What is going on? A post from whyimbitter? WHAT?! She still exists? What is happening here?!
My dear readers, I have been happy lately. I know some of you may need a minute to breathe after that sentence, but I must push on. It is well past my bedtime now, and I have to get the anger out before I hit the sack.
These days I have a job I actually enjoy, excel at and am challenged by enough to be happy. I am not in collections anymore and the change has been wonderful for my mental health. I haven’t been on meds in about six months and I’m doing really well.
And the key ingredient in the life makeover: the new relationship. Or not so new, given it’s six months for us next Saturday. Who knew that being with someone who treats you well, loves you, and isn’t a total douchebag would be so wonderful? And why didn’t they tell me if they knew so much?
So, what on Earth could possibly be making me bitter these days, with so much happiness and fairies and unicorns and rainbows in my life? The not quite ex wife is the million dollar answer on that one.
The entirety of this post is after the jump as it concerns personal stories, and I’d like to hide it just a little bit more than normal.
Following on from my Nice Guy posts, here are some people who write better than I do:
tigtog dealt with it nicely at Finally, A Feminism 101 Blog in Frequently Whimpered Whines: The Nice Guys™ theme song
There’s a collection of awesome at Heartless Bitches
A comic here
Can anyone guess what I’ve spent all day at work doing?
These final two scenarios are long and tied up together, so I’m making them a separate post to the first one. It’s not just because I like extra hits on my blog, I swear 🙂
Nice Guy Scenario 3; Douchebag. Not a very original nickname, granted, but I find it appropriate. And in this situation, more than in any of the others, I should have known better. I really really should have. But that’s ok, live and learn, onwards and upwards, blah blah etc etc.
A Nice Guy infestation is spreading through my life like a zombie outbreak. Only nowhere near as cool. I wish I was in a zombie apocalypse and could smash heads in with sledgehammers. That would be way cool, especially compared to … this. I have four examples for you, dear readers, just from the last couple of weeks of my life. (And on a sidenote, aren’t you all lucky I chose to stop wasting my time with these dickwads, and start blogging again? Much better use of this precious resource, I think).
At work recently, my manager played us a video from Any Given Sunday. It was Al Pacino’s speech about winning by banding together and fighting inch by inch etc. And now I want to steal the inch metaphor for my own usage, and totally corrupt it in the process.
The inch by inch theory is the reason I hold grudges for so long. Otherwise it will happen the same way every time: someone does something big and huge and unforgivable, and you walk away from them. Then, over time, you let go of the anger because you want to be lighter and happy and a better person, but there’s still no need to talk to that person. Then, you run into them somewhere and you smile a little and say hi, because what’s the point in ignoring them, and you’ve already forgotten about the mean thing, right? Plus, it’s not like you’re friends, you’re just saying hi. And then, you’re both at a party or a pub or whatever and you run into each other and there’s a bit of small talk, because after all, there’s no point in being angry anymore, right? You’re both in the same place, you may as well be nice and catching up with someone you’ve known for a while is fun. Then it happens a few more times, and you’re catching up with them more often than you’d think. And you’ve forgotten about that horrible thing, and you’re just acquaintances, so it’s all good. Until something major goes wrong for one of you, and the other is the one that is turned to. Whether it’s them or you, the bond is formed again and whatever has gone wrong is worked through and you’re closer than ever. And then they do something big and huge and unforgivable. And that’s when you remember why you weren’t friends anymore in the first place.
Since you were all hanging out for an update on me, and I love being the centre of the universe…
It’s been 10 weeks since I stopped taking anti-depressants. This is huge for me because I’m still functioning. I’m bending a bit under pressure, and there is massive temptation to just start on them again to make everything all perfect and rosy. But it won’t make everything all perfect and rosy, and it will be harder to quit next time. And honestly, if I can’t handle my shit at this stage in my life, I’ll never be able to. So it’s time to learn. And I’m actually doing pretty well at it. So yay for me.
I’m 23, so being childfree right in this moment is not that big a deal, really. Except that people normally phrase it as childless, and make many references to my age, or now being the wrong time, or my mind will change in the future. Why do they do this?
I feel a bit like I’m covering an old topic here, because I’ve been having this conversation/argument/rant with/at people for years. Ever since I decided I don’t want kids.
What does the general population find so hard to believe about the fact that I don’t want kids?
In the original draft of this post I began by listing all the qualities and characteristics about me that prove I shouldn’t have kids. And then I deleted every single line of it, because why should I have to do that? Why do I need to justify my desire not to have kids? Do I really need to prove to everyone that I’d be a shit mother so they’ll leave me alone?
When I was diagnosed with PCOS, I jumped at the chance to just say ‘I can’t have kids.’ I know that technically my chances are low, not nil, and that it is still a possibility if I want them. BUT I DON’T. Shouldn’t that be the key decider in all this? Imagine this:
Person 1: Do you want kids? Person 2: No. Person 1: ok, cool. How was your weekend?
How easy was that? So simple, so easy, no judgement.
A relative went so far as to describe all the surgeries and medical treatments a friend with PCOS underwent to have a kid. WHY WOULD I DO THAT? Expensive, painful, and ends in a baby. Why???
I’ve been warned that I could regret my decision. True, I could. I could also regret having them, and that would be a lot harder to fix. And yeah, all those people who can’t have kids? That’s a really crappy situation for them. And yet, it’s also not my responsibility. I’m not going to pop a few out just to make up for those who can’t have one. Also, surely it’s more of a kick in the face to these people to just have a baby because you can? I can’t say for certain, but I’m fairly sure it would be. Logically.
But they’re not fighting with logic, are they? They’re using guilt and thousands of years of repression and dominance to put me back in my place as a breeder. ** I don’t question people who tell me they don’t want to go to uni, don’t want to own their own business, never want to travel, don’t ever want to read a book, etc, so why the hell are my choices getting questioned?
And right there, with one word, I think I’ve found my answer. Choice. Either people are STILL struggling with the idea that it’s actually my choice if I have kids or not, or people are struggling with the idea that I would possibly choose not to have them. And if women can choose not to have kids, what else do they know they can choose? Holy crap this better be contained or next we’ll think we can run countries and stuff.
We should not have to justify these decisions in 2010. It’s almost 2011 and as women we are still having to justify why we make whatever decision we choose to make with our lives, and specifically (and more infuriating to me) our bodies. And that is complete and utter bullshit.
“I don’t want kids.” “cool, how was your weekend”.
*Sorry if this post is a bit disjointed, I’m stressed and tired and overworked. Three more reasons my lifestyle doesn’t work if you add kids to the mix.
** Please know I’m not saying that anyone who has kids is merely reduced to this. If that’s what you wanted, awesome and I’m so happy that you got that. But if you have different dreams, no one has the right to force you to follow out their ideas for your life instead of your own. It’s bullshit.
The 30th Down Under Feminists Carnival is up over at Fat Lot of Good and is overrun with awesome reads. Go check it out.
I’m not a positive person. I am a smiley, bubbly, mostly cheerful person. I’m also a total stresshead with no patience and very low tolerance for getting treated like crap.
The thing is, if I’m telling a story, or venting, or trying to get something off my chest, and your response is ‘try to see the positive side’, or ‘be a glass half full person’ or anything along those lines, you are Missing The Point.
I KNOW what the positives are. If I’ve had one bad day at work, I’m still aware of all the good things about my job. If we’re coming up with a list of reasons to stay vs reasons to leave, awesome. But if I just need to vent, your positivity does not help. It’s frustrating, annoying and makes me want to punch you in the head.
This has come up a number of times recently, mostly with boys. I can’t stand it. And if you really do go through life only looking at positive things, I cannot even begin to imagine how you get anything done. Or how you don’t just walk around in constant disappointment all day. At least when I walk into a situation, I’m aware of the good and the bad, and I’m not focusing on either. Just weighing it all up to see what’s going on.
So, positive people? Just stop please.
Same with anyone who says ‘agree to disagree’. Do not want to hear that anymore either.