Being A Feminist In A Relationship

The other day on Pinterest (because I'm a woman in my late twenties) I saw a quote that said "You're the type of guy I'd make a sandwich for." As a born feminist, it spoke to me. The boyfriend and I were discussing a very religious wedding he'd recently worked, where the priest told the bride that she needed to submit to her husband, and joked to the groom that a happy wife means a happy life. We both thought that was a ridiculous thing to say to two people about to commit their lives together: why not just politely advise the couple to do what they can to make each other happy?

I've been a feminist since before I knew what that word meant, but there are some stereotypically feminine things I really enjoy doing. I love cooking, cooking for others, I care about animals more than most people and love taking care of animals (and plants, though I have greater successes with animals), I enjoy being in an educational position, I'm a neat freak and am constantly cleaning or tidying up. And recently, I've developed an interest in home decorating (rather, discovered that I have a style). While there was a time in my life I thought my future held children and motherhood, I still never wanted to be a stay-at-home-mom, never wanted to be wholly financially dependent on my husband, never desired the traditional housewife role. As I grew up and realized it was never my dream to have children, just me mentally fulfilling the expectation that came along with my gender and dating guys who also made those assumptions, I inched closer towards being a modern feminist.

But I still want to get married, weird as that may sound. I still want to give up my name, have a wedding, be ridiculously in love, and adopt all the pets. I want to make one man feel like the luckiest man alive, and I'll want to make him a sandwich, if only because it would make him happy in that moment*. I would do that because making my spouse happy would be incredibly important to me, just as making me happy would be incredibly important to him. 

This idea - of mutual happiness - at first seemed out of line with traditional feminism; some women refuse to cook, or never bother learning how to be good at it, because it's "anti-feminist." These women might have children but only because they physically have to be the ones to do so  if they want them (we still haven't advanced that far in modern medicine) but will refuse to do anything but the most basic of childcare duties, throwing themselves into their jobs instead. But doing something for the sake of doing it is as bad as not doing something for the sake of not doing it.

In addition to being a feminist, I've also been a cynic pretty much since puberty and my adult years have only solidified those views. After watching marriages fall apart, see couples stay together for the wrong reasons, and see people be so sure they'll end up happily ever after only to see their relationships crumble (always painfully), my cynicism grew. I consoled women who saw their relationships completely fail when they were so sure they wouldn't. I thought maybe I'd marry my high school boyfriend only because he was so sure we were soul mates. I thought I'd probably end up marrying The Ex only because we'd been together so long. It was only after those relationships ended that I realized how wrong I'd been. But I was never so sure. I was never even sure. The very idea of being sure, much less so sure, is terrifying.

I started to realize I didn't really want kids when I was in college. I grew up the oldest of three in a home daycare house. There were always kids around. Always. And I helped. When I came home from school I popped a bag of popcorn and sat at the kitchen table to start my homework, and our regular daycare kid would come and sit with me and share my popcorn. Because I grew up with kids literally always around I knew what to do with them at a very young age. By the time I got old enough to start thinking about my own future I knew what work kids were, and knew that I wasn't very eager to get on that. The people I admired were childless: my uncle, who married in his 50s, never had kids and was able to spoil my sisters and I. The Director of HR at my first post-college job married in her late 30s, got herself snipped, and was able to buy lovely clothes, a sporty car and spend the night in a hotel with her husband, just because. Once I realized I could easily not worry about money, have leisure time, experience a marriage and spoil my nieces and nephews I was hooked.

This idea of modern feminism is sort of a blend of traditional female roles and the super feminist ideals. While we may not want children, we still want to experience the love and acceptance that comes with being married. We watched our parents do all the wrong things with us and each other, make the wrong kind of sacrifices, and we've learned. We'll get married for the right reasons, and if we have kids we'll remember why, and we'll teach them how to be good people. I think we'll see stronger families and relationships because of this.

*Should that man not eat sandwiches very often I would happily make him something else. Preferably something I also want to eat, so we can eat it together.

Why I Can Never Be Republican

I don't affiliate myself with any of the political parties and every time I've taken a political party test I've ended up very near the middle. I agree with some Democrat issues and some Republican issues (and green party and libertarian) and have never felt comfortable siding with one side or the other.

My leaning.

That being said, I can never call myself Republican.

There are too many causes I support that get no support from major Republicans. Women's issues, climate change, the environment, gay rights, and energy are all things that I feel very passionate about and major Republicans don't agree with, don't believe in, don't support and won't pursue. In fact, some of these causes are openly mocked, called wrong or called unimportant.

Republicans think women's issues are silly girl complaints. We already work, we already vote, we already drive, we already hold major positions at major companies... what more do we want? Wanting better access to birth control just makes us sluts and wanting to keep abortion legal makes us all future murderers. If we're raped it's because we dressed provocatively, had been drinking, had flirted, had been out late at night, had not fought off hard enough, had basically asked for it, and if it was traumatic enough we won't get pregnant (or, if we get pregnant it was because we secretly enjoyed it and wanted a baby). Even though 95% of Americans have sex before they're married (if they get married at all), half the country believes sex should only be for procreating in between married couples, which means almost half the country are hypocrites.

Republicans don't believe climate change is real. The ones that do admit the science and data behind climate change is legitimate deny that we have anything to do with it. All those coal plants in the 40s that we shut down and cleaned up? If that were to happen today Republicans would lament all those coal jobs and ignore the improvements to the environment and human health. In fact, it kind of is happening today: Republicans are working hard to save the coal industry, claiming those few thousand jobs are critical to the health of the economy, while completely ignoring that people who work with coal all end up very sick, often with cancer. But those jobs, man, those jobs are all they got. (Which is true... people in coal mines don't know how to do anything else...)

Republicans think the environment is something we should care about only when times are good and we have the time and resources to devise ways of living that do not involve destroying the only place we can live. Since the planet will live far longer than any generation conceivable now, they kind of have a point. We will all die long before the planet starts to really hurt. So it kind of doesn't matter to us as a species. But for some generations it will matter, for the other groups of people and species that share out planet it already matters, and the things we're doing now will play a major role in the destruction of the environment.

Republicans think that giving gays more rights, namely the right to marry, is an "assault on the foundations of our society." To Republicans, gays are all that is wrong with our great country. Since God says their actions are punishable by death Republicans can't fathom why we'd want to condone their behavior. They've said we should round them up and put them in cages until they die off (since they can't reproduce the gays will stop existing). One even said the government should kill them all, an idea certain idealists took to heart. So at the very least, Republicans are saying they should just be happy that we aren't doing that to them and accept the separate-but-equal "registered domestic partnership" status, where we more or less arbitrarily decide whether or not that means a gay person's partner gets to be included on end of life decisions, get to visit in the hospital, and gets custody of the children.

Republicans do believe that we should be energy independent (or they're at least publicly saying so), but all that means is more drilling on our lands. Wind energy and solar energy are scams that don't create jobs and don't create energy, and since the environment isn't something they're concerned with they see no downside to drilling in Alaska or the Gulf (even though the poor Gulf is just barely hanging on as it is). Fuck the polar bears, the tuna, the shrimp, the moose, the ground water. We don't need them anyway.*

I'm a big supporter of all those things and say so publicly any chance I get (still waiting for my Human Rights Campaign equality sticker to come...), so identifying with a party that is vehemently against all those things means I can never side with that party. I don't see myself identifying with any of the other parties, either, but hell would pretty much have to freeze over before I called myself Republican.

PS- If I've made too many generalizations in this post and the links don't satisfy you, please leave a comment with some of your own links or other support for why I'm wrong. I'd really love to not believe that there are people in positions of such great power (one of whom is trying real hard to be the leader of the country), but I so far haven't heard anything to the contrary.

*Incidentally, during my research I clicked on a link that took me to the GOP.gov energy website and got a 404 error. Telling.

Unsurprising Surprises

Since my early college days until pretty much now I've encountered people who have been surprised that I can write. This baffles me because I've always loved it, but the more I think about it the more it makes sense that people would react with surprise in finding out I can write decently well.

The first reason, which is the one I'm least willing to admit to myself, is that writing is still considered an art form, and when people say they're artists we just kind of assume they like to paint on the balcony but only their mothers think they're any good. Even though I tend to look at writing in a more scientific way, doing diligent research and having a well thought out plan, it is therapeutic (that's how it all started), and is an expression of myself. That I happen to be able to apply those skills to be useful to other people is the surprising part.

The other reason may be because I'm a girl (damn, I'm turning 27 in a few days... maybe I should start calling myself a woman). Women and girls are still, and probably will always be, considered far more emotional than rational, and when doing any sort of art or subjective work, like writing, we assume that emotional side will come through. I'm not exempt from this: when other women tell me they're artists or designers or something I go "well that makes sense" (though when I meet other women writers I don't have that immediate thought... strange?). This blog, since it's mine and I can do whatever I want with it, gets emotional. But my life is going to be emotional and when you tend to write about your life that'll show through. But like half the time, or maybe even more, I write about things that are going on that affect other people or animals. Sure I'm stepping in with my opinion, but again, this is my blog, so that's allowed. 

When I was starting my internship back in college I asked the editor if I could write an article for publication. It took me a few months to convince her, partially because it was for a parenting magazine and I clearly had nothing to contribute to that, but also because it was a magazine that was well respected and widely read, and they obviously needed to make sure the content in it was useful and appropriate. How much could they really expect from a young, childless intern? However, when I finally submitted my first article the feedback I got from the editor was "You can write really well. I had no idea." Damn I was proud. They let me write a handful of other articles, which were obviously edited a little for tone and audience, but still, I got published. 

Recently I was told something similar by two coworkers. One told me he'd seen this blog and knew that I was a capable writer and that the client of his I'd be taking over would be in good hands as far as the blog writing went. I was pretty pleased to hear that from a colleague. Just over a week ago another coworker said almost the same thing: he hadn't originally voted for me to join the  team, preferring another candidate, but after working with me the last two months and seeing my abilities, writing included, said I'd proven myself and he was glad I was part of the team.

While I feel like these little surprises others feel shouldn't be surprises at all, I also feel glad that they've come to those conclusions about my writing. It's something I love to do, take pretty seriously, and is supporting me (less so now, but still). I would hate to learn the oposite, though I doubt anyone would actually come up to say that to me, so hearing that I'm surprisingly good at writing is always nice to hear, even if I don't think it's surprising.

Why I Love Fall So Much

The only time of year I feel it's acceptable to dress up the animals.

When I start talking about how I love fall the first response I get is usually "well, cause it's your birthday." Which is true. I know a lot of people who love summer who were born in summer, so it stands to reason. Plus, I do love my birthday. 

Halloween being in the middle of fall, and being arguably the best holiday (especially if you're an adult), also helps a whole lot. 

Anyone can like a season or even have a favorite. I'm a little obsessed with how much I love fall. People typically feel about summer the way I feel about fall, which makes a lot of sense to a lot of people. But part of the reason why fall warrants a slight obsession is because it's so short. The fall season doesn't start until late September, and here in Southern California September and October are very summer-y months (much to the dismay of some of those summer-loving people, who get stuck with May Gray and June Gloom). This year the autumn solstice was one of the hotter, more humid days. Instead of cool breezes we got hot, dry Santa Ana winds. Rather than an overcast morning it was pushing 80 degrees before 9am. By the time it feels like fall it'll be halfway through October, and often it won't really feel like fall until November (especially if San Diego burns to the ground this year, which I have a sneaking suspicion it might). Then, as soon as Thanksgiving is over we're on to Christmas, almost a month before the winter solstice.

Actually that's a lie. I was in Target tonight and there were Halloween decorations right next to Christmas decorations. It's not even October yet.

So, fall doesn't really start until mid-October and ends as soon as we finish the last bites of pumpkin pine on Thanksgiving. Like, 5 weeks of autumn before we have to get ready for Christmas and winter. 

At least I get the whole month of October to enjoy, starting with my birthday and ending with Halloween, even if both days are hot and dry.

Love

The first being I ever loved, as in the first thing I felt love for and recognized the feeling to be love, was for my cat Milo. I loved my family, said "I love you" to relatives, and loved abstract things and ideas, but the first time I had that feeling and knew what it was it was directed at a cat.

However, anyone who has known me really at all knows that cat wasn't some ordinary cat. Milo was a family member, he was known around the neighborhood, and he was loved by almost everyone. (I only say almost because he was a cat and some people really hate cats.) My former neighbor enticed him back to our old neighborhood with chicken so he would scare off or kill the rats in her garage, leaving me, a 14 year old girl, sobbing every night for two weeks because I was terrified he'd died. Milo helped himself to our neighbor cat's food, then woke up the neighbor's daughter by just walking into their home and hopping into her bed. He brought me a prize about once a month, showcasing his talents as a hunter (which I eventually accepted).

It seems unsurprising to me that the first time I knew what love felt like I was feeling it for that cat. After that, I knew when I really felt love for others. My sisters, my best friends, my pets, other people's pets, my boyfriends, my city, jobs, an apartment, even my old car... all of these things and more I've felt that unmistakable pang of love for. I always referred to Milo as the love of my life, something that's gotten harder to keep saying.

I've had that same lovin' feeling a lot the last year. Far more than usual, even. It seemed like every day I got that feeling in the pit of my stomach, usually when I was doing something mundane like typing or watching TV or getting the mail. All of a sudden I'd just feel it and get really happy. But I also felt being loved more than I ever have. I recognize that feeling in the boyfriend and I know he feels the same thing. It's the intensity that's new.

And it all started 15 years ago with that cat. Happy 19th birthday, Milo. I still love you.