Originally posted on Bitch Ph.D.

So here is the biggest, most annoying problem with having a feminist marriage:

No matter what you and your partner have agreed on, other people will cling to their antiquated notions.

It’s the biggest evidence to me that marriage is not just a
contract between two people; it’s also a kind of social contact (for
better or for worse). Like, if you and your partner decide to reverse
conventional gender roles–you work the day job, he stays home with
kids and kitchen–and you are perfectly happy with this arrangement
(ok, reasonably happy). Lovely! You win! You and your partner have done
all the hard work necessary in arriving at this decision, you have had
principled discussions about division of labor, you have made sure that
neither one of you is feeling coerced, that this is how you both want
it to be, blah blah blah and now you can sit back and enjoy your
domestic life. WRONG. Because now you have to deal with constantly
explaining to everyone around you that, “no, this really is what we both
want, no, I am not an emasculating bitch, actually this was his idea,
no really you can ask him, no, he isn’t doing it “for” me, no, we’re
not doing this to “prove” something, really, we are doing this because
it works for both of us, individually and as a couple.”

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Originally published on SoapboxMom

Have you heard John Mayer play the guitar? Better yet, have you been lucky enough to attend one of his concerts so that you could actually watch him play the guitar? Ahhh, grace in motion.

Before going to his concert this summer, I listened to his music, but didn’t truly appreciate it. I mean, it was nice to have playing in the background, nice to sing along with occasionally, but didn’t exactly make me sit down and breathe it in, you know what I mean?

Then I saw him perform live. Oh. my. goodness…

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Originally published at oh my seven.

I’ve
been thinking a lot about this subject lately… so many women have
issues with their bodies, myself included. And you girls all know all
the usual suspects… billboards, magazines, movies, television, romance
novels (would you really want a heaving bosom anyway? I don’t get
that.) and the like. I love this Dove commercial
that’s been floating around on YouTube, because it displays an
important truth: Advertisements lie to women. They say that you have to
be This Thin and have beautiful flowing hair and sultry, smoky eyes and
full, pouty lips and be a 32D… but most people don’t look like that!
It’s telling that models even have to be Photoshopped, because they’re
not good enough! Girls, why are we buying this lie? It sucks.

I read in a book recently that you can’t give what you don’t have.
We’re taught that loving ourselves is just vanity and pride, but can
you really love other people if you don’t know how to love yourself?
Even the Bible says, “Love your neighbor as yourself.” (Leviticus 19:18)
So if that’s the case, obviously we are to love ourselves. Otherwise
we’ll go around saying, “You’re fat, and you’re ugly, and whoa! Look at
that bird’s nest of hair. Looks like you could use a shower. You’re a
lazy bum, and you’ll never amount to anything. You can never do
anything right… you always just screw everything up.”

I want to kick that habit, so that someday when I have children,
they won’t grow up thinking poisonous thoughts about themselves that
will only cause them hurt and not growth.

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Originally published at Flutter – Dark and Divine

We are all set upon this earth with our own set challenges. Some of
us have it more difficult than others, some are blessed, some are
damned. Some are equal tinctures of both.

Some persevere and blossom, others flicker and fade. To which end,
is not predetermined, rather guided by the decisions we make. Every one
thing effects every one other. From the minute to the grand, our daily
pro and con list steers us in one direction or another. As fragrant
petals in a windstorm, yet guided by a hand of our making.

Our experiences are not always ours to control, but how we react to
them is. I have been mired in a sickly sweet cloud of terror for the
better part of 15 years. Until recently, there was a sense of continual
fleeing. A sense of having to watch over my shoulder, as I ran forward.
Fear, panic, fear, panic.

The truth? Until recently I thought it was all my fault.

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