The internet is a wonderful place. Of course I think that - it's how I met Windtalker. Then again, it's how I met lots of people, including some of you.
Today there are some amazing things happening out there on the internets. I'm not just talking about how beautiful it is that you can buy your books from my favorite independent bookstore as easily (but more powerfully) than amazon. Today, though, I'm thinking about this wave of disclosure and discussion about the scariest thing about being born a female.
First came finslippy's wonderful (and painfully honest) disclosure about what it's like to be a woman, to be an instant object for everyone's comment and unwilling participant in their use of you-as-object. I don't say it nearly as well as she does. Go read it, I'll wait. (you have a "Back" button - but you're also welcome to just go out and explore, it's your browser).
Then came Redneck Mommy's honest sharing for her daughter. It's worth pausing, too.
And then Mom101's amazing share that is all too common, which she also explains. The Internet as a way we can connect and collectively say You're Not Alone. Her words are just as powerful as her story. And in the midst of her words she brought my attention to some powerful, wonderful women. Naturally Why Mommy drew my attention. I was truly afraid of learning about the other women, because I have no doubt that they're awesome (and heartbreaking). I was practically sobbing from the first post I read from Why Mommy. I was inspired to share it all with you. I don't have the audience size or demographics that these women do. But then again... I don't have the same audience they do.
You know things about me. You know that I know how difficult it is to work full time and be a graduate student. And love good pastry. And meet the man of my dreams. And, sigh, have fibromyalgia.
Here's the thing. Amid the graduating, moving, getting married, honeymooning, and trying to find a "normal" rhythm, I've had very little normal. And as abnormal as I am, and as much as I like pushing the boundaries, I've been slacking too much. Yes, I've had those amazing days and all the warm fuzzies I make you nauseaus with. What you don't hear, however, are some of the in-betweens. I haven't exercised for 7 straight days in probably 8 weeks. That's not a big deal for some people. If it were just missing every 7th day, it wouldn't be for me, either. But it builds. It's not the extra weight I'm carrying around on my belly (yes, there's a bit, lately I'm wearing the pants that fell off me a few months ago). It's the more invisible weight. The less-balanced my life, the more imbalanced I am. Which seems like a "duh" and makes you roll your eyes. But when you have fibromyalgia, it's a really slippery slope. Inconsistent exercise increases pain and sleeplessness. It affects my mental health. It makes the 80 minute commute that much longer and tiring. All of which makes me less likely to exercise. And it feeds itself.
And then I stumble across this wonderful [painful] stuff, and these wonderful ladies. And I think, if they can be honest, I can be. And I think, with heartbreak, that Why Mommy can't exercise. But I can. I owe it to her, and to all the people who wish, deeply, that they could have my life. It's not perfect, but that's part of what makes it perfect. And I take it for granted. We all do. There are things each of us is blessed with that we don't give ourselves enough credit and enough enjoyment. So I exercised. And then I came here to talk to you about it.
So this is me, in 2012. I'm being more transparent, more joyful, and more daring. I've already been thinking about this, actually. Last week I took a chance. Not a big one, but a mental one. I bought Goddess Leonie's workbook. And with the magic of Graphics Four on Merrimon [local love!] I now have a two-sided, color, laser-printed, comb-bound awesomeness. I'm so, so excited about this. Last year I was overwhelmed (more than just last year). I couldn't imagine adding one more thing to all I had piled on me. This year I'm a whole new person. I'm healthier. Freer. I have the best face to wake up to. And there is change on the horizon. And I'm going to embrace it all. Because I can. Because not everyone can. But perhaps, in being a bit more open, you'll be encouraged to embrace your life a bit more fully.
Stay Tuned.
Today there are some amazing things happening out there on the internets. I'm not just talking about how beautiful it is that you can buy your books from my favorite independent bookstore as easily (but more powerfully) than amazon. Today, though, I'm thinking about this wave of disclosure and discussion about the scariest thing about being born a female.
First came finslippy's wonderful (and painfully honest) disclosure about what it's like to be a woman, to be an instant object for everyone's comment and unwilling participant in their use of you-as-object. I don't say it nearly as well as she does. Go read it, I'll wait. (you have a "Back" button - but you're also welcome to just go out and explore, it's your browser).
Then came Redneck Mommy's honest sharing for her daughter. It's worth pausing, too.
And then Mom101's amazing share that is all too common, which she also explains. The Internet as a way we can connect and collectively say You're Not Alone. Her words are just as powerful as her story. And in the midst of her words she brought my attention to some powerful, wonderful women. Naturally Why Mommy drew my attention. I was truly afraid of learning about the other women, because I have no doubt that they're awesome (and heartbreaking). I was practically sobbing from the first post I read from Why Mommy. I was inspired to share it all with you. I don't have the audience size or demographics that these women do. But then again... I don't have the same audience they do.
You know things about me. You know that I know how difficult it is to work full time and be a graduate student. And love good pastry. And meet the man of my dreams. And, sigh, have fibromyalgia.
Here's the thing. Amid the graduating, moving, getting married, honeymooning, and trying to find a "normal" rhythm, I've had very little normal. And as abnormal as I am, and as much as I like pushing the boundaries, I've been slacking too much. Yes, I've had those amazing days and all the warm fuzzies I make you nauseaus with. What you don't hear, however, are some of the in-betweens. I haven't exercised for 7 straight days in probably 8 weeks. That's not a big deal for some people. If it were just missing every 7th day, it wouldn't be for me, either. But it builds. It's not the extra weight I'm carrying around on my belly (yes, there's a bit, lately I'm wearing the pants that fell off me a few months ago). It's the more invisible weight. The less-balanced my life, the more imbalanced I am. Which seems like a "duh" and makes you roll your eyes. But when you have fibromyalgia, it's a really slippery slope. Inconsistent exercise increases pain and sleeplessness. It affects my mental health. It makes the 80 minute commute that much longer and tiring. All of which makes me less likely to exercise. And it feeds itself.
And then I stumble across this wonderful [painful] stuff, and these wonderful ladies. And I think, if they can be honest, I can be. And I think, with heartbreak, that Why Mommy can't exercise. But I can. I owe it to her, and to all the people who wish, deeply, that they could have my life. It's not perfect, but that's part of what makes it perfect. And I take it for granted. We all do. There are things each of us is blessed with that we don't give ourselves enough credit and enough enjoyment. So I exercised. And then I came here to talk to you about it.
So this is me, in 2012. I'm being more transparent, more joyful, and more daring. I've already been thinking about this, actually. Last week I took a chance. Not a big one, but a mental one. I bought Goddess Leonie's workbook. And with the magic of Graphics Four on Merrimon [local love!] I now have a two-sided, color, laser-printed, comb-bound awesomeness. I'm so, so excited about this. Last year I was overwhelmed (more than just last year). I couldn't imagine adding one more thing to all I had piled on me. This year I'm a whole new person. I'm healthier. Freer. I have the best face to wake up to. And there is change on the horizon. And I'm going to embrace it all. Because I can. Because not everyone can. But perhaps, in being a bit more open, you'll be encouraged to embrace your life a bit more fully.
Stay Tuned.
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