i whine and complain a lot. and bitch and moan and scream against life and the universe and how unfair the fates can be. i flop on the floor and kick my feet and scream and throw a fit.
or at least i would, if i had somebody that would listen to me complain.
because sometimes i think life is very unfair. and i mean beyond the terrible bad things that happen to good people. i mean on a more personal level of how good things happen to bad people, so why do bad things happen to me? why is life unfair to me, specifically?
though it isn't. i am blessed with many things. and i have things in my life that are truly a blessing, though sometimes they don't seem that way. but it's more a problem with my frame of mind then the justness of the fates.
still there are times where i wish things could be different. and there are certain points in my past where i know exactly what choice lead me down this path to where i am today. and i wonder and play "what if" and i regret.
because part of me wonders if there is more in the world than this. that maybe, had i done things differently, i could have been so much more, so much better, had a chance at a more wonderful life. that all of my wildest dreams could have been reality had i just said no where i said yes. that this present life didn't have to be the future of my past.
part of me worries, though, that this is all there is. that i am not great because i am not meant for greatness. that i should be happy with what i have, because this is all there is and it wouldn't have been better no matter how much i changed my past. that this is as good as i will ever be.
i know i should be thankful for all the good i have. and just because i am not satisfied does not mean the fates were cruel. i made the choices that got me here, i was not forced into this life. and if i can't accept that this is my reality, that this is the way things are, then it is not anyone's fault but my own for walking the path that brought me here. and honestly, it's not anyone else's problem either. i have no right to complain, and i can't expect a do-over, because i know the world doesn't work like that. this is my life, this is all i get, and i should try to make the best of it. and if i feel the need to blame someone, i should start by looking in the mirror.
August 5, 2012
August 4, 2012
R-E-S-P-E-C-T, find out what it means to me
everybody always told me that raising boys and girls would be different. but really, i never believed them. because they were also the people that really followed the gender lines hard and straight. i, on the other hand, was always fine if my boys wanted to have a tea party or if my girl wanted to play with monster trucks. if it's something that's safe and age appropriate, who is to say that it has to be only for boys or only for girls?
i hate how toys sections are divided up, with shelves in the "girl" section actually pink, filled with barbies and baby dolls and dress up clothes. i hate to say it, but my little fishie girl likes to play with all her brothers' old toys, "boy" toys, and i'm fine with it. she runs around the yard with them, using nerf guns to shoot monsters and aliens. they've helped set up their matchbox tracks and she likes to jump the cars with the best of them. and her dino roar is even better then bumble's. and on the other side of things, bumble has played with her baby dolls with her, showed her how to feed them with the plastic bottles and rock them to sleep.
i know i've said it before, but if playing makes a child happy, and it is safe and age appropriate, i don't care if it's something that comes in a pink or blue box. and it seems that a lot of people don't have a problem if it's girls playing with boy toys, somehow that's empowerment, but a boy playing with girl toys is strange and wrong.
double standards suck, and i hate that it's still part of the world my kids have to grow up in. i try to explain that just because somebody else says that it's wrong, it's not necessarily bad, and they shouldn't feel bad for their choices. i consider respect to be the most important quality to teach my kids, respect for themselves, respect for others, and especially respect for those that are different from them. i've already had a conversation with my boys about how sometimes people are different, they do different things and believe in different things, and respect doesn't mean changing our beliefs, but letting them believe what they want as long as they respect my boys also. and bumble, at least, has shown me that he gets it.
and i know there are those that don't agree with how i'm raising my kids. even people i know personally have told me that i'm making my boys "soft" by letting them play with the toys they want and the games they want. which makes me sad for my boys, because it's not fair to them. it's a fact that fish will have the freedom growing up to wear pants and play in the dirt like a boy, and most will think she's a tom-boy and leave it at that. but if my boys try to wear a skirt i know i would never hear the end of it.
i know i've gone off on a rant here. and it's not the first time i talked about gender roles and double standards on this blog. for fishie's first halloween, i dressed her as a dragon, because i have a thing for group costumes, and her brother's decided to be knights. you can read that post here. later, i was told i was it was wrong to dress her as a dragon, i should have dressed her as a princess because she is a girl. it makes me so sad to think that people think it's ok to say things like that to people. what right do they have to force their values on other people?
i know that not everybody agrees with me, and i don't expect them to. and if anyone has a problem with the things i say here, they need to understand that everything i write is my thoughts on my life, and it's my personal opinion. and they totally have the freedom to not read. i just really wish they would respect my right to raise my children in the way that i see fit.
i hate how toys sections are divided up, with shelves in the "girl" section actually pink, filled with barbies and baby dolls and dress up clothes. i hate to say it, but my little fishie girl likes to play with all her brothers' old toys, "boy" toys, and i'm fine with it. she runs around the yard with them, using nerf guns to shoot monsters and aliens. they've helped set up their matchbox tracks and she likes to jump the cars with the best of them. and her dino roar is even better then bumble's. and on the other side of things, bumble has played with her baby dolls with her, showed her how to feed them with the plastic bottles and rock them to sleep.
i know i've said it before, but if playing makes a child happy, and it is safe and age appropriate, i don't care if it's something that comes in a pink or blue box. and it seems that a lot of people don't have a problem if it's girls playing with boy toys, somehow that's empowerment, but a boy playing with girl toys is strange and wrong.
double standards suck, and i hate that it's still part of the world my kids have to grow up in. i try to explain that just because somebody else says that it's wrong, it's not necessarily bad, and they shouldn't feel bad for their choices. i consider respect to be the most important quality to teach my kids, respect for themselves, respect for others, and especially respect for those that are different from them. i've already had a conversation with my boys about how sometimes people are different, they do different things and believe in different things, and respect doesn't mean changing our beliefs, but letting them believe what they want as long as they respect my boys also. and bumble, at least, has shown me that he gets it.
and i know there are those that don't agree with how i'm raising my kids. even people i know personally have told me that i'm making my boys "soft" by letting them play with the toys they want and the games they want. which makes me sad for my boys, because it's not fair to them. it's a fact that fish will have the freedom growing up to wear pants and play in the dirt like a boy, and most will think she's a tom-boy and leave it at that. but if my boys try to wear a skirt i know i would never hear the end of it.
i know i've gone off on a rant here. and it's not the first time i talked about gender roles and double standards on this blog. for fishie's first halloween, i dressed her as a dragon, because i have a thing for group costumes, and her brother's decided to be knights. you can read that post here. later, i was told i was it was wrong to dress her as a dragon, i should have dressed her as a princess because she is a girl. it makes me so sad to think that people think it's ok to say things like that to people. what right do they have to force their values on other people?
i know that not everybody agrees with me, and i don't expect them to. and if anyone has a problem with the things i say here, they need to understand that everything i write is my thoughts on my life, and it's my personal opinion. and they totally have the freedom to not read. i just really wish they would respect my right to raise my children in the way that i see fit.
sticks and stone may break my bones....
...but words will scar and kill me.
and oh the words and thoughts that go flying around my head. things i've heard, that were actually said to me, in another place and time. though, truth be told, some were said in a much more recent time. i've tried to leave all those mean and evil people behind, but still, their words stuck. and through some wicked twist of fate, i can't remember names and historical date and grammar rules, but these things that have been said to me, these i can't forget:
i am stupid and lazy and ungrateful. i am worthless and hopeless and useless. i'll never be able to change, i'll always be this pathetic, this damaged. why try? i can't fight my inevitable failure. i am always the same, full of the same lame excuses, the same ineffective attempts at fixing things. i should really know my place and stick to it. and i should also know what my responsibilities are and try not to mess things up completely. or let everyone down, as usual. because don't i know how lucky i am to be in a place like this? don't i remember how it all began, how terrible it all was. how bleak. how dark. do i really want to go back there? don't i know how much worse it could be? then i better try harder at changing. and always remember to thank my lucky stars i'm not back there.
what's funny, in a dark sort of way, is that growing up i didn't realize how wrong it was to let people talk to me like that. when i was young, i knew all about physical and sexual abuse, how bad it was and what to do if it was happening to you. but back then, nobody ever told me there was such a thing as emotional abuse.
i thought, for a very long time, that certain mean people said stuff like that to everybody. i knew they were mean, but i thought that i just had too thin skin to let it all bother me so. the other not so funny part was that there were times where i was so desperate for attention and companionship, i willingly subjected myself to their attacks and abuse, just so i wouldn't have to be alone. and like someone who was physically abused and stays in that toxic relationship, part of me wondered if i didn't deserve it. if they weren't being mean, but actually kind, telling me the things i needed to hear so i could try and better myself.
it's kind of strange now, to think what i put myself through because of others. how everything could have been so much different if somebody had noticed what was going on and actually told me it didn't have to be like that. which is also why, i suppose, i worry so much about my own children. because i still remember the fine line between playful teasing and outright meanness. and i don't want them pushed across it. and i certainly don't want them doing the pushing.
**something i wrote a few months ago and never posted. it ties into the previous post**
and oh the words and thoughts that go flying around my head. things i've heard, that were actually said to me, in another place and time. though, truth be told, some were said in a much more recent time. i've tried to leave all those mean and evil people behind, but still, their words stuck. and through some wicked twist of fate, i can't remember names and historical date and grammar rules, but these things that have been said to me, these i can't forget:
i am stupid and lazy and ungrateful. i am worthless and hopeless and useless. i'll never be able to change, i'll always be this pathetic, this damaged. why try? i can't fight my inevitable failure. i am always the same, full of the same lame excuses, the same ineffective attempts at fixing things. i should really know my place and stick to it. and i should also know what my responsibilities are and try not to mess things up completely. or let everyone down, as usual. because don't i know how lucky i am to be in a place like this? don't i remember how it all began, how terrible it all was. how bleak. how dark. do i really want to go back there? don't i know how much worse it could be? then i better try harder at changing. and always remember to thank my lucky stars i'm not back there.
what's funny, in a dark sort of way, is that growing up i didn't realize how wrong it was to let people talk to me like that. when i was young, i knew all about physical and sexual abuse, how bad it was and what to do if it was happening to you. but back then, nobody ever told me there was such a thing as emotional abuse.
i thought, for a very long time, that certain mean people said stuff like that to everybody. i knew they were mean, but i thought that i just had too thin skin to let it all bother me so. the other not so funny part was that there were times where i was so desperate for attention and companionship, i willingly subjected myself to their attacks and abuse, just so i wouldn't have to be alone. and like someone who was physically abused and stays in that toxic relationship, part of me wondered if i didn't deserve it. if they weren't being mean, but actually kind, telling me the things i needed to hear so i could try and better myself.
it's kind of strange now, to think what i put myself through because of others. how everything could have been so much different if somebody had noticed what was going on and actually told me it didn't have to be like that. which is also why, i suppose, i worry so much about my own children. because i still remember the fine line between playful teasing and outright meanness. and i don't want them pushed across it. and i certainly don't want them doing the pushing.
**something i wrote a few months ago and never posted. it ties into the previous post**
the one thing i wish i knew when i was younger
when i was growing up, way back in the '90s, it was a big thing to talk to kids about being careful around strangers. stranger danger was super important, so i was careful to avoid shady older men at the mall who might have been following me (they never were), and random ice cream trucks that would show up in my neighborhood at 9pm (never happened either), and people at school who looked like they didn't belong (you had to drive to my school, so it was obvious if somebody didn't belong).
as i grew a bit older, around high school time, there were after school specials about the dangers of abusive relationships. i was told again and again how no one, no matter what, had the right to hit you or touch you in any way you didn't want to be touched. because physical abuse and sexual abuse is super bad and super serious.
one thing no one ever talked about when i was growing up was emotional abuse. seriously, i didn't even know that was a thing until after i was married. growing up i was so desperate for attention i surrounded myself with some really horrible people. no one ever laid a hand on me, but the things they said were awful.
it's not like i didn't say anything, in the beginning. but i don't think the grown ups around me really understood that it was abuse either, because all i used to hear was that it was just words and not a big deal. the mantra "sticks and stone may break my bones, but words will never hurt me," was something i was told more than once.
and i tried to find better people to hang around with. but when you're told constantly that you are worthless and useless and good for nothing, it's hard not to believe it. and when the people that tell you those things also tell you that you should be lucky and thankful that they actually want to be your friend because you're too pathetic to find anybody else, you kind of believe them too. and it just created a circle of abuse and horrible words.
now, there is a huge campaign against bullying in schools. there has been some light shead on the problem. about how dangerous words can be. about how constant taunting in schools is can be just as violent as being beat up. and how lasting the effect of hearing those hateful words can be. because seriously, some of those words stick with you forever.
even now, when things get dark, i hear those words from long ago circle around through my head. those dark whispers about how stupid and pathetic i am. how worthless i am, a waste of space. how i am nothing now and will never amount to anything in this life. how i drag down everyone around me, and i should thank my lucky stars people even want to associate with me. how it's a miracle i haven't ended it sooner, and really i should just grow up and get it all over with because what is the point of living if you're as lame as i am?
but they're just words, said by those that used to be closest to me, though they still sometimes get stuck on repeat in my head some days. and even growing up, part of me knew it wasn't right to stay with people who said such things to me, but there were times i was so lonely that i thought it was worth it to stay with them. because even though their speech was filled with hate, at least they never beat me, right?
as i grew a bit older, around high school time, there were after school specials about the dangers of abusive relationships. i was told again and again how no one, no matter what, had the right to hit you or touch you in any way you didn't want to be touched. because physical abuse and sexual abuse is super bad and super serious.
one thing no one ever talked about when i was growing up was emotional abuse. seriously, i didn't even know that was a thing until after i was married. growing up i was so desperate for attention i surrounded myself with some really horrible people. no one ever laid a hand on me, but the things they said were awful.
it's not like i didn't say anything, in the beginning. but i don't think the grown ups around me really understood that it was abuse either, because all i used to hear was that it was just words and not a big deal. the mantra "sticks and stone may break my bones, but words will never hurt me," was something i was told more than once.
and i tried to find better people to hang around with. but when you're told constantly that you are worthless and useless and good for nothing, it's hard not to believe it. and when the people that tell you those things also tell you that you should be lucky and thankful that they actually want to be your friend because you're too pathetic to find anybody else, you kind of believe them too. and it just created a circle of abuse and horrible words.
now, there is a huge campaign against bullying in schools. there has been some light shead on the problem. about how dangerous words can be. about how constant taunting in schools is can be just as violent as being beat up. and how lasting the effect of hearing those hateful words can be. because seriously, some of those words stick with you forever.
even now, when things get dark, i hear those words from long ago circle around through my head. those dark whispers about how stupid and pathetic i am. how worthless i am, a waste of space. how i am nothing now and will never amount to anything in this life. how i drag down everyone around me, and i should thank my lucky stars people even want to associate with me. how it's a miracle i haven't ended it sooner, and really i should just grow up and get it all over with because what is the point of living if you're as lame as i am?
but they're just words, said by those that used to be closest to me, though they still sometimes get stuck on repeat in my head some days. and even growing up, part of me knew it wasn't right to stay with people who said such things to me, but there were times i was so lonely that i thought it was worth it to stay with them. because even though their speech was filled with hate, at least they never beat me, right?
August 2, 2012
being nice
sometimes i think i am a horrible person. which is so random, because i really try to be nice to everybody. and even though i might not like everybody, i at least try to get to know them. i've been known to make excuses for people, forgiving their behavior, because i believe there is good in everyone.
and yet i think the worst thoughts about people. mean, awful, degrading things. rude and inappropriate comments, belittling statements, just outright horrible stuff.
but i don't say any of it out loud. and yet i feel bad about even thinking it. like the super nice people that i know are totally nice on the outside and the inside. and i, on the other hand, am a scumbag of a human, thinking such awful things about random people.
which really isn't so awful. because i'm pretty sure everybody thinks stuff they know they shouldn't say in polite society. and so they don't. because as grown up type people we don't have to say everything that comes to mind. it's what makes us civilized and mature.
still, i feel bad about how mean i can be. and from that i begin to think that there must be something wrong with me, because nice people don't have such awful thoughts. so maybe i'm not really the nice person i thought i was. maybe i'm a mean person, and everybody around me is too nice to say anything. and everybody just tolerates me because that's what nice people really do. and they all just feel bad for me, but still wish me well. and sometimes they shake their heads sadly at my downfall, because even though this is how i turned out, they still remember when i had such potential to be a wonderful human being and i've just gone and let them all down.
and yeah, i know that's not what's really going on, though sometimes a part of me thinks that it might be. that i am not nice enough or good enough, smart enough or cool enough, and the only reason people even talk to me is because of my dear husband. because if it wasn't for him, i'd be sad and pathetically all alone.
and yet i think the worst thoughts about people. mean, awful, degrading things. rude and inappropriate comments, belittling statements, just outright horrible stuff.
but i don't say any of it out loud. and yet i feel bad about even thinking it. like the super nice people that i know are totally nice on the outside and the inside. and i, on the other hand, am a scumbag of a human, thinking such awful things about random people.
which really isn't so awful. because i'm pretty sure everybody thinks stuff they know they shouldn't say in polite society. and so they don't. because as grown up type people we don't have to say everything that comes to mind. it's what makes us civilized and mature.
still, i feel bad about how mean i can be. and from that i begin to think that there must be something wrong with me, because nice people don't have such awful thoughts. so maybe i'm not really the nice person i thought i was. maybe i'm a mean person, and everybody around me is too nice to say anything. and everybody just tolerates me because that's what nice people really do. and they all just feel bad for me, but still wish me well. and sometimes they shake their heads sadly at my downfall, because even though this is how i turned out, they still remember when i had such potential to be a wonderful human being and i've just gone and let them all down.
and yeah, i know that's not what's really going on, though sometimes a part of me thinks that it might be. that i am not nice enough or good enough, smart enough or cool enough, and the only reason people even talk to me is because of my dear husband. because if it wasn't for him, i'd be sad and pathetically all alone.
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