uh-oh, is your child a "prehomosexual"?

via Jezebel and Scientific American

Apparently, this photo illustrates what your little girl might look like if she is a "pre-homosexual." This is seriously problematic in a number of ways. First of all, let's just address this fucking picture: a very angry-looking little girl wearing worn jeans and holding a baseball glove. How many stereotypes of lesbianism does this play into? (1) Softball; (2) Angry; (3) Masculine* . . . why is this child so unhappy? Apparently, her parents are letting her be the little tomboy she is, so I imagine she's probably pretty content. This looks kind of like the pictures of me or Liz P. as children . . . baggy jeans, boxers, big t-shirts, playing in the dirt. She didn't turn out gay, and I didn't turn out butch. So this picture must SOMEHOW NOT BE ACCURATELY PREDICTIVE OF GAYNESS!!! OMG OMG OMG.

Honestly, though, I feel betrayed by Scientific American! They're supposed to be a reputable journal and they're using the phrase prehomosexuality? That seems to assume that one isn't born gay, but rather develops symptoms of gayness and then turns into a big ol' dyke/fairy.

There are signs, some would say omens, glimmering in certain children’s demeanors that, probably ever since there were children, have caused parents’ brows to crinkle with worry.

Okay, so that part seems to imply that we might have been born this way. That's a good sign, because SciAm should be quite aware of the studies they've probably published previously that indicate the truth of that. However, it's really negative -- "omens"?

To be fair -- SciAm's article is not as awful as the title makes it sound, now that I've read it. Go ahead and take a peek, and look at Jezebel's critique, and tell me what you think.

*Not that masculinity isn't innate in some lesbians, duh. Just not all of us.

reflections on thoughts from the past

I found the journal that I was writing in in 2007. There are entries from the spring and summer, from right before I went into treatment and a very few notes from during treatment. Some of them really struck me. These excerpts are from 15 May 2007.

I'm really happy to be buying clothes that fit, and I can accept that they're Ms instead of S or XS... but at the same time, seeing so many tiny thin, toned women walking around Boston is really difficult. Not just difficult -- anxiety-provoking, painful, panic-inducing, and jealous, too, of course. A lot, though, lately I've been feeling sad or just wistful -- kind of an "I-know-I-can't-be-that" feeling, which is something I've never even come close to accepting before. Sometimes it feels like weakness to accept it -- other times, strength. I don't know -- I guess I don't think either of those is a cop-out. It's weakness in that it's giving in to my body by eating and believing that's okay. It's strength in that it's difficult to fight what I've conditioned myself to believe is the only okay thing: starve or feel horribly guilty.

For a time, I was able to accept that I had to let go of those disordered desires. I shouldn't say that I was able to accept, I should say worked hard enough to accept. In treatment and Magnolia House, I worked very hard. I worked very hard for a long time after that, too. Are my struggles now because I'm no longer working hard? Did I give up at some point, or just get complacent?

Treatment will certainly be interesting. I had all these questions: Am I sick enough? - am I thin enough? - Will it be horrible? - Will the other women be horrible? - Will...? - but I don't have/get to ask them anymore, because going inpatient isn't an OPTION to consider anymore; it's my mom's mandate. I'm not fighting it anymore; in a lot of ways, that's freeing. I wish this could have happened in early high school. I feel like I was less aware of what was going on and why, and that an intervention then would have been a little simpler. Perhaps if it'd happened, I could have avoided some of the pain of senior year and the chaotic difficulty of freshman year at Macalester.

One thing I am sure of now is that I did go into treatment at the right time. Earlier in high school I don't think it would have stuck. I think the pressures of ballet and/or cross country & track, in addition to my obsessiveness about school and refusal to take anti-depressants, would have been too much to withstand a tenuous recovery (as adolescent recoveries so often are, unfortunately). At 19, my maturity level was finally (barely) in the right place to take it all in.

I'm not scared because I keep seeing treatment as "learning how to eat" -- recovery from the symptoms. But what will be so hard, I think, will be dealing with the "underlyingness," not just of the ED, but of me. The eating disorder permeates so much of my life, is so much of my life in all its manifestations and symptoms, and I lean on it so heavily. Sometimes it's a fallback/excuse/distraction from other things, yes. Other times, however, it has not functioned solely to fill a void, but rather as a huge entity of its own. . . I mean to say that it was taking up legitimate psychic space, not being used as a filler. Anyway, either way, it's a part of every relationship I have -- interpersonal, with my spaces, with my schoolwork -- and so letting go of my eating disorder would, I think, do two things. (1): Leave spaces to fill, and (2): Expose parts of me that I don't know yet. Re: the spaces it would leave, I'm actually looking forward to that in some ways; it would mean time and emotional /mental ability to dedicate to a vast number of things at Mac and in the world. About #2, though, I'm apprehensive; what are those things about myself that my eating disorder currently overshadows? Is there anything there, or is this it, me? Is there anything good there? Anything epiphanic, brilliant, revolutionary -- or is it just uninspired and bland in there? I don't really believe it's either. I hope for richness of personality, depth of love, openness of soul. I don't expect or need glory. I just worry that I can't live up to (. . .).

(I like the word "underlyingness" in there. I think JMW and I might have coined that one in high school. (Did we, J?))

It did permeate so much, didn't it? Those of you who have been there know it. People think it's food -- they're even surprised and sad when we say it's every meal, every snack, every fucking bite. But they don't understand that it's not just every meal that's taken over by the disordered thoughts and feelings; it's every minute. It reminds me of something that AEW wrote about being visibly queer, visibly butch: that she is "stared down in every grocery store, every mall, every public bathroom." A different topic and struggle, definitely, but the idea that the struggle itself penetrates every experience of every day. Your identity is, well, who you are, and when your identity has become an eating disorder, the eating disorder influences every aspect of your world.

As far as the end of that excerpt goes -- the part questioning who I am and what's underneath my ED -- those questions have begun to return. In November 2007, when I was in Magnolia House, I wrote this:

It's such a huge relief to feel like I can be who I am and really like that person. It's been such a subtle change -- I don't feel like I'm a completely different person from who I was when I was so full of self-hatred and illness, and I guess that's because I haven't changed as a person; rather, I began to see who was underneath the layers of pain and chaos and depression. I like that person. I like her self-reliance and her ability to ask for help. I like her compassion and her sense of humor. I like not feeling ashamed of "provocative" comments (because now I say them in appropriate settings). I like being rid of the stress that comes with chameleon-ism...I like seeing her remain evenly, groundedly, herself with different friends. And I like that she finds out that people like her, not her many facades.

. . . Anyway, it's kind of wondrous to read that. By that I mean both that it makes me feel admiration and wonder at how centered and healthy I was, and also that it makes me wonder how I've gotten far away from believing those things anymore. How do I get back there? How did I get there in the first place? I didn't write when I was in treatment, just before and afterward (in Mag). I didn't read books, either, though people kept sending them to me to distract me during my "free time." I just didn't have the mental energy to do so. I wish I had, though, because I feel like I need the resources that I had when I was in treatment but without going back inpatient.

I don't need inpatient care right now. I'm happy with a lot of things in my life, and I'm not fucking them up; if I were, that would be a major red flag. It's senior year and I want to graduate -- can't believe I'll be leaving college with two degrees soon and ending a long, important phase of my life. I can't wait, and I don't want to mess up my GPA/scholarship/pride in my work/etc. I'm really happy dating AEW, really happy, regardless of how things began and how many people tell me I've jumped into things. There's a Fiona Apple lyric from the song "Parting Gift," We ended bad / but I love where we started -- and I feel just the opposite about things with me and AEW.

"I want to stay in love with my sorrow / oh, but God, I want to let it go."

dear E!, what the fuck are you thinking? love, clara.

SOOO, the latest disgusting reality show to hit the air soon? It's called Bridalplasty and will feature brides-to-be competing to win small challenges (like every other reality show) that have to do with engagements, weddings, etc. The twist? The winner of the challenges gets to CHOOSE HER OWN PLASTIC SURGERY PROCEDURE, which is completed for her before her wedding, and then the groom DOESN'T GET TO SEE HER "NEW FACE" until he lifts the veil at the wedding! I don't even know how to rant about this -- I'd love to hear what media critic Jen Pozner has to say about it -- looking forward to her feedback whenever it pops up on the interwebs.

(via Jezebel)

TheFrisky gets something right for once

"We’ve come a long way, baby—but if you ask Gloria Steinem, the de facto mother of modern feminism, we still have a really long way to go."

The article actually does a good job discussing women's place in society and how they're the only ones to ask the question, "Can I do family and work?" while men are content to settle for one or the other or both with few consequences -- because they assume that women will take care of the rest of it. I mean, I think that's a total oversimplification, but kudos to TheFrisky for doing something less awful than some of their other stuff.

adventures at the abortion clinic

B__, one of the regular protesters who's been there for years and years with his wife R___, informed me on Friday that he prays for me every day (I thanked him, sincerely, because I think that's very kind of him), and then told me that I'm "too intelligent to be pro-choice. To be honest, I'm very concerned for your soul---I want you to end up in the Kingdom of Heaven." . . . I don't really understand why MY salvation is at risk just because of this, in their eyes. Maybe I should tell him about all the gay sex I have so he can switch his focus. Honestly, I would, except then they'd have motivation for the anti-choice cause by saying that all the pro-choice women are never going to be pregnant because they're gay as fuck.

40 Days for Life starts soon, and the Tulsa chapter of it has been paying top dollar for a bunch of billboards around Tulsa that make so much no sense at all -- it's a picture of a cute little baby, and next to it are the words Where Have All the Babies Gone? I overheard a friend saying, "I mean, I see them screaming at the supermarket all the time, so they can't be that far away..." Seriously, they could have SUCH BETTER advertising than that. I have to wonder where they're getting so much goddamn money for this shit. And they're constantly blaming Repro for our abuse of funds -- despite that we're a non-profit organization.
. . . And are they trying to do a play on words with the lovely Peter, Paul, & Mary song Where Have All the Flowers Gone? Because that's really weird.

feeling is first

since feeling is first
who pays any attention
to the syntax of things
will never wholly kiss you;

wholly to be a fool
while Spring is in the world

my blood approves,
and kisses are a better fate
than wisdom
lady i swear by all flowers. Don't cry
- the best gesture of my brain is less than
your eyelids' flutter which says

we are for each other; then
laugh, leaning back in my arms
for life's not a paragraph

And death i think is no parenthesis

-e.e. cummings

_________

You know, I think it might be a blessing in disguise that I am so governed by my emotions. I'm sometimes so overwhelmed that I get depressed, anxious, despairing, dramatic, bulimic, whatever -- but isn't that something that, if I could harness it, could be a powerful gift? Couldn't I write again, write for real, write well? I miss being able to put those feelings into poems instead of behaviors. They're much nicer that way, and much more contained.

from a letter to Mae, plus some mo'

Just because I'm doing better than I was before doesn't mean I'm ready to be all gung-ho-recovery-girl. I don't want to be perceived as that right now if it's not how I really feel, if it doesn't reflect my level of motivation. But really, I don't know what I want or what I am doing, or where any of this is going to lead me. Does that count as working on recovery?

Why are we stuck in these battles we already have the tools to win? Why are we not content with the beauty, strength, love, and intelligence that each of us sees in the other? Sometimes I am incredulous that it has been 3 years of our lives that we have known each other and fought together and yet we still battle the same demons. . . . but maybe it is naive of me to think that demons ever change -- maybe they are constants in everyone's lives and ours happen to manifest in this way over and over. In one way, maybe we are lucky to be able to give our demons a name --ED, self-harm, bulimia, anorexia-- while others battle blindly against nameless, faceless ones. At the same time, though, I wonder if that makes us the unlucky ones; in naming our problems, do we give ourselves an excuse not to look at their core, look behind them to find out the real troubles, just because we think already know what they are? We know so many words, but we have still been fighting for years and years. Since I was 14! That's 9 years.

I don't mean to make it sound like I think our struggles are fruitless. On the contrary, I think we have . . . uh, a lot of fruit. I don't at all think we're hopeless. I just wish it didn't have to be like this.

thoughts from a lesbian on fighting for feminism while fighting against an ED

I'm returning to this blog thing with a bit more passion and direction. "Passion" might not be the right word, actually. "Purpose" might be more accurate. I'm going to purposefully focus on the things I'm passionate about. And then write about them here.

Currently, that means focusing on feminism, lesbianism(/queerness generally), eating disorders(/recovery), and cats. Mreowww.

All of those things are (obviously) interconnected; my feminist self is so proud of me for coming out and being happily gay, but that same feminist voice is very irritated with the part of me that is refusing to get both feet over the doorstep of recovery from my eating disorder. And I think that Floozy is obese again, which is definitely related to EDs and recovery, because I'm letting her meal plan get out of hand as much as mine. Sorry, Flooze. We will work on our MPs together. My ED urges also are interfering with my relationships, as they always do -- friends, family, love -- everything is affected, and it will be affected in the same way every time. How can I keep telling myself that it's not true, that "It'll be different this time because of ________"? It's easy to fool myself into thinking that I'll get away with being in recovery halfway. It's easy to think I can just lose a little bit of weight and then I'll be able to stop, that it won't lead to a cycle of restricting, bingeing, restricting, purging . . . Maybe seeing it in print here will help me be accountable, help me realize that I've admitted it's impossible to hold onto just half of my mental health and ignore the rest.

A disclaimer for my friends from LPCH: I'm going to be posting a lot of thoughts about recovery and eating disorders and how I'm doing personally, and I don't want it to be triggering -- but it might be, and if it is, just comment or shoot me an email and I'll be more careful / take down the offending post.