Saturday, June 20, 2015

Cancer season

I'm fascinated by Astrology. The rational side of my brain knows there probably isn't a ton of science behind it. The rest of me finds it to be a pretty accurate way to measure and predict moods and communication, and sometimes even events.

I came across this post about what it's like to love a Cancer (someone born between June 21 - July 22. My birthday is about three weeks into the Cancer month. I find I am (mostly) a typical Cancer (that whole "loves to cook" thing sorta passed me by - but I do love to eat, so there's that).

"Cancers continually find themselves in situations where they have to 'let go' but they have a hard time doing so.... They hold on through thick and thin but have a hard time recognizing when it’s time to finally cut the cord."

This is definitely a problem for me. I am notoriously bad at knowing when to say goodbye. I always want to give people just one more chance. Part of it is because I'm so afraid I'll walk away just when they are about to make whatever change I've been waiting for. I find myself not saying goodbye because I'm afraid my lack of patience will cause me to miss out on something great.

Recently, I have learned that while patience is a mature, positive virtue - sometimes, when your gut says it's time to say goodbye, ya just gotta listen. I've also learned that if you really don't want to listen to your gut, you should have one or two friends to whom you will listen. This is super-important.

"If we ever mistakenly forgot their birthday, [a Cancer will] remember the exact year and all the details surrounding precisely why [we forgot]. They will forgive but never forget... If there’s some debate on what to get them, I’d suggest a simple token of appreciation for all they do. That’s all these old souls really want."

It's also important to have friends who remember our birthday. It annoys us when they forget. (Also, my favorite color is purple, my shoe size is 6, and I've never met a sparkle I didn't like. Remember, I'm mostly a typical Cancer. This old soul likes cute stuff.)

"Sometimes it’s hard for the rest of us to let go of them too since we tend to feel so at home when they are with us."

This has historically been a huge problem for me. People get comfortable and they stick around long after they know they should say goodbye. If I'm distracted, I might just think they are still around because it's what they want. I'm getting better at recognizing the signs of someone who wants to leave - and also at being the one to say goodbye.

Guess I'm a little more adaptable than the typical Cancer, too.

Friday, April 24, 2015

No argument here

Recently I've been in a couple of conflicts, with two unrelated people. In both cases, I came into the situation with a completely different perspective and recollection of what had happened to get us to the point of conflict.

Both were convinced I was in the wrong.  My views were "skewed." I was laying blame. I was being selfish, doing things only to make myself look good to others.

I disagreed with both. While I absolutely know I can be selfish, I truly didn't think I was in either case. While I do an awful lot to make myself look better, this comment had more to do with actions than a Sephora purchase. As for my views... I could have listed example after example in support.

My first inclination was to do just that. I wanted to rise to the argument, and defend my feelings, perspective, and actions. But I didn't.

Sue from a few years ago may have. She may have found herself in an all-out shouting match, making sure everyone understood exactly why she was right.

Present-day Sue just can't. I let that instinct settle, and then pass. Not just because I wanted to avoid the conflict, and not at all because I didn't want to stand up for myself. Definitely not because I thought I was wrong - it all came down to feelings, and I'm as entitled to mine as anyone.

I didn't argue because I honestly didn't see the point. Both people came at me prepared to fight. They were never going to back down. The louder I protested, the louder they would have argued. All that accomplishes is a bunch of yelling and no listening - which has never, ever solved a problem.

I guess I've come to realize that if someone doesn't care how you feel, simply speaking your mind more loudly isn't going to change theirs. It's not unlike raising your voice when speaking with someone who doesn't understand your language. You can repeat yourself as loudly and as often as you want - to them, you simply don't make sense.

So I never argued. I never defended myself. I let both people walk away thinking I'm selfish and awful and that I don't care. Which, is what they already thought anyway.

I'm not sure if that's me being selfish, lazy, or mature. You can decide for yourself - I won't argue.

Monday, April 20, 2015

Is thin privilege a thing?

I've been wanting to write about this for a while, but could never find the right words. A few weeks ago I stumbled upon this post about "thin privilege" that seems to hit the proverbial nail right on the head.

For anyone who doesn't know me, I'm definitely a plus-size woman. Call it curvy, BBW, big, fat, thick... whatever. I'm not thin. I struggled with my weight for years. I was taught that I would never be pretty or worthy of love unless I was thin. People (who supposedly cared about me) went out of their way to make me feel bad about how I looked to motivate me into losing weight so I'd finally be good enough. The irony, of course, was that the worse I felt, the less I cared about losing weight. (Something to consider if you think fat-shaming is an effective motivational tool.)

Then, a few years ago, I came to this realization that, while losing weight might be good for my health, that was no reason for me to see myself as inferior to my thin friends. I am just as "worthy" of love as my skinny peers, and I made a decision that I was done feeling like anything less.

But I don't subscribe to the idea that being confident in myself requires me to tear down my size-zero-sisters. Every woman, no matter her size, shape, height, color, etc, should feel beautiful.

Still, I remember the first time I heard a thin woman take exception to a "body-positive" message, I was confused. Didn't they understand that "real women have curves" isn't intended as an insult towards them, but as empowerment towards plus-size women? Don't they realize that we need that empowerment because we're all trying to overcome a feeling of being something less?

It occurs to me that maybe they don't. If a woman has always been thin, she has no idea what it's like to have been made fun of in school, or turned down for dates, or unable to buy clothes that fit. She has no concept of how it feels to be discriminated against because of her size. Phrases like "skinny bitch,"  or "eat a sandwich," might sound harsh, but they are actually used to express envy. "Thunder thighs," and "beached whale," on the other hand, are absolute insults. People are generally not envious of bigger women.

No one questions why a woman is thin. If someone is too thin, people immediately (and genuinely) worry about her health. Overweight women are labeled as lazy and gross and shoved to the side. Ever notice how plus-size clothing is shoved into a corner, in the back of the department? That's not a coincidence. Fat is something we're taught to equate with shame. Being thin should make you proud.

I'll never think body-shaming in any form is OK. No one should be made to feel bad about herself. But if you're wondering how there could possibly be such a thing as "thin privilege," there it is. It's found in not having to excuse your appearance, or find "flattering" outfits (since you're already beautiful). It's not having to worry that your blind date will get up and leave when he sees you, or worrying that you can fit into the bridesmaid dress your friend chooses.

The privilege is in always knowing that you were good enough, and not needing empowerment in the first place.