desire the feeling of home, but live her life traveling anyway.  She shares her stories from many different perspectives.


Here are some of my favorite quotes:

"What seems to be one thing from a distance is very different close up." -Prelude

"I worshipped dead men for their strength, forgetting I was strong." -Pg 39

"[...] but younger and more radical women didn't want just a job and a piece of the existing pie.  They wanted to bake a new pie altogether." -Pg 48

"Altogether, if I had to pick one place to hang out anywhere, from New York to Cape Town and Australia to Hong Kong, a bookstore would be it." -Pg 52

"Because adventure starts the moment I leave my door." -Pg 70

"Girls need to know they can break the rules." -Pg 79

"'Filters let in a cup of water,' he says, 'but keep out the ocean.'" -Pg 82

"'We have long known that rape has been a way of terrorizing us and keeping us in subjection.  Now we also know that we have participated, although unwittingly, in the rape of our minds.'" -Pg 98

"Roots can exist without flowers, but no flower can exist without roots." -Pg 117

"'Always look at what people do,' as my mother said, 'not at who they are.'" -Pg 127

"This was my first hint of the truism that depression is anger turned inward; thus women are twice as likely to be depressed." -Pg 129

"When the past dies, we mourn for the dead.  When the future dies, we mourn for ourselves." -Pg 138

"'The purpose of ass-kicking is not that your ass gets kicked at the right time or for the right reason,' she often explained. 'It's to keep your ass sensitive.'" -Pg 170

"Polls show that what women fear most from men is violence, and what men fear most from women is ridicule." -Pg 180

"Laughter is an orgasm of the mind." -Pg 181

"The simple right to reproductive freedom--to sexuality as an expression that is separable from reproduction--is basic to restoring women's power, the balance between women and men, and a balance between humans and nature." -Pg 204

"'I'll see you on the other side of the mountain.'" -Pg 244


My favorite chapter was by far Gloria's experiences with cab drivers.  There is so much to learn from those that drive people everywhere and are often the driving equivalent of priests or bartenders.  These are the people that overhear some deepest, darkest secrets just by sitting in the front seat and driving around.

Recently, Gloria made some comments that disturbed me.  Reading this book at the time of my life that I'm at was very powerful.  This book made me feel stronger and made me very enamored with her life story.  But then she had to go make an asinine comment about women who support Bernie Sanders. Saying that young women who support him are only doing so to catch a guy because the young men are following him is not only sexist but minimizing.  I follow Bernie Sanders because he sticks to what he believes, he isn't controlled by corporation donations, and he actually seems like a genuine person.  Her half-hearted apology was more of an excuse than an actual apology.  I understand from her writing that she is in Hillary's camp, and that's fine.  But please don't minimize women who support someone else.


Next Month: The Color Purple by Alice Walker

That Utter Feeling of Failure...Whoooo

I can't say that 2016 has had a great start so far.  The new year has found me recently single, jobless, and my dream of getting my PhD and being a professor was crushed. Or rather, put on hold for the foreseeable future.  On top of that suck salad is the sucky dressing of mental illness.  So it is safe to say that I've been having a shitty year, and it's only February.

I'm not one to handle that inadequate feeling well.  Having depression, anxiety, and PTSD already breeds self animosity.  Extra additions of feeling not good enough just add fuel to the fire.  Oh boy, watch that blaze burn!

I've struggled with self esteem issues since I was young.  As a youth, dealing with depression and not even knowing what it was, I struggled in my friendships.  I had people around me that cared, but I felt that I really only had one friend.  My mom and I were in a serious car accident the summer of 2001.  It was a horrible ordeal and one of the worst parts was my metabolism changed.  Instead of being the stick figure kid I had always been, it became incredibly difficult to lose weight and incredibly easy to put weight on.  Every since then, I have been the funny, fat friend.  So self esteem slaughter all over the place.

This continued through high school and college and post college and grad school and post grad school. Ok, you get the point.  It's a complex that has followed me my entire life.  Which didn't exactly make dating easy.  I used to be really outgoing.  I had no problem telling a guy that I thought he was cute.  But after you get told what a great friend you are and how much personality you have, you stop sharing your feelings.  I didn't have my first kiss until I was 18.  I was sexually assaulted at 21, which made my self esteem plummet.  I didn't have a serious relationship until I was 24. And I didn't lose my virginity until I was 26.  When you have a person rob you of your safety and sexuality, it's hard to open up that way to other people again.

So feelings of inadequacy are deeply instilled in my personality.  This gets brought up easily with the end of a relationship. And every time you get a job rejection email.  And when you don't get accepted to fulfill your dream of going for your PhD.  So it's safe to say my self esteem started at an all time low this year.  But, I'm not giving up.  I may not be following the path I always expected.  But I'm making the path my own.

I've worked so hard on my art and selling it on Etsy.  I've gotten a freelance writing gig for a firm in LA doing book to film pitches.  I'm working harder than ever on my novel, so I can look for book agents soon.  Being unemployed has allowed me train new volunteers which I have wanted to do for a year and a half and couldn't because of my schedule.  I've been able to train to be a medical advocate again and now I'm able to do short term counseling for survivors.

My life isn't all together.  I can't even come close to admitting it is.  But I'm trying. I'm doing everything I can to make it.  Because giving up isn't an option. Some of my dreams may not be coming true right now, but that isn't stopping me from making other ones happen.

New Year, Newish Me, Same Old Judgment

I'm not usually one for resolutions except in the most recent years.  While I hate to create a standard for myself that could be devastating when I fail, I also like challenging myself.  Which to me is the whole point of a resolution.  Sure I might fail, anyone might fail.  But it is about the fact that I'm trying.  I want to try.  I've failed in the past.  I might fail now.  But I'm trying.

So here's why I am pissed as all hell.  I've been unsatisfied by my physical appearance for a while.  I love my body and who am I in it, but I also know I'm not as healthy as I could be.  I need to lose weight and tone up, back to what I used to be.  I tried for a while to do it at home but I realized I couldn't do it.  I need support around me.  I was at my healthiest when I was working out with my roommates in college.  Being alone doesn't work for me.  So I decided to join a gym.  Cliche, I know.  But when working out at home doesn't do it, you go somewhere that it does.

Dear people who are already gym members and bitch about waiting for machines or having a packed gym, please shut the fuck up.  Choosing to better myself and join a gym was difficult in the first place.  Do you have any idea the affect you have on a person's self esteem when you complain about how deserving you are of the gym and others aren't?  My self esteem is already weak and I struggle with it.  I understand the frustration of a sudden influx of people in your usual environment, but everyone is just as deserving of improving themselves as you are.

All I ask is to please take in mind what each person might be thinking or feeling about being at the gym.  They might hate themselves.  They could be trying to lose weight to stave off diabetes.  Maybe they lost a family member to a heart attack and are scared of facing the same fate.  Maybe they are even jealous of how you look and wish they could look the same.  Everyone struggles and everyone can take efforts to fix themselves.  Please stop judging those that do.

So You've Been Sexually Assaulted, What Now?

I've been open about the fact that I was sexually assaulted.  What I haven't been open about is the aftermath.

*Trigger Warning* This post may be upsetting for some readers. Hell, it may even be upsetting for me and I'm writing the damn thing.  If you are at all upset by sexual assault or PTSD, please take care of yourself and refrain from reading.

I was sexually assaulted at 21 years old while visiting my cousin at Samford University. My assaulter took advantage of my intoxication at a fraternity party and lead me back to his dorm room where he violated me.  While sexual assault is messed up enough, it's sick and twisted that I consider myself lucky I wasn't raped.  When I came out of it enough to realize what was happening, I got myself out of the situation and demanded he walk me back.  The rest of the night is in and out since I had consumed a lot of alcohol.  But when I woke up the next morning, I knew that I wasn't okay.

I immediately started calling people, trying to find support and make sense of what was happening to me.  I didn't go to the police, because I know rape is difficult enough to prosecute.  A lesser sexual assault would be insane.  On top of being intoxicated and evidence, this would never make it to trial.  For a while after, I pretended it didn't happen.  I didn't want to consider that a woman who had taken self defense classes and helped teach it was capable of being victimized sexually.  So at that point, it didn't happen.  It never happened.  But obviously, as anyone even the tiniest bit versed in psychology or victimology knows, this frame of mind can't last forever.

Eventually, I was prepared to start working through it.  What I wasn't prepared for was the PTSD.  One night, after having a decent amount of alcohol, I started having a flashback.  Suddenly, his face was in my head, the darkness of the room flashed before me, and it was as if I was experiencing the worst moment of my life all over again.  I couldn't stop crying. I curled into a ball and sobbed and couldn't move.  While I had not had suicidal thoughts in years, I wanted to blow my brains out just to get the images out of my head.

After time, I was able to move forward.  The flashbacks became less and less, and I especially avoided alcohol.  I knew that being tipsy would be even more of a trigger because of my intoxication that night.  Time would help heal me, and I would go years without a flashback.  Until recently.  It drives me beyond crazy that this asshole, this piece of shit, still affects me.  That he is inside my head.  I hate it.  I know I've made so many strides and so much progress, but the fact that he is inside my head kills me.  For a while after the assault, hearing his first name would make me flinch.  It took liking a celebrity with the same first name to get over that.

Apart from PTSD, there was another part of the aftermath I wasn't prepared to have.  While I was a virgin when the assault happened, I wasn't a prude.  But after the assault, I felt disgusting.  I wanted nothing to do with my sexuality.  It took me ages before I felt okay to date again and even longer before I was comfortable doing anything sexually.  It would still be years until I actually lost my virginity.  And it wasn't until I was completely comfortable and at ease.

It isn't easy.  I may have dedicated myself to making things better for survivors and trying to help people from becoming victimized.  I may have moved on and experienced healthy sexual relationships.  I may have progressed to having barely any flashbacks.  But this part of my life will always be with me.  It will never go away.  But I will do all I can to minimize the impact this has on my life.

For others, if you know someone who has been victimized, be supportive.  Don't blame them for something that wasn't their fault.  Listen, hold them, let them cry.  Let them work through what has happened.  Be helpful.  Be kind.