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.
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.
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.
I love this post so much I want to print it out and stick it to my wall. All of my walls. And hand it out to people I meet on the street.
Then stop it.
Then share it.
My life, at the moment, is incredibly hectic.* Whilst browsing for Christmas presents online (during my lunchbreak because I have no other time to do this!), I found an awesome site with lots of awesome calendars on it. This is when it occurred to me that having a super awesome organiser calendar could improve the quality of my life.
I’ve been pretty slack with the posting lately. If it makes you all feel any better, I’ve also been slack with uni work, keeping in touch with (most of) my friends and family, slightly slack at my day job, and 100% slack at house work – meaning I haven’t done any in a good long while. I have been thinking of posts to write for months and months, I just haven’t written anything. And sometimes, by the time I sit down to write the post, it’s no longer relevant.
However I am sick of how many bookmarks I have crying out for the blogging they were intended for. So I’m doing a link roundup with a (very!) brief summary, instead of full posts on each. Here you go readers, entries that are written better than mine would have been anyway:
Over the last couple of months (and possibly longer, but most of my life pre break-up is kind of blurry) I’ve put myself in some not-so-good situations. Some have been detailed in previous posts, some I’ve chosen to keep to myself because of embarrassment at my sheer stupidity, but none have been particularly smart. And yet, through all of these incredibly bad decisions, nothing bad has happened to me.
I’ve been planning to write this post for a while, but on Saturday night I wound up in yet another one of these situations and it all hit home how careless I really am. I was a party with a bunch of people from uni, most of whom I’ve never met before however there were a few friends mixed in there, and I got drunk. Incredibly, sickly, drunk. I ended up staying the night at a friend’s house, and hooking up with his roommate.*
There usually comes a moment in most new relationships or friendships where a feminist realises this new person she’s invested so much time and energy and trust etc in doesn’t view her as a human.*
It’s odd, because we know this to be true of most p-indoctrinated people. Things would not happen the way they do if the majority of the world viewed women as equal humans. But it’s just so heartbreakingly different when it smacks you in the face in your personal life.