Ok World, Let's Be Better: Hidden Male Depression

Photo credit Vincent Giordano/
Trinacria Photography

Yet another web famous, "well-adjusted," happy teenager commits suicide. When I see titles like this, I can't help but be concerned. The CDC reports that suicide is the third leading cause of death among people aged 10-24 in the US, 4,600 young people a year, and 81% of these deaths are males. We are failing teenage boys. Something needs to change.

As a teacher of literature, I feel like I have a relatively opportunistic stance in the education of young people: through literature we can wrestle with social and emotional issues that the media sometimes portrays as black and white and make things a little complicated. Classically feminist readings are sometimes the most advantageous places to promote gender discussion.

The Child Study Centre reports that by 13 years, twice as many girls as boys are clinically depressed and tend to stay that way till adulthood. An Oxford University study, further, found that while women are 40% more likely to develop depression than men, they are also 75% more likely to report having been recently depressed and 60% more likely to report an anxiety disorder.

These conflicting statistics beg the question: how well do we really know how our boys feel?

Boys, young men, older men, they are sensitive and emotive, sometimes behind an exterior of lackadaisical indifference, anti-social behavior, or, so it seems, a restless splash of happiness.

While gender-concerned groups have worked to make it safe for women to like science and maths, found non-pink and biologically accurate barbies, dolls, and other toys, and made the world a safer place for trans-gender children, boys have often born the brunt of the media disdain, being either ignored or chastened for their (boy)sterous, wild behavior and non-pc language, being proffered as potentially abusive, both physically and sexually, and more often than not, set up as a societal villain.

The hashtag #noteveryman sparked outrage in 2014 when men pushed back against allegations that "men are..."

Yet as men are villainized in the media around the world, (and sometimes rightly so), have we been offering boys any alternative to the guns-blazing, super-hero motif that we've been offering them? While I want our boys to see strong, complicated characters, with weaknesses and struggles, and ALSO integrity, I also want them to feel like they can make mistakes and search there hearts for answers. I want them to know that they are not inherently bad, and that they have a lot to offer the world.

Are we living in a world that doesn't offer them any way out of either the "badass" motif or the "nice guy" motif? I would say that the evidence doesn't seem to imply this.

We need to do better, for women, yes, who more often than not tend to be victims in our world, but also for our boys, and our men, who have the same sensitive hearts, anxieties, fears, and sadness, and who are much, much less likely to tell anyone about it until it's too late.

My Other Half

“According to Greek mythology, humans were originally created with 4 arms, 4 legs and a head with two faces. Fearing their power, Zeus split them into two separate parts, condemning them to spend their lives in search of their other halves.” ― Plato

People who say that Eastern philosophy is dead in the West need to check out our attitudes of love and romance. Everywhere you go ideas of "incomplete", "better half," "significant other," "partner," and now even "relationship synergy" abound. Millions of people have taken to dating websites, marriage websites, and I believe that now 1-8 marriages found each other online. WOW. Yin and Yang philosophies abound, that the dichotomy of man and woman (or woman/woman, man/man) is a balance that exists for a reason, that we complete and fulfill one another, and that being alone is bad.

In the age of internet quiz mania (which I absolutely love btw), we can find our Disney Prince, discover Your Celebrity Boyfriend, (I could go on, alas, but I won't.)

Even more embedded in the Chinese philosophy of balance and embodying yin and yang is the dragon and the phoenix. Traditionally also representing the Emperor and his Empress, the dragon embodies justice, power, and all things masculine. The phoenix, on the other hand, is mercy, healing, grace and other traditionally feminine virtues.

While internet quizzing may not be the way forward, now, more than ever, society is studying human cultures, impulses, drives, talents, and voices. We want to know about the experiences of different races, religions, sexes, genders, (I could go on). But often one voice that is always heard with sarcasm and derision is the voice of the celibate. The voice of people who have chosen to forego sex, to not seek for balance within a partner, but within themselves. I do acknowledge that many couples don't adhere to the "complete me" mentality; however, I still find it as a default attitude in many people and cultures that I encounter.

So as a single almost-30, I've been lauded for my hard work and prowess, and derided for being "too independent," "too clever," and even been told "men like women who need them." And while I didn't give into those taunts that I'd be single forever unless I toned down my independence, a part of me bought the dichotomy philosophy, and I focused on being the phoenix: I became gentle, I invested in people, I worked on my care giving, I improved my listening techniques.

None of that is wrong. There is nothing wrong with gentleness, peace-making, listening, mentoring, etc. It's to be applauded wherever it is found. The mistake I made was within myself to say, "I'm the phoenix, I take care of people and sometimes others take advantage of me, so I need a dragon... someone who will stop others from taking advantage, protect me, support me. Someone I can nurture and heal."

Being a martyr and letting people take advantage of your gentleness isn't being a phoenix. Waiting for someone to rescue you isn't a good thing. Sometimes us single girls have to rescue ourselves. So now that I've developed the phoenix in me, (and my inner dragon has laid dormant for a while) I need to get back to developing the dragon. For me, this does not mean being masculine, but walking the line of grace and justice. Forgive people, but let them know they hurt you. Invest in others, but not at the sacrifice of your own health and well being. For me, this also means that I've started taking jiu jitsu classes.

One of my passions is educating the more forlorn members of the world. My dream is to move to Brazil and work with street children and ex-prostitutes. Every person I've talked to about this has mentioned how dangerous Brazil can be. While the Brazilian people I've met are generous and loving, many Brazilian women have told me horror stories of misogyny in their country. While a lot of men are now standing with women for women's rights, there are still men who feel entitled to prey on women. More often than not this happens in developing cultures. Like the people I most want to reach. So should I wait for a man to marry me and join in on my quest? #Ain'tnobodygottimeforthat. No. I'll take jiu jitsu and hone my self defense skills. I'll read up on the risks and dangers of this part of the world--I'll invest in the dragon part of myself.

Proverbs 27:17 says "As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another." 

While this verse has been adopted in many marriage ceremonies, the original context was living in community. Being friends and family with others. I love this verse because it shows the importance of being in relationships with others without implying deficiency. Iron is iron, regardless of other iron being around: a sword, a shield, a knife, a spear. Whatever tool or instrument you are, YOU are YOU, whole and complete, just as you are. The other iron--the partner, friend, family member, community--they make you better than you were before, but don't complete you. Yes, we all have tendencies and personality traits in any number of psychologically and emotionally measurable rubrics, but we don't have to wait around for the right people to come around to balance us out. We can see and know ourselves and balance ourselves out. This way, we're giving our communities, our partners, our friends and family even more of the good in ourselves--we aren't expecting others to be what we need them to be in order to be what we are. So take a deep breath, drink in peace in the knowledge that you, all by yourself, are whole, complete, and awesome. Good talk. High five!

Psalm 139: 14 "I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works; that I know very well."

The Whistle

I heard it today. The whistle. I was just coming up the stairs to go to bed and I heard it... it wasn't the right tune of course, but I was curious. Who else would whistle on my street, outside my window loud enough that I could hear it half-way down my stairs? Silly single-paned windows. But even though I looked outside with half-hearted earnest (I was prepared for no one to be standing there), a twinge twisted in the sinews of my heart for just a moment and I remembered my little bird, and I missed him.

My little bird... but you are always everywhere. The chasm of everything we don't say to each other keeps filling up because words... words are too small for what we're feeling right now. Most of the time I can  hold in all the words: the moments I wanted to tell you about, the thoughts I had about the book, the film, the smile, the strange encounter - it's been months, but I still have the urge to tell you everything. When I don't think I can take it anymore, and I feel like all the words I'm holding back are going to burst out of me like emotional bulimia, I come here to twist my purging into some weird art.

My little bird... I still see your smile, hear your laugh; I still wonder what you would think about things, the recipe I'm trying, the outfit I'm wearing... would I see a crinkled nose? Would you throw your head back in your enthusiastic way and laugh heartily - I do miss your laugh... it was just like you: genuine and straight from the heart.

Please don't think I don't understand... I do. You see, my heart is lying to me... she's telling me that you could be the most important person in my life, and me to you... she's telling me that we're wasting so much time being apart - if we really love each other, we'll never get these moments back. But she's wrong - what's happening now in our hearts, in our minds, in our lives - these things are important right now. These things are forming us, even this terrible distance, even imagining my little bird outside my window, even understanding that we need this time apart... these things are important. I have to believe this, even if it turns out not to be true, I'm going to believe it because it's terrifying to think that one person not being in my life could ruin my life. Could I give anyone that much power? Not that I'm impervious - oh no - you have power, influence... a lot of it, my dear, but even you won't leave my life a ruin. How could you? You've only done positive things in my heart; only tore down ruins and rebuilt encouragement and love... these edifices stand intact: no ruin here, I assure you.

So I tell myself over and over: you will have all the time you need. And I believe it. And I hope.

So please hope too... the words aren't coming because I'm afraid I'd drown you in the deluge and right now prudence is needed. One day will be a day for words; for now, silence and hope and heart-wrenching little whistles that are not my bird outside my window.  

Tonight I can write...

Tonight I can write the saddest lines

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
Write, for example,'The night is shattered
and the blue stars shiver in the distance.'
The night wind revolves in the sky and sings.
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.
Through nights like this one I held her in my arms
I kissed her again and again under the endless sky.
She loved me sometimes, and I loved her too.
How could one not have loved her great still eyes.
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
To think that I do not have her. To feel that I have lost her.
To hear the immense night, still more immense without her.
And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture.... Pablo Neruda 

Sometimes people make choices for you and you get some ice cream, and even if you didn't have any part of the decision making process, and even if you don't particularly love the flavor they picked, you still get ice cream, and that's usually ok unless you're diabetic or lactose intolerant.

Then sometimes people make decisions for you and it means that no matter how much you love them, no matter how much you felt their love, and they said they loved you, they choose not to communicate with you or answer your communication. This type of decision pretty much sucks because you want to have faith in this person. You want to believe that the love meant something. You want to believe that you aren't the kind of person who can be thrown away. You want to believe that all of this non-communication is for a reason, that there's some answer to it all that maybe you just don't see right now and if this person would just get back to you everything would be clear.

I discovered Pablo Neruda in middle school and he's been one of my favorite poets since then. This amazing poem has so often been my comfort when relationships go on pause or end or turn sour. It encompasses all the "not thereness" you feel, staring up at the beautiful night sky, feeling the cool evening breeze, knowing that any other night, this person would be there with you, shielding you from the chill, but now you shiver and the moon is so bright and shining down on you, seemingly asking you where your person is... Where is he? He's far away and I tried to talk to him and he's not responding and I want to believe it's for a reason, but, Moon, I'm not sure. Maybe it's just you and me.

Because though it is easier not talking, let's face it, it's easier, especially when the Moon is shining on us from so far away... When I can't reach out and grab his hand to make him look at me, or feel his eyes searching me for an answer. When he can't see my lips purse suddenly as I have a thought and he can read the meaning without me saying... when those things can't happen, talking isn't easy.

It isn't easy, but part of me is rebellious because this wasn't my choice - not entirely. Even if I agree, it wasn't decided with me, it was decided for me, and now I just don't know what. That little voice in my heart believes even when practicalities tell me to give up hope. And walking home with the Moon, past the groups of people heading out, past the pairs and trios of friends laughing and smoking cigarettes on their way home, past the couples leaning into each other away from the breeze, holding hands... And me, staring up at the Moon, wondering if he was staring up at the moon and thinking of me; Staring up at the moon and missing the dark, smiling eyes, the freckle at the end of his nose, the list could go on... Just missing... a lot seems missing tonight, but thank you Moon, for the brilliant light, for shining... I needed you tonight. 

I still got it

So today I got home earlier than usual... It's the last day of term and I just wanted to get out of there. Made a pot of tea, got my little nest ready on the couch with some work and a variety of entertainments to procrastinate with... the take out Vietnamese place with the good curry would be open in an hour. Score.

I hear a knock at my door and I see a red jacket and think it's the post man. No... It's the British Red Cross canvassing my neighborhood. It's all good. I donate to the BRC--they do fabulous work. I figure I'll have a short chat, and get back to my tea and books. He starts his spiel and asks my name and when I answer, his face lights up... I'm American. He's delighted. He energetically tells me about how much he wants to live in America, how much he loved NYC, what he's studying, interspersing his exclamations with questions--peppering me with details about where I'm from, where I work, why I'm here, etc. etc. We're never going to get to the BRC, I think, but I didn't mind. He was sweet and adorable. Indian. And he's from the neighborhood I lived in a few years ago, so we chat about the local park, the good and bad streets, etc. It's nice. At the end of our 45 min conversation, he wanted to give me a hug... I held out my hand for a handshake, but he pulled me in anyway. It wasn't creepy--he was just sweet.

In a way it was so weird, but in a nice way. I'm not really used to being "a woman" I guess. Most of the guys I encounter don't seem at all interested in the fact that I'm a girl. At work, I try not to be too much of a woman to my 15 year old students for obvious reasons, co-workers are married or, co-workers (obvs, but yeh), friends are either just that--friends, or married...

It's been a while since I've gotten chatted up/asked out and especially at the convenience of my own home--hell, in my pjs! He was just shy of asking me out, saying he'd hopefully see me around. I don't think this means he's going to stalk my house, I think it was just wishful thinking, but it was nice to have someone look at me like I'm beautiful and be so excited to know me. It gives me hope that I will one day meet that special someone without having to resort to some sort of internet match making service which I defiantly ignore. :)

Hot damn! I still got it!

I need feminism because...

I need feminism because of adds like this... 

Marlene Dietrich rocks a suit....
showing Lana how it's done. 

 I'm really tired of women's bodies being exposed and used as currency. I'm tired of seeing "healthy" women posing with rock hard abs in workout videos and their ribs sticking out. I'm tired of all the "get skinny" ads I see. I'm tired of people assuming there is only one kind of beauty and it comes in angles and clear skin and long hair and being edgy.

I'm tired of hearing arguments about "legitimate" rape and whether or not someone "should" be on birth control. I'm tired of fashion and style being more important than heart and character.
I'm tired of women's bodies being treated like currency, and seeing women treat men the same way... like beautiful, fashionable pieces of meat.

I'm tired of having flesh and some cellulite being high treason. I'm tired of the surgeries, laser treatments, scrubs, waxes, lotions, tonics... I'm tired of being human and having a human body being wrong, dirty, and unbeautiful. Sometimes I'm convinced we hate ourselves.

I know sometimes the "I need feminism because..." signs can be obnoxious, but they are women's hearts. Feminism is not saying men are horrible and we hate them. It is not saying men are useless and we don't need them. It is declaring that women are people just as men are people.

What would it look like to love ourselves and each other as we are? To respect each other so much we couldn't objectify one another. What would it take in our hearts to validate everyone's sacred humanity? To hold other people's hearts and feelings in our hands the way you hold something fragile and sacred and alive like a butterfly or a praying mantis.

I'm not blaming men here. Men and women have both gotten us into this mess. This mess where nearly seeing Lana Del Ray's snatch on the cover of a magazine is ok. 

My Nephews Are Super Heroes

I have two nephews... 15 years old and 7. They are absolutely super. There is something in little boys so that when they see a need, they jump in. In my limited experience of 28 years, there seems to be a time when men fade into themselves and don't always offer their strength anymore. Definitely not all men, but watching my nephews jump in with all their boyish prowess is beautiful and manly and endearing.

not really my nephew 

We went to the zoo yesterday with my nephew (7). He ran around snapping photos of the animals with his camera like a pro. There is an awesome playground at the zoo and us adults got a cold beverage and sat at the picnic table while he ran around to his hearts content. Soon, some friends came and there were 3 other girls that he knew to play with on the playground. He comes running over to us! "Breylin needs someone to push her on the swing!" Without getting up, Breylin's dad glanced over... "I'm sure you can push her buddy." and went back to his cigarette and adult chat. Ethan, ever ready, runs back to the damsel, sitting on her swing, glancing around as Daddy doesn't get up. Ethan charges to her aid and gives her 2 mighty big pushes (this girl is nearly as big as him and his 7-year-old-self) and then jumps on his own swing and catches up.

In the car on the way home, AC broke... like ya do in Jersey, the windows were DOWN, which gave my sister-in-law and brother some breeze in the front seat and created a wind tunnel of death in the back. Maddie gave Ethan a blanket and when I got cold and was crouching down to avoid the air, Ethan in all his ingenious boyness, holds the blanket up in front of the window to block the wind from me. The frozen damsel looked over and her hero had an ironman blanket held up to defend her from the freezing blast! And then we made a tent and made animal noises underneath it and talked about the zoo.

My other nephew, though not quite so heroic as little E-man, went about at the family bqq quietly asking everyone if he could help them at the age of 15. He did half a dozen odd little jobs for everyone from me, to the grill man, to my grandmother, always offering his seat, always standing if not enough chairs, always getting little things from inside for people, waiting for everyone else to eat first, helping clean up other people's plates. This is not something I usually encounter. I'm so impressed by these awesome boys and I hope they keep this sense of active-love in their hearts as they grow up. If more and more young boys (and girls) live like this, I have great hope for our world.

I always fall for the wrong guy: Part 3 - Effect

Have you ever met one of those guys that you automatically click with? He's funny, he can get you smiling in a second. You feel at ease with him automatically, you can talk to him effortlessly... so of course, you put him in the "friend box" where you will never screw up the friendship... ever.

And then, there are the guys I fall for (as of late), the artistic and kinda moody guys. They are quiet so you always wonder what they are thinking. You never know what to do around them, so you fidget and wiggle and feel awkward and stupid things gush out of your mouth and if you are like me, you get very very clumsy around them in the manner of Lorelai Gilmore walking into doors (which, btw, I have done...).

I've been thinking lately of the effect people have on me, and what I want my effect to be on them. It's true that because I am shy on the inside, when I like someone, I get awkward and quiet and stupid and clumsy... but shouldn't a great guy have a great effect on me?

There are a few different guys in my life at the moment and I'm going to leave out names and just describe effects...

1. Always makes me smile, gets me giggling, cheers up the entire room. Can talk serious if need be. Helpful. Kind. I leave with a smile, and usually still laughing at the jokes we've shared.

2. Always makes me feel shy, like I might say the wrong thing. Hard to read his thoughts. I can't tell if we're friends or just acquaintances. I have a feeling that he is deeply genuine and that most of what he thinks isn't spoken. I want to know these thoughts, but am scared of asking. I always leave him feeling uncertain.

3. Super efficient. Cheerful in a customer service kind of way. At times, I feel I get the brush off. I leave feeling nettled.

4. Very nice. Very cheerful. Courteous almost to a fault. I want to rile him up and make him unsettled cause it's fun. I like pushing his buttons and it's amazing he still hangs out with me. I feel like Stitch with my badness level up high when I hang out with him. He sees all my argumentativeness and whatnot mostly because he is nice enough to take it. Sometimes I think he sees it as a bit of fun, sometimes I think I exasperate him... I leave feeling like I might need to apologize, and a bit cheeky and naughty, but in a cheerful kind of way.

I'm not saying any of these guys would want me (we'll get to the effect I have on others in a moment)... but of these 4... I should definitely want number 1, right?... But alas, number 2... I'm not going to try to psycho-analyse it at all... it's not true love either. It's just a crush. But, if I could pick who I have a crush on... number 1 all the way.


Ok... so... the effect we have on others doesn't have to be known... effect can be subtle and unspoken and even unrealised. I've seen people whose presence inspires strength and hard work, and others whose presence inspires silliness, whose presence drags people down... not by the interactions, just by the energy they bring.

I want to be a safe place for people... to have strong, soft, peaceful arms that can hold them when they are upset, that can wipe away tears, that can listen (well, ears). I want to bring peace to confusion and order to chaos. God help me... literally...

I want to be joyful. Come for a laugh, a giggle, a joke, a smile. I want eyes that shine with love and happiness which comes from the Lord. I want that beautiful radiant energy that gets people's toes tapping and leaves them shaking their heads. Again, Lord help me... (and coffee ;))

I want to be a place of wisdom... where ideas can be heard and weighed and measured and where it's ok to be wrong. I want people to be able to bring issues and problems and ideas and passions to me. To tell me their dreams. I want to make sure I don't judge people, but am full of encouragement and hope and sound judgement, truth and honesty... God, give me clarity and foresight and a wise tongue.

There are so many other things I want my presence to bring to a space, but I think those are the big three. I can imagine a steel post in the ground... it bends and moves, but it doesn't break, it doesn't get torn out of the ground, it's flexible enough to endure, and strong enough without being impervious.

Imperviousness doesn't allow anything in... It blocks and if something penetrates it, it shatters... It's brittle and breakable, relying only on it's exterior to protect it.

But we know, from Father Raniero Cantalamessa, that God's victory is not one of power, but of love... where he took evil onto himself and with his love he transformed the evil into love, so that love is all that is left...

I hope beyond hope that whatever else people feel when they walk away from me, that the residue of love is glittering over them. As for the guys... we'll sort out my craziness another day... 

I always fall for the wrong man... Part 2: Snow White

I'm not going to lie... I was really excited for this film, and I have really mixed emotions about having seen it.

After reading this review by James Franco hailing Stewart and kinda, sorta condemning the writers... I can see his point. Most of my qualms have to do with the writers... I will admit that.

The film was visually stunning, as it promised. I really enjoyed the forest, the dwarves, the castle... everything was a menagerie of terrifying, mystical and whimsy animals and creatures.

I enjoyed the menacing paradox of the Queen... locked into a lie and a spell as a girl. I felt like they spent a lot more on Ravena's character development than on Snow White's... She barely has any lines, and while her actions speak, and while others speak about her, and her "effect" on people speaks... she sort of jumps into a very dramatic speech at the end that falls a bit flat. I really wanted her to be the inspiring character that she was meant to be, but... I felt like I was being TOLD about her inspiration rather than seeing it for myself.

Likewise,... as with all films and tv, I fell for the wrong character again. I was supposed to fall for the Huntsman... he's the other title character, but I was too taken by William.

With the rise of the Hunger Games, the underdog guy has been on the market... Peeta, or more broadly, Team Peeta, has taken the world by storm... and with it, Team Gale.

William was a childhood playmate of Snow White and is madly in love with her, fiercely dedicated to the idea that he abandoned her when her father's kingdom got taken. With this new idea has come the stereotype of "The faithful guy"... He's very different than the whipped guy or the wimp guy. The faithful guy may or may not be tough. He has one driving passion... you. In any other context, he'd be considered a stalker, but in this case, he's the one. (Inspired, no doubt, by Edward Cullen... watching girls sleep... creepy)

Or in this case, he's NOT the one... since the Huntsman's kiss wakens Snow White. Here is where my real criticism comes in...

Snow White gets lured to her death by the Queen masquerading as William. Snow White loves William, kisses him... remembers him... William isn't unworthy, he spends his life trying to revenge Snow White. He tracks her relentlessly once he discovers she's alive... but somehow, Hollywood has decided the drunk, heartbroken Huntsman who had a wife like Snow White once,... He's her true love... umm... no.



The Huntsman may be a more masculine type of sexy, he may be tough and have his own issues,.. sure, he really loved his wife... sure, he might come to love Snow White... but we never get the hint ANYWHERE in the film that he thinks of her as more than a comrade or the Princess till he kisses her after delivering a speech about his dead wife and how the Queen took her.

He may believe in her... but that doesn't mean he loves her. William wants to defend Snow White--he's spent his life dedicated to her... the only possible thing I can imagine Hollywood to be thinking is that William was dedicated to his own imagining of Snow White, not who she really was... but, again, we don't see that... we see pure, loving dedication.

I don't know why Hollywood took away the kiss from William... It doesn't make sense to me. I never got the idea that the Huntsman was in love with Snow White. The closing scene where he's not at the coronation and he walks in late, she's looking for him... he seems like close friends rather than soul mates or lovers or true loves.

I'm not saying the Huntsman didn't love his wife or wasn't a good man... I'm just saying... he isn't for Snow White... not because he's a commoner or because he was married previously... just because he wasn't for her.

For the record, I've already stated my ideas about the entire Team Peeta/ Team Gale catastrophe here...

I don't know why Hollywood keeps trying to push one image of masculinity down our throats... and one kind of romance for that matter... but I wish they'd stop. Souls don't look at rippled abs and chisled jaws quite so much as Hollywood does... but the soul remembers love...

I always fall for the wrong man: Part 1... TV

For the past few days I've been obsessed with a US film which has recently come over to the UK... Revenge is like socialite 24... It's serious enough to keep me watching, but with obvious plot failures and average writing, if I'm honest.

But alas, as always, I've fallen in love... and before you go there... nope... not with Daniel Grayson, the somewhat stupid but inwardly nobel and always malleable Grayson heir.



Nope... a bit too nice. A bit boring... dashing, but... no...

Nor with the good guy, Jack Porter, who obsessively wants to redeem himself with Amanda Clarke (Ummm... btw, see Peeta in the Hunger Games and William in Snow White and the Huntsman.... is this the year the guy with the hang up comes center?)



No... in real life I'd want Jack... but not on my tv. On my tv, I, of course, want the guy who's unwanted, but also unavailable... who's very camp, a bit homosexual, and who's really bad at being bought... yes... I love Nolan Ross... the witty, geeky, billionaire who's Emily's "side kick" of sorts.


Ok... Reasons why he's fabulous... He's got great face. Nolan is always showing his true face, whether it's glaring at a person, nodding in disgust, or smiling and looking at his shoes when something amuses him... He's much more adorable than nefarious.

He's witty, and this goes a long way with me.

He's conflicted about being a bit evil and not afraid to do something about it.

He's a bit spazzy and practically a coward, and I'm sorry, but shows need guys like this... not everyone can be a ninja and have an excellent shot or secret knife throwing skills... it's completely unrealistic.

He's complicated... about his motives, about his loyalties... while the plot is complicated, the characters are flat, always having one motive, always doing the same thing over and over... Nolan actually interests me with some of his plot twists... He seems like the kind of guy who would keep you guessing, and not just because he wears jackets with surf shorts...

He has loyalty... He's there for Emily, even if he's pissing her off sometimes. He has loyalty to her father... He's there for his friends, like his friendship with Jack Porter... it's endearing...

He has no back story... where's his family? Why can't he get laid? (Like, seriously, he's not too shabby looking...)


It's just like me to fall for minor characters... Like "Naked Guy" in Gilmore Girls... like Oliver Wood in Harry Potter... like Jasper in Twilight... like MANY minor characters in LOTR... Glorfindel, Pippin, Faramir... the list could go on really... TBC

The Healing Love of Community: Spotlight on Godly Men

“We must kill the false woman who is preventing the live one from breathing.” ― Hélène Cixous

I feel like Helene Cixous would probably tell me I'm  fool for writing this post... She would be furious that I've taken her feminist philosophy and made it about humanity instead of only about women. I know men have oppressed and hurt women throughout history, but I know women are also powerful, and we also injure and ignore and have our own way of oppressing...

Studies show that men usually don't talk about things when they're upset. They let things fester. They hold things in, and it can cause some serious issues in their hearts, in their minds, and in their relationships. It ends up being bad for everyone really... and I know loads of women would say "well then just TALK about it then!"... But methinks it probably isn't that simple.

Regardless, this post isn't really about the problems between men and women (of which there are plenty)... This post is about the blessings men have been in my life the past few weeks.

You see, I've been making friends with some guys at church, and I've always had guy friends, so this is nothing new... but... God's love is just so imbued into these men that it's really healing some hurting places in my heart... and before you go there, NO... I'm not falling in love with any of them. I'm pretty sure none of them are falling in love with me.

This is bigger than romantic love.

It's God's love.

When I try to explain it, it sounds like and looks like romantic love... but it feels so much deeper and purer and smoother than all that...

It happens in things as simple as a look... these men look at my face, and it seems like pure light comes from their eyes--I actually blush sometimes and stare at my shoes, because it's powerful, as if they can see into me.

Living in London where I've encountered a lot of cat calls and men staring at me like that shark stared at the surfer girl... this is so refreshing. I don't feel like I'm going to be judged or devoured or anything. I feel like I can be an innocent girl with them... I can be free because there is nothing predatorial in the interaction. It's simple and light and lovely. So many times I either feel ignored or as though I'm the subject of a bemused hunger, but not with these fellas...

It happens with them listening, remembering things, asking me about things... knowing my life--not to get anything from me, not to come at me with romantic love, but just to know me as a sister, as a friend...

It happens with a soft word... an idea spoken so gently that I feel impelled to obey them. They aren't commanding me. They aren't putting their will on me, or even asserting an opinion or anything... these words are offered so gently, so impartially, so calmly, and I just feel the Holy Spirit in them that I just stop dead in my tracks... something in my soul seems to perk up and listen, again, not in romantic love, just in this "I know you are thinking of me and I'll listen to you" way... Similar to the way I feel the Navi in Avatar would say "I see you"...

I don't think these interactions are a me-specific thing... I think these men just have God's Spirit in them and God is letting me see glimpses of this... how His Spirit changes the way we do community and relationships. It changes how we listen to people, how we see people, how we consider things--it changes our community. It brings freedom, letting us put aside our "false" selves, and airing out the live one... I feel more like a "real" woman... more like I can be free to be a woman, more like I am accepted as a woman in society, more like I fit into the world because I'm being loved into the community there with these wonderful guys...

I think a lot of men I meet feel powerless... it's a tool used to enslave them... but men seem to have such influence over people's lives (not that women don't, but that's another post). Men are so strong--physically, emotionally, spiritually... and they can either use that strength to bless the people in their lives (and they will be so blessed indeed), or they can withhold it, or use it against them, and then, what are we to do?

All of us with our hurts and our messiness... God's love in us helps us to love each other into wholeness... so we can better be ourselves, and become better selves in the process... men and women together. Whether or not it's easy or we like it, in the beginning it was created male and female--we've been in it together since then, and there's no getting out of that community now.

Woman Hate in the News: Beware of Rant

WARNING: Angry Post to Follow 
For the past few weeks, it's been barrage after barrage of women's rights in the news. From the disgraceful rantings of Rush Limbagh, to the asinine comments by Karl Lagerfield about Adele's weight, to ridiculous laundry tags, to Santorum attacking single mothers and other Republicans propogating the "Single Mom Conspiracy"... I've had it. 


It seems like women cannot win... if we stay home and look after our children, we're horrible wasters of our education and skills, if we don't have children or hire au pairs while we work, we don't care about our children or are cold, heartless bitches, if we are thin we have eating disorders, if we're a bit bigger, we're unhealthily fat... if we have health issues that require hormone therapy (aka birth control), we're prostitutes and sluts, and while we're being called all these names, we also need to make sure everyone's laundry is done, cause God forbid traditional gender roles weren't followed. 


This is utter bullshit, but... 

Circa Etiquette of a Lady blog

If we're gonna go with traditional gender rules, as if they matter, let's think about who's not fulfilling them more... men, lately, or women. 


This article, from Esquire, circa 2009, by the sometimes controversial Tom Chiarella, describes some endearing and some innocuous habits of "men". More recently, commenting on the "Mancession", he refutes whistleblowers that men are on the decline in his nonchalant manner. 


And I don't think men are on the "decline" so to speak... but I'm seeing a lot of hate towards women in the media, and if we're going to hit up traditional gender roles, men aren't looking too good. 


I can only speak of the men that I've known, that I see... and as a woman, I'm going to play a terrible line and say that few men line up to my dad and my grandfathers... even my brothers are shining knights compared to some of the jokers I've met. 


From growing up in my family, I've learned some things about men, as follows: 

1. They may or may not be chatty as the fancy strikes them. 
2. They can fix it, even if it doesn't look pretty when they're done. 
3. By hell or high-water, they will find a way to provide for their families. 
4. They appreciate a warm meal, but won't really say much about it. 
5. Same goes for clean clothes, a hot shower, or a nice cool pool, depending on the need. 
6. They love gear. 
7. They will get up at 4am to go to work 50 hours a week, and they want you to get up with them. 
8. A cold beer is the reward of yard work. 
9. Presentation matters (whether they comment about it or not). 
10. They will judge other men on their manliness (being their bitchiness). 

From cars to computers to construction, my dad can sort it out... my brothers as well, with varying levels of success. They don't forget anniversaries or birthdays, and usually plan a bit ahead for their women's special days. They want to reap something from their labor. They may not always be jumpy and happy, and may often be considered morose and serious on occasion, but they are men. 

When I look at the problems mentioned above, women's weight, laundry, and the "Single Mom Conspiracy"... When I read Tom Chiarella talking about the nonsense of "Mancession"... (and I know he's right)... I just think, why are the assholes getting the headlines? Take a poll of single moms... you'll find out how badly they'd love to marry a man who doesn't abuse them emotionally, physically, who doesn't cheat, who isn't addicted, who's not a thief... go ahead, ask them. Not that it's all the man's fault, but, it's not all the woman's fault either... and it's certainly not a conspiracy. 

Mrs. Smith: If you don't like them we can take them back.
Mr. Smith: I don't like 'em.
Mrs. Smith: You'll get used to them... 

Ask the women with body issues, or even anyone with a nice body, how much WORK it is to stay thin... how much they don't eat, how often and for how long they exercise, how many hours and dollars they spend on waxing, dying, trimming, shaving and tucking their bodies into something the media will deem "the norm"... Ask the women with anorexia and bulemia who much they hate themselves. Ask the women with those nice curvy thighs how difficult it is to find pants to fit them, how they constantly diet, how they try to like themselves... Ask the woman who works 40 hours a week, takes care of her kids, feeds her husband and goes to bed with a stress headache every night how much she'd like a holiday that meant she didn't have to pack everything and feed everyone the entire time. How she wishes she had more of a partner. How she's angry so it's hard to stay close to her husband... Go ahead, ask her if she wants to do more laundry--I dare you. 

I'm not going to vilify men... God knows both men and women have our own issues, individually and collectively... I know that I am very lucky to have really strong models of male leadership in my life... people who haven't abused me, men who have provided for me, encouraged me, spent time with me, loved me the way little girls are supposed to be loved by their dads and grandpas and brothers... I know that it's not this simple for everyone else. Life sucks. Families hurt each other. People hurt each other... most likely because we are hurt... It's complicated, I get it. But there is no reason for so much woman-hate in the news. If you don't understand woman issues, either stay quiet (like my dad) or educate yourself... don't broadcast yourself to the world as an ignorant asshole. 

Beer Bath: On Men and Women

Conversation at lunch the other day...

C: So I'm going to Prague for Easter holidays... yeh, I'm gonna be in a beer bath for my birthday...
J1: A what??
C: A beer bath... it's like a tub full of beer...
J1: (making face) and you're gonna drink it? Like... for real?
J2: Yeh, why not?
J1: Cause your ass has been in it!
C: I don't care... it's beer!
J2: Yeh, what's the big deal?
J1: Well... are other people going to be in it with you?
J2: Why not?
C: I don't care...
J1: I feel this is the fundamental difference between men and women... cause I don't know of a woman who would drink beer that could have possibly been in her vaj... or someone else's...

Ok, true story, this was a real convo at work at lunch time. I still find it completely hilarious that my two male colleagues (C and J2) found it completely normal to drink beer that had probably washed sweat and dead skin off of their ass cracks... To me, this is just completely unacceptable.

If you google beer bath, you see a lot of blond girls with their boobs floating in a beer bath... but, I think, this is not really what it would be like... Even if it is, I'm pretty sure the beer isn't for drinking... if it is, this is one cultural experience, I will pass on...