Sexism #3: Protagonism

Is that even a word?

Yes, it is.

protagonism:  the state, character, or activity of a protagonist.

What does this have to do with sexism and feminism?

 

Where we ("Western culture") are coming from

One of the fundamental beliefs of any patriarchal culture is that men are protagonists and women are auxiliary. In other words, men have lives and women (if they're lucky) have men who have lives. This used to be far more pronounced in Western culture than it is today. There were powerful stereotypes of women keeping homes for men and providing them with a safe and comfortable base while the men went out into the world and did things. And then came home to women who were there for them.

It sounds like a pretty sweet deal for the men, in my opinion. Granted, I'm sure there are some who would say that it was a sweet deal for the women, too, that women were "taken care of" under this system . 

This way of arranging things paired responsibility with power. Men were responsible for the people in their family/community, therefore, they had the power and called the shots. Women were not responsible and they did not have the power – they did what they were told or expected to do.

 

A Culture in Transition

Surely this is not what it's like anymore, right? I mean, feminism won, didn't it? And we're all equal now?

And yet, these unequal perceptions around who is a protagonist and who is not linger. They are obvious in our media, our politics, in the prevalence of rape and sexual violence and also in the day-to-day exchanges of many average and ordinary intimate relationships.

My personal experience

I'm a woman who grew up in the era of Free to Be... You and Me. This means that while I saw sexism all around me, I was simultaneously being indoctrinated in the belief that I could be anything I wanted to be. That I was "just as good as any man". I was taught to think of myself as a protagonist. I did not go to university to get my M.r.s. as many girls still joked back in 1990 (and perhaps still joke even to this day?). I went to get my B.A., dammit and I did. 

In my life, relationships have come and gone, while my sense of agency has only continued to grow. I was having a conversation with a friend a couple of months ago and she asked me what I wouldn't give up to be in a relationship. I knew the answer right away: my autonomy and my authenticity. If I have to give up either of those things, it's not worth it. I don't mind making compromises, but if someone wants me to adopt a position in which I have less than 50% of the power and responsibility in the relationship or less that 100% of my power and responsibility for myself (my choices, my circumstances, my thoughts, feelings and behaviour) – I'd rather be alone. 

(My friend's delightful answer to the same question was: yoga – which is also in my top 10, for sure).

Seems straightforward, and yet...

On one hand, it seems strange to me that there are people don't appear to believe that every individual is the protagonist of their own life, regardless of their sex (or race, gender, sexuality, age, ability, etc.). I mean, really? Isn't it just obviously true that every person is living a life that is theirs and that is just as valid and meaningful to them as my life is to me and yours is to you? 

But on the other hand, I have experienced the insidiousness of this bias that one's right to be a protagonist is relative to one's position on the hierarchies of our culture. Granted, due to intersectionality, this can be a complicated thing to figure out between race, sex, class, sexuality, etc.

But as a white woman who has had intimate relationships with white men, I have been shocked on several occasions in the past to find myself in an intimate relationship with a man who seemed to feel entitled to tell me what I thought, how I felt or how he wanted me to live my life. In a couple of instances, before I realized what was happening, I experienced some erosion of my sense of autonomy and authenticity.
 
I must admit that until recently, I didn't grasp that this was an outcropping of sexism.  On the outside, those men seemed like they held pretty good feminist/egalitarian ideals. So, I thought it was just a circumstantial thing. Something about them and something about me had combined to result in a blurriness around my autonomy and authenticity. 

What I now realize is that that "something" is actually part of a systemic problem arising from a culture that raises people to believe that men are protagonists and women are – not.  Women are left with the role of accessory (trophy wife), object (hottie, MILF, slut, whore, etc.), help-mate, second-in-command or junior partner (I well remember hurling that last phrase at a long-time lover in the final days of our relationship). 

Women who resist the subordinate role laid out for them are often labelled as bitches, harridans, nags, harpies, ungenerous, selfish, narcissistic, difficult, ball-breakers, control freaks, pains-in-the-tuckus, domineering, and on and on. 

This does not feel right or fair to me.

Can we change this?

I can see that we have already come a long way – and that we have further still to go.

It seems to me that, as a culture and as individuals, we have some work to do to get away from the victimhood and resentment stirred up by the loss of undeserved entitlement. And there is also work to do in clearing the barriers that make it difficult for women to claim their role as protagonists in their own lives.

Fortunately, there are women and men who are interested in trying to change this facet of our culture.

To me, this kind of change feels like it happens in an interrelated spiral between individuals and the culture at large. For every individual who rethinks their position and makes an effort to change the way they behave in the world, the culture changes, while every change in the culture opens up a door for more people to rethink their position and further change the culture. 

This feels hopeful to me because I believe that individual change is always possible. It is a simple (though also demanding) process of self-examination, honesty, decision-making and practice. And while many people will not go out of their way to change an unfair system – especially if it benefits them – some will.

If you are one of these people and you're a man, you can ask yourself: "To what do I feel entitled? And why?" If your entitlement includes having women in your life organize or reorganize their lives around you and your needs, it's time to ask, "Is that fair? Why do I feel entitled to that? Can I change that about myself?" 

If you are one of these people and you're a women, you can ask yourself: "Do I feel like someone else is entitled to tell me how to live, how to think or how to feel?" If so, it's time to ask "Is that fair? Why don't I feel entitled to decide those things for myself? Can I change that about myself?"

 

I think we can spiral this thing up. Let's get to it!

*****

PS: I've recently read a couple of great blog posts on this topic that I would like to share with you.
Your Princess is in another castle

Ben Pobjie's Wonderful World Of Objects: How YOU Doin'?

And on the other side of the issue, this rant about the agony of lost entitlement might clarify things for you if you're not even sure what I'm talking about, or if you don't think this is an issue worthy of a blog post.

Experience the freedom!

Do you get these too? I rarely go more than a month without receiving one of these come-ons:

I am already responsible for an insane amount of personal debt. In addition to my line of credit, I have three credit cards. Most of the time, I don't carry a balance on my credit cards from month-to-month. I try to be a credit card "freeloader" as much of the time as I can be. But, as a freelancer, I have been known to live off my credit cards during a lean month (or two, or sometimes – gulp! – three).

Despite the fact that my wonderful local personal banker is supporting me in my goal to reduce my ability to borrow on my line of credit by $5,000 a year, the folks at banking HQ would be "happy to help" me take on the option of more credit. 

Treat yourself!

Take that trip! 

Relax!

Experience the freedom – yes the freedom of crippling debt with interest payments that make it ever harder to get back into the black. 

I've been experiencing that freedom for years. It sucks.

But you've worked soooooooo hard!

I bet they have people with psychology degrees holed up at the bank writing these letters. You've worked hard to maintain an excellent credit history. Pat yourself on the back, kid, and show us what you can do with several thousand more dollars of rope with which to hang yourself!

I tell you, I'd have been working a lot harder if I'd simply managed my money properly in the first place. If only I'd used my brain and a little common sense. For instance, if I'd never spent the HST I had collected and then scrambled after it three months later when it was time to remit. Or if I'd put a little something aside during the lush months for the coming lean months and the inevitability of income taxes. 

The party is over; a better party is just beginning

I think I may have found my answer. I read a great article in the Montreal Gazette a couple of weeks ago about a person who lived in Montreal on $11,000 last year. It's an inspiring story about co-operative living and alternative economic models. 

And careful money management. 

The article mentioned something called YNAB (You Need A Budget). I thought, that sounds like me. I need a budget.

I've been checking YNAB out and I love it! It's software with a phone app that lets me track what I spend, anywhere, anytime, so I actually know both what's in my budget and what's in my bank account. This may shock some people, but it is novel for me to know how much money I have. And really novel for me to try to hold a conscious awareness of how much of my money is truly available to spend – when a lot of it is really owed to of all the infrequent expenses that keep mounting in the background (taxes, bills that get autopaid by my credit card, etc., etc.)  Before, I was blithely spending the money I appeared to have – and not really caring because I knew I had the cushion of credit whenever I screwed up and overspent (which was often). Wotthehell, I thought, I'll pay it back later. Un-hunh, with interest.

YNAB is good software, but as they say themselves: "It's not just software, it's a mission." What I really find YNAB good at is training (i.e. re-training) the way I look at money. They offer 4 simple rules to follow. There are webinars about how to apply the rules – about how exactly to get out of existing debt and how to handle the dramatic ebbs and flows of freelance income. I feel like it was made for me. It guess it was. It was made for people just like me. People who need a budget.

The whole point of YNAB is to have money saved up for needs and emergencies so that I'll eventually be spending only money I have instead of continually dipping into the poisoned credit candy dish. It's going to take a little time and a little (unaccustomed) restraint, but with a good tool on my side, I'm looking forward to experiencing the freedom – of living within my means.

Banjoy Break: Kermit was one of my early banjoy heroes

Sometimes I forget about Kermit's contribution to my love of banjo music.

I would have been nine years old when this episode aired. I'm pretty certain I would have seen it that night – we rarely missed an episode of The Muppet Show:

Fear or Love? (A Tiny Home Dilemma)

I don't know if you've already seen this amazing convocation speech that Jim Carrey made at Maharishi University. I know it's been making the rounds on the interwebs.

Here's the clip that's inspiring today's blog post:

I saw this for the first time a few months ago and I'm slowly realizing that this clip sums up the dilemma with which I've been grappling over the past several months.

If you've been reading my blog over the past year or so, you'll know that I bought a Tiny Home in December 2013. I set it up on some friends' land last spring and lived in it through the summer. Then, as winter approached, I realized that winterizing it was going to be a pretty big task. I had gotten depressed and all of the things I needed to do felt like too much work. I could barely put one foot in front of the other, let alone figure out and manifest all the things I needed to make my house work over the winter. The prospect of living in a draughty, small, thin-shelled structure for the winter felt out-of-control, risky and unsafe.

Running scared

So, I decided to abandon my tiny house for the winter. I found a house that I could rent – a place with central heating, electricity and running water. And I set myself the task of deciding what I wanted to do about my living arrangements going forward.

I was full of doubts – I doubted that I could handle the challenges of Tiny, (semi) off-grid Living; I doubted that I was living in the right place. Part of me wanted to bug out, move to Montreal, Ireland, South America – to get away from everything. I batted around a half-a-dozen locations and ideas. Everywhere from West Dublin to Québec City to Galway to Buenos Aires.

I weighed many pros and cons.

Fear had me in its clutches. Every option I considered felt scary, unsatisfactory and just plain wrong.

Embracing love

While some of my fear is perfectly rational, the worst of it was probably a by-product of my depression. When we feel like we are all alone in the darkness, of course we are afraid. Nothing feels possible – to stay, to go, there is no good option.

Finally, I am coming out of my depression and starting to feel more like myself. Love is starting to raise her voice again. I love my friends and my community on the west bank of the LaHave. I love the beaches, the quiet, the sky. I love my house. It is adorable! Every time I go to check on it, it glows its warm heart at me. It hugs me. I feel absolutely at home.

As usual, it's not Either/Or – it's Both

I'm still scared. I'm not a particularly handy person nor, frankly, am I that interested in becoming one. This is a hard challenge to take on as a single person. I need help, and asking for help is not always my forte. And, at the same time, I want to embrace this challenge and see if I can make it work. I want to engage in the experiment of winterizing my home and living in it through an entire year.

I don't know exactly how I'm going to acheive this. I have some ideas. More will come to me. But I don't know if I will succeed. Maybe it will work for me and maybe it will not. Time will reveal the answers, but only if I try. If I don't try, I will never know.

And while fear is still a factor, I know that this decision is being made from a place of love.

PS: Jim Carey's convocation speach is worth watching in its entirety.

The funniest thing, EVER!

A friend sent me a link to a piece of art this week (art created by a friend of that friend) and asked me to vote for it in one of those ubiquitous online contests.

Given the type of person I am, I'm sure I would have voted anyway, but on top of my always-happy-to-help-a-friend-(or-friend-of-a-friend)-attitude, this art genuinely delights me.

What does this piece of art make you think of:

Bruce is frustrated by Vivian's indifference to housework by Danielle Cole
http://www.arthere.ca/bruce-frustrated-vivians-indifference-housework
YOU CAN VOTE FOR IT HERE: http://www.arthere.ca/vote

 

 

 

Personally, it reminds me of the biggest laugh I have ever laughed.

I like to laugh. I laugh a lot.

And there is one laugh that tops all others. I laughed myself into helplessness – barely breathing, absolutely overcome by delight.

Why?

Two words.

Dinosaur Porn.

Just typing those words right now has set me off into a fit of giggles echoing the original debilitating fit of laughter that took me over when I first heard about dinosaur porn. (Yes, it's a thing, look here if you need proof.)

How it all happened

I was having an ordinary conversation with my l.a.t.t. (lover at the time) and he mentioned to me that he had seen a link on the Internet about dinosaur porn. I chuckled a little at the idea. Heck, dinosaur porn, whatever, takes all kinds.

I assumed it was dinosaur-on-dinosaur. I mean, who would dinosaurs find sexy, right?

And then, my l.a.t.t. specified that it was dinosaur-on-GIRL.

And I lost it.

Why are impossible real things way funnier to me than (theoretically) possible imaginary things?

I don't know why Dinosaur-on-girl porn is the funniest thing I've ever heard.

I don't usually find porn funny at all. I'm not a big fan of porn as a cultural product. I lost a long-ago lover to porn addiction (among other things) and porn and I have been sworn enemies ever since.

But I find the concept of dinosaur porn hilarious. I find it way funnier than vampire porn or weretiger porn (weretiger porn is also a thing, look here). It has something to do with the implausibility of dinosaurs finding humans attractive. But it has way more to do with the fact that humans and dinosaurs were never both alive at the same time on this planet.

The equation runs something like this:

human + radically mismatched other species + temporal impossibility + sex + commodification = hilarious to my brain

HILARIOUS.

So, go vote for Danielle's art. Help an artist out. Because that's a friendly to do. And because the art is cool. And because it has a great title. And also because my brain thinks dinosaur porn is funny.

One last time, here's the link. Simply click, scroll to the dinosaur with the vacuum cleaner and the co-ed in the sweater – and vote.

Menopause and Euphoria

No one ever told me it would be like this. 

I started experiencing peri-menopausal symptoms in November 2012. I missed a period and had a bunch of hot flashes. I asked my doctor and she said that I should take a pregnancy test and if I wasn't pregnant, I was probably going into menopause.

She was very nonchalant, which was fine by me. I don't want my doctor going all hysterical on me just because I'm entering an inevitable next stage of my life.

Anyway, I wasn't pregnant, so it seemed likely that I was entering into The Change. I was 41, which is a little early, but still considered "within the 'normal' age range".

The Mythology of the DREADED change

I had heard a lot of things about menopause before I arrived here. I think many women do. I have witnessed some other women's experiences with Hormone Replacement Therapy and menopause-related emotional meltdowns. I have seen menopause be a mostly empowering experience for some women and a mostly disempowering experience for others.

Certainly, there are generational factors at play. Many women have pioneered greater openness and empowerment for women coming after them. I remember having tea with my grandmother and a dear friend of hers about twenty years ago. My grandmother's friend fanned herself enthusiastically during a hot flash and said to me, "I'm doing this, Alex, so that when you get here, you can fan yourself without feeling embarrassed." I do, and I always think of her.

The Reality

There have been some harsh things about menopause for me. My periods, which were pretty easy when I was a young woman, have been getting progressively worse since I hit 35 or so. At this point, they are way too many days of agony and ibuprophen. And my PMS is bad. Some days I feel so cranky and crazy that I prefer not to be in contact with other human beings. When I am, I try to stay conscious and not get too mean. But it's not always easy.

The Secret Awesomeness

The first time it happened, I was taken by surprise.

I experienced a couple of days of absolute euphoria.

I mean, high-as-a-kite, grinning-like-a-hyena euphoria.

Everything felt awesome, delightful, blissful.

Being someone who hasn't experimented with drug use or long-distance running, I couldn't remember ever having felt like that before. But it's what I can imagine a really good high might feel like and it gives me some insight into why people might chase that experience.

When it first happened, I didn't know what was going on. I mean, I often feel happy, but not like that. I began to wonder if it might be a menopause thing.

I googled and found this blog post from Barbara Younger, along with some other accounts of menopausal euphoria. I also read the Wikipedia article about euphoria, and saw how heavily pathologized it is in Western medicine.

Personally, I look at it as a gift. It's been happening to me a couple of times a year for a couple of days at a time. While euphoric spells are not a good time to make major life decisions, they are an excellent time to let go and be. Enjoy the ride, some hormonal compensation for all of the crankiness and misery.

Euphoria and depression

I've been struggling with depression for quite a few months now and last week, just in the middle of wondering if I was ever going to stop feeling depressed, I hit a bout of euphoria. Suddenly, I felt wonderful. Nothing had changed in my external world, but my brain chemistry had suddenly shifted and everything felt different.

It had the effect of hitting the reset button, reminding me that so much of our experience is due to our brain state. I followed that euphoric spell with two days of listening to inspirational TED Talks, like this one. I could feel my neurons firing as I learned and digested new information about the world. I've begun to feel better. I'm smiling more often and feeling better about myself.

Knowing the relapsing-remitting nature of the depression I've experienced so far, I'm probably not out of the woods yet. However, I am feeling more connected to the present moment and more skeptical about my brain states. There is difficult and there is easy and there is everything in between. And really, nothing is very different from anything else, but for the meaning we grant it in the present moment.

Thanks, Menopause. I needed that.

Editor's note: technically, in many places where I wrote "menopause" above, I should have written "peri-menopause", but that just sounds too pedantic. I'm sure you knew what I meant.

Depression Part 4: Waking Up Tired

A couple of months ago, I thought I was through with being depressed. I was taking good care of myself and feeling brighter.

Sadly, it is not that easy. The holidays are usually an unpleasant time for me, so I was not too surprised that I got a little down in December. But things usually improve for me after Janaury 1st. Not this year though. This January has been atypically rough.

I'm still taking good care of myself. I've been doing a food experiment (which I'll probably write about when it's complete) which has meant no wheat, corn, soy, dairy or alcohol and limited sugar. This means that I have been eating lots of healthy, unprocessed food. And I've been doing yoga almost daily and loving it.

Weepy and Sleepy

And, I'm still depressed. Weepy and sleepy, I would describe myself. I long to go to bed each day. I've been packing in the day by 8pm, sleeping for 10 hours and not wanting to get out of bed when I do wake up. Even though I'm getting more sleep that I usually get, ever, I've been waking up tired.  Some mornings, I would even say exhausted. And my mood is low. Very low. Extremely low. A mix of hopelessness, disappointment and diffuse rage.

That is absolutely not like me. I'm a morning person. To the extreme. I usually travel from zero to sixty in zero seconds flat. I wake up in fifth gear, raring to go. Bright and cheerful, a regular Little Merry Sunshine.

Disconnection

The funny thing is that my rational mind is mostly okay. I know that things are just fine in my life. I have food, shelter, loving friends and family, enjoyable work, interesting artistic projects.

Before now, I've heard and read many accounts of the disconnect between one's rational thoughts and one's mood that can happen during a major depression, but this is really the first time I have experienced it.

I see the difficulty that I might be facing in getting out of this place. If my rational mind is disconnected from my emotional state, how do I reason and talk myself out of here?

What now?

I have some hope that my upcoming busy work season will help lift me out of this state. That the endorphins inspired by pleasurable work will jumpstart my system. And I have some other things I'm planning to try – focused around managing my peri-menopausal hormonal fluctuations, which I'm sure are contributing to my depressive symptoms.

The things I'm doing and planning to do might help and they might not. 

I've set a deadline for myself. If the things I'm trying haven't made a significant difference by April 30, I step the interventions up a notch.

Wish me luck, please.