Thursday, October 19, 2017

#Metoo: What it means and what we can do

Incredible to think that it took me until now to have all the words ready to comment on #metoo. The truth is, I don't think I will be able to. A series of words can't possibly express the emotions that are connected to potentially life-changing events. This issue certainly changed my life. And when I say change, I don't mean the good kind that is connected to progress. I would not have lived the life I did if I was a man and how could I ever find words to describe the scope of such an emotional and heartbreaking reality. It's like talking about love: most of us feel it but only in art we sometimes get to express it. Could a file or word describe life? In the end, what is a picture, a poem or a blog going to say to make us understand love? A life of discrimination and being and feeling blamed for the shortcomings of a man just feels... bad! And so I can say: #metoo.

I have never shut up about the sexual harassment I have experienced. It didn't take the campaign for me to talk about it. What's new is that I now realize that what I had intended to just be criticism that could make things better, I was very often vilified. Behind my back I also believe there is a lot of thinking along the lines of "well, you asked for it, didn't you?". Nobody needs to tell me that's not ok. I know men would think that because why not? No human being likes to be wrong and reflecting on whether who we are is who we should be is an ability I haven't seen in many human beings in my life. What's scarier to me is my own understanding that I need to please a man. That he is better than me. He can do some things that I can't. And yes, I got that bad even though my daily actions don't mirror this sentiment. And I am not one of those people that can't self-reflect. I know it's incorrect. But since I'm alone in my reflection I know this thinking is there with not just a few, but a lot of women.

Sexual harassment and assault comes from one individual feeling superior to another. Throw in a little bit of disrespect and it's almost impossible not to experience it, whether as a victim or perpetrator. If as a man you have the chance to undermine a woman, and you have that chance a lot, you do it because you will easily get away with it. The question is what "getting away with it" entails. And for the first instance that is not the police or the man's family and friends, it's his victim. How many women believe it's their fault? How many women are paralyzed with the certainty that none of their actions will make a difference at all because they never have? Whose fault is that? On this day, the perpetrator of a sexual crime gets away with it because an entire society has had his victim believe that there is nothing she can do about it. Not on the small, not on the large scale. I never agreed, beating almost every guy that ever groped me or disrespected me. And even I, a self-proclaimed fighter, have felt taken advantage of sooooo many times. All of those times, including right now, I feel like I can't do anything about it.

For me, #metoo is about something else. Next to the obvious benefit of pointing out how big of a problem this stuff is, I was hoping that it makes women wake up. We don't talk about it, even amongst each other. Of course I've been told to not take crap from guys but I do it every day. With a movement like this, maybe we can start with ourselves and, like, stop doing that. It has actually empowered me to change the course on one of my relationships with a man. One I care about, yet one that deeply disrespected me. Hearing Amanpour say I should stop excusing why a man treats me the way he does makes me see. Even out of genuine care, I want to at least call out how disrespected I feel. It shouldn't matter if I can understand it or not and frankly I shouldn't need to understand. We're all our own person and to have respect for each other is a basic miss we see everywhere. When it happens between a man and a woman though the scope is much higher, the hurt a little deeper and the work we need to do a little tougher.

So what is it that needs to happen? Jail more men? Send them on workshops? Change our TV programming? Yo, it's so much more basic than that. It starts with the victim: stop being silent. Then we go to the people who have done wrong (and that's all of us. All of us!): Reflect. Everyone can change and the version of you that exists now is NOT the best you can be. If you make a mistake, repent. Apologize. Be strong and don't run. Apologize for God's sake. Acknowledge you made a mistake, it happens. And then, just like in school, stop making the mistake. You only fell from your bike so many times before you learned how to ride it. Why would learning how to be a respectful human being be any different? In fact, it fucking shouldn't be. You don't have time to learn, you need to know that right away. But men already know it; they just need to stop getting away with breaking the rules. So as much as I'd like to say #metoo is about empowering women, it's also making their lack of being a bitch when one needs to be painfully obvious. While we're at it, stop calling people bitches. I'm a bitch and I like it. Bitch meaning I do not take crap. So far, in society that attitude was not very popular. I don't care how we get to a society that believes that's a good thing but we have to. Men and women...

Saturday, October 7, 2017

Age, age, age: Am I "Young", Young or Old?


I'm 28 years old. Some people say that's young, and I agree. It might not be as young as 27, nevermind 17, but it's still not old. If the word "young" would be an adjective people were able to disconnect from a numerical value, it would mean having opportunities, not yet being OK with being boring and waking up every day thinking "today could be different from yesterday". Only when that is gone, and the ability to do all these things with your original hip, you may accept defeat: you're old! Many people I know seem to want to get old, popping kids left, right and center. For some reason, the simple life sounds appealing to them. And yeah, not even eight months ago I thought that's what I want to. But now I know: I'm too "young" to be old!!!

There's a fundamental difference between being young, "young" and old. Our grandmas will probably call us young as long as they live, for the mere fact we are youngER! And would I, at 28, ever consider myself old? Of course not, I'm youngER than the majority of my country, in fact, the old people and their electoral behavior are ruining my future. But: I, like my old friends, can equally no longer do whatever I want. I have responsibility, a much slower metabolism, and grey hair. Like, really, I'm almost entirely grey which obviously will be hidden under a thick layer of bleach for another 28 years at least. I might not be old, but I am also no longer young. I am only "young", and whether I use the two fingers on both hands in the air connotating quotation marks now strongly depends on who I talk to, and what I want for the rest of my life.

My favorite song right now, "Younger" by Senabo, told me I'm not getting any younger. Mate, I know. My uterus is aging with every day I drink wine instead of going to the gym. If I want children, I'm getting older. If I want to spend a year backpacking, I'm running out of time. If I want to perfect a certain sport, I'm ancient. Fortunately for me, none of these desires are essential to my happiness so I'm hella young. This glass of wine I drink occasionally is the essence of my happiness and since I'm neither a mother nor broke nor a professional athlete I'm holding a set of cards that's going to make me win. Because all the things one needs to feel young are available to me and I have no ambition to trade them in anytime soon.

So now we have sufficiently talked about why I'm happy I'm young and refuse to be called anything else, it's time to look reality in the face. I'm slowly fading away and in another 28 years I'll be nearing retirement and will almost have outlived my father's age. So it would be foolish not to think about the things left to achieve because not all of them are feasible anymore. I'm way past my old idea of having four children - a desire I only had because I never met a child. I'm a little bit too old for my romantic decisions if I want to try commitment at some point. And this lifestyle of wining and dining won't prevent cancer forever so it's time to listen to my body and take it to the spa and not the steak restaurant. But OK, I suppose it would be a little too much to expect death to loom. The truth is that the drug-addict artists are probably right when they say a short, exciting life got more to offer than a long and boring life. I plan to be exciting for a very long time so that 30 looming is just not that scary.

However, I now live in a town where the hottest place on the weekend is the playground, even among 20-somethings because they're all goddamn parents. If all people around you do a certain thing, not doing it starts feeling weird. That "thing" being procreation. I'm not participating and I seem to be the only one which I'm cool with. Now. But what happens in ten years when I'm the only one left who does not have a family? I mean now, that's more normal than people my age having one already, but I can't get away with it forever. One day I won't be young and then, my mother thinks, I'll be alone. Maybe she's right. Its unlikely the absence of children will make me lonely but the absence of somebody else, anybody, doing the same, might. So even if I feel "young" at 70, I won't be. The balance between seeing the number and feeling it is a hard to get right, and I don't know how well I'm doing right now...