Hello all!
Unsurprisingly, I'm writing about gender and sexuality issues, yet again. I usually seem to write when I'm angry and damnit, I'm angry again. Angry that another transgender youth has taken their life because their parents decided they loved religious doctrine more than they loved their child. Would the parent see it that way? No, of course not. They see it as the ultimate act of love, to 'fix' their broken child. A child that the church has told them is an abomination. Well, guess what?
YOUR CHILD ISN'T BROKEN!
I'm angry because things like this cause me to question my faith. I spent a large part of my late teens/early twenties doing that. I thought I was finished, that I had found my faith path and could follow it eagerly. But now, I tread more gingerly. I'm hesitant, because I see a faith filled with too much hate and people following rules that existed in a culture far removed from our own. Rules that they pick and choose from which to follow. They say that God says homosexuality is an abomination while eating shrimp, getting tattoos, and wearing clothing of mixed fiber (which God also said was an abomination).
I see people rejecting science because it simply doesn't match up with what their preacher told them. Despite all the evidence that exists they refer to a 2000 year old book on how life should be.
Science makes it all very simple, as far as I can tell. To me, it's simple logic. These same people can accept those born with down syndrome, or autism, or any number of things that change a human brain from being 'typical'. But they can't accept the idea that a male can be born with a female brain and vice versa? Science has proven that male and female brains work, look and behave very differently. Here is a good article from WebMD on the subject.
http://www.webmd.com/balance/features/how-male-female-brains-differ
When seen through ultrasound and other testing apparatus, male and female brains react differently to stimuli. They are made up of different proportions of gray matter and white matter. This isn't coincidence. I would love to see a study done on the brains of male and female transgender persons. I would not be at all surprised to see that a man who wishes to transition to a woman has a brain that appears more as a female brain, and the same for a woman who feels that they are male. When you can accept other things that happen to change the brain and body in utero, why can't you accept that these same mechanisms can cause homosexuality and gender identity issues?
I'm tired of hearing how parents reject their children and cause those children such unimaginable pain and confusion that that child sees the only way to get away from that is to kill themselves. NO child should have to go through that.
I'm very vocal, when out in the world. When I was Christmas shopping and looking at puzzle glue for Lilli a woman commented to me that I'd be better off going to Hobby Lobby and buying modpodge cause it worked better. I told her I don't shop at Hobby Lobby because I don't agree with their principles. When a nurse commented about her nephew liking theater and musicals but then said, "He's not gay, there's nothing wrong with him," I'm pointedly told her that if my son were gay I wouldn't see it as something being wrong with him.
When are our youth, the future of our world, going to stop being pushed into little boxes that stunt who they are and what they can accomplish?
If my son ever comes to me and tells me he's transgender then I'll take him to the store and buy him a dress and heels and makeup. I'll teach him how to put it on and how to do his hair. I'll let him change his name and tell his sisters that they have another sister. I love the little boy that he is now and I'll love him, encourage him and teach him whether he remains a boy or becomes a girl. The same with any of my children.
And I will continue to be vocal about tolerance, acceptance, and equality. I'll continue to speak out against injustice when I see it. Will I ever make a difference? I don't know. But I know that I never will if I just stand by and let these sorts of things happen without saying something. I hope I made that nurse think that day. I hope that woman in walmart maybe thinks twice before she shops at Hobby Lobby again.
But I WILL NOT stay quiet. Leelah needs us to not stay quiet. Kids that take their lives because of bullying need us to not stay quiet. Special needs kids need us to not stay quiet. So damnit, DON'T STAY QUIET! Shout and scream and kick up a fuss. Let them know we're angry.
BECAUSE WE ARE!!!!
Wednesday, December 31, 2014
Friday, November 14, 2014
It's NEVER OK!
Hi all!
I know it's been a while since I've written but I read something this morning that just really ticked me off and I had to write about it. One of my friends either shared or liked a post that led to a blog post about a child with Down's syndrome. Now, anyone who knows me knows that I have a brother who is severely mentally disabled. I grew up around other disabled kids due to various programs my brother was involved in. I remember going to a group he attended at a local catholic church. I really enjoyed interacting with those kids and I believe that doing so at a young age helped make me a more compassionate and understanding person where people with disabilities are concerned.
This particular blog post was about a horrid, ignorant comment made to a mother with a Down's syndrome 2 year old by a grocery store cashier. The comment is as follows...
“I bet you wish you had known before he came out. You know they have a test for that now…”
WTF!? When is it OK, ever, to say something like that to someone? I mean, really? It's NEVER OK! EVER!!!!
The mother handled it far better than I would have. I would have been livid to the point of tears had it been my child. I would have asked to see the manager after telling the employee what a brainless buffoon they were and would have made sure to let the manager know how ignorant and offensive she was to a customer with a special needs child. Here is a link to the original blogger. Take time to stop by her page and tell her how awesome she is.
http://chroniclesofmommy.wordpress.com/2014/10/05/sometimes-i-forget/
I follow many blogs and Facebook pages in the Autism community and hear about all kinds of ignorance that special needs families have to face daily. One woman, who has a son with autism and some other co-morbid disorders has a service dog for her son to help with his meltdowns from sensory overload and also to alert them if he chokes because he has a swallowing disorder. The ignorance and stupidity she deals with when out in public with her son and service dog is astounding. Since when did people lose all respect for others personal space, privacy and lives? When we did stop treating each other like human beings?
Since learning about the functions of service dogs I am very vigilant with my kids when we see someone out and about with one. If they ask to pet the dog I tell them no, the dog is working. You can only pet a service dog if the owner offers first. It's important to let a service dog focus on it's job, for it is a very important one. Once we saw one in the library and the lady overheard me telling the kids this, but she turned out to be a hospital worker who takes this trained service dog to visit patients in hospitals. So she happily let the kids and myself pet the animal. But I made sure to let the kids know that this was not the usual way to be around a service animal, because at that time, the animal wasn't working.
It makes me sad when I see people out who have visible disabilities such as Down's or someone with more severe autism and I smile at them and try to engage but the parent or caregiver doesn't give me the chance to and sort of steers them away from me. It makes me sad because it's the ignorance they face on a day to day basis that causes them to do this to protect their child. So then that child doesn't get to interact with and be treated with respect by those of us who really are only interested in putting a smile on a child's face, ANY child.
I'm just so fed up of ignorance. Of people whose stupidity is so great that garbage falls out every time they open their mouths. When I was little we were taught to be respectful of others. My husband and I teach our children the same. But this whole society seems to be going down the toilet. People just don't care about each other anymore. An ever shrinking minority do, but too many people are the vocal, rude and judgmental sort. And I'm just tired of them.
In the famous words of Rodney King (albeit a condensed catchphrase from his original quote)
"Can't we all just get along?"
Sigh...thanks for reading.
Dawn
I know it's been a while since I've written but I read something this morning that just really ticked me off and I had to write about it. One of my friends either shared or liked a post that led to a blog post about a child with Down's syndrome. Now, anyone who knows me knows that I have a brother who is severely mentally disabled. I grew up around other disabled kids due to various programs my brother was involved in. I remember going to a group he attended at a local catholic church. I really enjoyed interacting with those kids and I believe that doing so at a young age helped make me a more compassionate and understanding person where people with disabilities are concerned.
This particular blog post was about a horrid, ignorant comment made to a mother with a Down's syndrome 2 year old by a grocery store cashier. The comment is as follows...
“I bet you wish you had known before he came out. You know they have a test for that now…”
WTF!? When is it OK, ever, to say something like that to someone? I mean, really? It's NEVER OK! EVER!!!!
The mother handled it far better than I would have. I would have been livid to the point of tears had it been my child. I would have asked to see the manager after telling the employee what a brainless buffoon they were and would have made sure to let the manager know how ignorant and offensive she was to a customer with a special needs child. Here is a link to the original blogger. Take time to stop by her page and tell her how awesome she is.
http://chroniclesofmommy.wordpress.com/2014/10/05/sometimes-i-forget/
I follow many blogs and Facebook pages in the Autism community and hear about all kinds of ignorance that special needs families have to face daily. One woman, who has a son with autism and some other co-morbid disorders has a service dog for her son to help with his meltdowns from sensory overload and also to alert them if he chokes because he has a swallowing disorder. The ignorance and stupidity she deals with when out in public with her son and service dog is astounding. Since when did people lose all respect for others personal space, privacy and lives? When we did stop treating each other like human beings?
Since learning about the functions of service dogs I am very vigilant with my kids when we see someone out and about with one. If they ask to pet the dog I tell them no, the dog is working. You can only pet a service dog if the owner offers first. It's important to let a service dog focus on it's job, for it is a very important one. Once we saw one in the library and the lady overheard me telling the kids this, but she turned out to be a hospital worker who takes this trained service dog to visit patients in hospitals. So she happily let the kids and myself pet the animal. But I made sure to let the kids know that this was not the usual way to be around a service animal, because at that time, the animal wasn't working.
It makes me sad when I see people out who have visible disabilities such as Down's or someone with more severe autism and I smile at them and try to engage but the parent or caregiver doesn't give me the chance to and sort of steers them away from me. It makes me sad because it's the ignorance they face on a day to day basis that causes them to do this to protect their child. So then that child doesn't get to interact with and be treated with respect by those of us who really are only interested in putting a smile on a child's face, ANY child.
I'm just so fed up of ignorance. Of people whose stupidity is so great that garbage falls out every time they open their mouths. When I was little we were taught to be respectful of others. My husband and I teach our children the same. But this whole society seems to be going down the toilet. People just don't care about each other anymore. An ever shrinking minority do, but too many people are the vocal, rude and judgmental sort. And I'm just tired of them.
In the famous words of Rodney King (albeit a condensed catchphrase from his original quote)
"Can't we all just get along?"
Sigh...thanks for reading.
Dawn
Tuesday, August 26, 2014
What defines marriage?
Hello faithful readers!
I've been thinking a lot about what defines marriage. I think it's on a lot of people's minds these days given the debate over same sex marriage. People who oppose same sex marriage strive to convince us that it undermines "traditional" marriage. But what, exactly, is traditional marriage?
Marriage traditions mean many different things to different people and cultures. This idea of "traditional marriage" is a fairly new one. Marriage has been around a very long time, right back to pair bonding in the stone age. Native Americans practiced it but in very different ways to us. Here is a link to a fantastic article on native American marriage traditions.
http://nativeamericannetroots.net/diary/1084
I found it fascinating in that marriage was kept separate from civil and religious concerns. In the many different types of marriages practiced by native cultures, it was between the people involved and no-one else. Women and men had equal say in who they married. If two people wanted to separate, then they did. Since the whole tribe helped in the rearing of youngsters, such separation of partners didn't seem to have adverse effects on the children.
It's the involvement of government and religion in marriage which forces it to have any definition all. In our country and many others there are civil benefits to being married. Tax breaks and the like. Spouses are given the power the make medical decisions for you, etc. Religion merely brings a ceremony, a solemn occasion in which two people are joined. It isn't even necessary in the context of a civil marriage. So long as you have a legal marriage license, you're married.
Americans like to talk a big talk about having rights, but yet consistently deny rights to others they deem different. Marriage isn't exclusive to the bible or any religious text. So why be so hell bent on preserving a narrow religious definition of marriage?
Maybe the solution would be to take government out of marriage entirely? No? I bet people wouldn't like that, including the same ones who. claim to want less less government in our lives.
My point is, don't be blinded by what defines marriage for two individuals. What it really comes down to is that everyone deserves to be treated equally. We expect to be and so should they. What does marriage mean to you?
I've been thinking a lot about what defines marriage. I think it's on a lot of people's minds these days given the debate over same sex marriage. People who oppose same sex marriage strive to convince us that it undermines "traditional" marriage. But what, exactly, is traditional marriage?
Marriage traditions mean many different things to different people and cultures. This idea of "traditional marriage" is a fairly new one. Marriage has been around a very long time, right back to pair bonding in the stone age. Native Americans practiced it but in very different ways to us. Here is a link to a fantastic article on native American marriage traditions.
http://nativeamericannetroots.net/diary/1084
I found it fascinating in that marriage was kept separate from civil and religious concerns. In the many different types of marriages practiced by native cultures, it was between the people involved and no-one else. Women and men had equal say in who they married. If two people wanted to separate, then they did. Since the whole tribe helped in the rearing of youngsters, such separation of partners didn't seem to have adverse effects on the children.
It's the involvement of government and religion in marriage which forces it to have any definition all. In our country and many others there are civil benefits to being married. Tax breaks and the like. Spouses are given the power the make medical decisions for you, etc. Religion merely brings a ceremony, a solemn occasion in which two people are joined. It isn't even necessary in the context of a civil marriage. So long as you have a legal marriage license, you're married.
Americans like to talk a big talk about having rights, but yet consistently deny rights to others they deem different. Marriage isn't exclusive to the bible or any religious text. So why be so hell bent on preserving a narrow religious definition of marriage?
Maybe the solution would be to take government out of marriage entirely? No? I bet people wouldn't like that, including the same ones who. claim to want less less government in our lives.
My point is, don't be blinded by what defines marriage for two individuals. What it really comes down to is that everyone deserves to be treated equally. We expect to be and so should they. What does marriage mean to you?
Tuesday, August 19, 2014
Why we hurt...
Hello faithful readers!
Those of you who follow me on Facebook probably saw my post yesterday. I was angry and a little hurt by a family member who ended up unfriending me because she found me 'annoying'. Mainly she didn't like that I disagreed with her about something. (The ALS Icebucket challenge) My comments were light-hearted and teasing but when she basically alluded to the fact that she found me dumb for finding something funny I defended myself. Like I said in a post a while back, I won't lay down and take people's crap. If you attack me, I'll defend myself, period. That's when she got mad and sent me a private message telling me how annoying I was and no wonder her younger sister had deleted me too.
I enlightened her to the fact that her sister hadn't deleted me, I'd deleted her. Because I was attacked on her page as well, for giving well meaning advice that she didn't like the sound of. When one asks for advice in a public forum, you may well get advice you don't like. There is never any reason to mean or rude, you can simply thank the person and move on, or tell them that the advice won't work for you, sorry. At least that's how I'd handle it, since I was raised to have manners.
I hold no illusions that this girl cares anything about me. She's probably glad I won't be popping up in her newsfeed anymore, though I do hope her oldest sister remains my friend, I have no issues with her whatsoever, but I know that sometimes a spat with one family member can have repercussions on other relationships as well.
I'm not naive enough to believe that everyone will share the same views as me, and I'm okay with that too. If you are polite and respectful to me, then I will show you that same courtesy. It's pretty simple and I'm probably one of the easiest people on the planet to get a long with. I can usually find something I like or some redeeming quality in everyone.
I had a chat via text with another family member last night that did indeed leave me feeling better about the incident. Family is important to me, and I've used Facebook as a tool to reconnect with family I didn't feel close to when I was younger and painfully shy. I guess I'm idealistic and optimistic, in thinking that everyone would be as happy to reconnect with me as I was with them. Also a little naive I suppose. I haven't lived in Pennsylvania for nearly 13 years. People grow up, change, have their lives happen to them.
But I got to thinking last night about why two young women would be so angry and bitter all the time. It was highly obvious in most of the memes and things that they posted on Facebook. Most of which I just ignored because I didn't want to perpetuate and approve of drama.
These young ladies can't have had an easy life. Some of it we have in common, having parents that are alcoholics. Their Mom was always very good to me, but is an abrasive woman, who carries around her own fair share of anger at the hands life has dealt to her. People whose lives have been filled with so much hurt and abuse tend to hurt and abuse others without any thought as to the consequences of their actions. It's sad really. Idealist people like me try to see the good in everyone, but there comes a time when you can only take so much and you just have to sever ties and move on. And trust me, that doesn't take me as long to do as it used to. I used to take it, and take it and take it from people before I got fed up and moved on. Now, I do it a whole lot quicker. There is no reason to cause myself anguish over someone who can't see past their own hurt and anger and who lashes out at other people with only the slightest of provocation.
I know not everyone I come across in life will like me. I like to think I'm a pretty likable person, but some people seem to take issue with me and that's ok. I try to quickly identify those and get them out of my life or get out of their life before problems come up. But again, with family, I tried a little harder to make it work. Because I've always believed that your family should have your back and you should have theirs. Well, let me tell you, LESSON LEARNED! It's not always the case and it's one thing that I'm going to try and watch for in the future.
I'm what my friend Alison calls a 'feeler'. I feel emotions and things strongly and can be easily hurt. I don't have a thick skin and in some ways I'm really glad about that. I know my husband also likes that about me. That I'm open and trusting. But it can also lead to me being easily hurt. That's why most of the time I tend to avoid confrontation unless I feel strongly about something. Such as how much good that silly ice bucket challenge is doing for the organization trying to fight ALS.
So yeah, I just had to get all this off my chest one last time. Writing helps me to purge the ugly thoughts that can threaten to drown me when something like this happens. You'll notice, that unlike what some people might do, I try very hard to keep the identity of those people involved with this a secret. I don't name names. Only someone who knows the situation or knows these people well will know whom I am speaking of. A few family members 'might' figure it out. While I do want to put my feelings about this incident out there for my own peace of mind and mental well being, I don't have any wish to publicly humiliate or anger someone else, as that is not the type of person that I am. I talk about these experiences because I know that they happen to others too, and may leave those people feeling confused and hurt and angry as I felt yesterday.
If for some reason someone does show this post to the young ladies involved, I forgive you, I'm praying for you and I hope that life is better for you in the future. That you can let go of the things that make you so angry, break down your walls and accept different people into your life that can bring you a fresh perspective. If you ever want to reconnect, I'm here. If not, and this just makes you more angry, well, I can't take responsibility for your emotions, and I won't try to.
Thanks for listening. Even if no one ever reads this, typing it out makes me feel a lot better.
Dawn
Those of you who follow me on Facebook probably saw my post yesterday. I was angry and a little hurt by a family member who ended up unfriending me because she found me 'annoying'. Mainly she didn't like that I disagreed with her about something. (The ALS Icebucket challenge) My comments were light-hearted and teasing but when she basically alluded to the fact that she found me dumb for finding something funny I defended myself. Like I said in a post a while back, I won't lay down and take people's crap. If you attack me, I'll defend myself, period. That's when she got mad and sent me a private message telling me how annoying I was and no wonder her younger sister had deleted me too.
I enlightened her to the fact that her sister hadn't deleted me, I'd deleted her. Because I was attacked on her page as well, for giving well meaning advice that she didn't like the sound of. When one asks for advice in a public forum, you may well get advice you don't like. There is never any reason to mean or rude, you can simply thank the person and move on, or tell them that the advice won't work for you, sorry. At least that's how I'd handle it, since I was raised to have manners.
I hold no illusions that this girl cares anything about me. She's probably glad I won't be popping up in her newsfeed anymore, though I do hope her oldest sister remains my friend, I have no issues with her whatsoever, but I know that sometimes a spat with one family member can have repercussions on other relationships as well.
I'm not naive enough to believe that everyone will share the same views as me, and I'm okay with that too. If you are polite and respectful to me, then I will show you that same courtesy. It's pretty simple and I'm probably one of the easiest people on the planet to get a long with. I can usually find something I like or some redeeming quality in everyone.
But I got to thinking last night about why two young women would be so angry and bitter all the time. It was highly obvious in most of the memes and things that they posted on Facebook. Most of which I just ignored because I didn't want to perpetuate and approve of drama.
These young ladies can't have had an easy life. Some of it we have in common, having parents that are alcoholics. Their Mom was always very good to me, but is an abrasive woman, who carries around her own fair share of anger at the hands life has dealt to her. People whose lives have been filled with so much hurt and abuse tend to hurt and abuse others without any thought as to the consequences of their actions. It's sad really. Idealist people like me try to see the good in everyone, but there comes a time when you can only take so much and you just have to sever ties and move on. And trust me, that doesn't take me as long to do as it used to. I used to take it, and take it and take it from people before I got fed up and moved on. Now, I do it a whole lot quicker. There is no reason to cause myself anguish over someone who can't see past their own hurt and anger and who lashes out at other people with only the slightest of provocation.
I know not everyone I come across in life will like me. I like to think I'm a pretty likable person, but some people seem to take issue with me and that's ok. I try to quickly identify those and get them out of my life or get out of their life before problems come up. But again, with family, I tried a little harder to make it work. Because I've always believed that your family should have your back and you should have theirs. Well, let me tell you, LESSON LEARNED! It's not always the case and it's one thing that I'm going to try and watch for in the future.
I'm what my friend Alison calls a 'feeler'. I feel emotions and things strongly and can be easily hurt. I don't have a thick skin and in some ways I'm really glad about that. I know my husband also likes that about me. That I'm open and trusting. But it can also lead to me being easily hurt. That's why most of the time I tend to avoid confrontation unless I feel strongly about something. Such as how much good that silly ice bucket challenge is doing for the organization trying to fight ALS.
So yeah, I just had to get all this off my chest one last time. Writing helps me to purge the ugly thoughts that can threaten to drown me when something like this happens. You'll notice, that unlike what some people might do, I try very hard to keep the identity of those people involved with this a secret. I don't name names. Only someone who knows the situation or knows these people well will know whom I am speaking of. A few family members 'might' figure it out. While I do want to put my feelings about this incident out there for my own peace of mind and mental well being, I don't have any wish to publicly humiliate or anger someone else, as that is not the type of person that I am. I talk about these experiences because I know that they happen to others too, and may leave those people feeling confused and hurt and angry as I felt yesterday.
If for some reason someone does show this post to the young ladies involved, I forgive you, I'm praying for you and I hope that life is better for you in the future. That you can let go of the things that make you so angry, break down your walls and accept different people into your life that can bring you a fresh perspective. If you ever want to reconnect, I'm here. If not, and this just makes you more angry, well, I can't take responsibility for your emotions, and I won't try to.
Thanks for listening. Even if no one ever reads this, typing it out makes me feel a lot better.
Dawn
Thursday, July 10, 2014
Who cares?
You know what really aggravates me?
Well, if you don't, I'm going to tell you. People that insist on commenting on news articles stating, "We don't care about this, why is this news?" They seem to have some sort of idea that only the news that interests them is actually 'news'. Everything else is just stupid fluff. And of course, those of us who are interested in things that they don't deem newsworthy are just stupid air heads. That or 'silly liberals' which is one that really gets my goat!
Anyone who knows me, knows that I'm a celeb junkie. Not to the point of being ridiculous about it, and also not to the point of believing everything I read, I'm not stupid. But I enjoy seeing what celebs are up to. From what they are wearing to who is getting married or having babies. I just find it interesting. I like seeing happy stories, I lament when something unfortunate happens to a celeb I like. It's a diversion, and most celebs know that when they become famous, this is what they sign on for. Those that like to keep their lives private generally become very good at doing so, while still remaining in the public eye for their work. So they can usually avoid the nonsense if they don't want to be part of it and I respect that.
But why people seem to selfishly believe that if they don't care about something it shouldn't be 'news' just pisses me off! I'M interested, so back off! Let me just enjoy what I'm reading, and go comment on something that you deem worth your time.
The other thing that bothers me is that they are actually taking time out of their day to comment that they don't care. If they truly didn't care, they wouldn't bother. They'd move on to the things that interest them, instead of trying to ruin it for the rest of us by telling the media they don't want to hear these things. I personally would prefer a well-rounded media that reports on everything, than one that only reports on a few things that some people deem newsworthy. Also, it's nice to see lighthearted stories in my newsfeed, instead of just gloom and doom and misery. Life has enough of that already.
So if you don't care, don't comment. Just go on with your life, read the things you DO care about, and leave my stuff alone!!
*gets off soapbox*
Dawn
Well, if you don't, I'm going to tell you. People that insist on commenting on news articles stating, "We don't care about this, why is this news?" They seem to have some sort of idea that only the news that interests them is actually 'news'. Everything else is just stupid fluff. And of course, those of us who are interested in things that they don't deem newsworthy are just stupid air heads. That or 'silly liberals' which is one that really gets my goat!
Anyone who knows me, knows that I'm a celeb junkie. Not to the point of being ridiculous about it, and also not to the point of believing everything I read, I'm not stupid. But I enjoy seeing what celebs are up to. From what they are wearing to who is getting married or having babies. I just find it interesting. I like seeing happy stories, I lament when something unfortunate happens to a celeb I like. It's a diversion, and most celebs know that when they become famous, this is what they sign on for. Those that like to keep their lives private generally become very good at doing so, while still remaining in the public eye for their work. So they can usually avoid the nonsense if they don't want to be part of it and I respect that.
But why people seem to selfishly believe that if they don't care about something it shouldn't be 'news' just pisses me off! I'M interested, so back off! Let me just enjoy what I'm reading, and go comment on something that you deem worth your time.
The other thing that bothers me is that they are actually taking time out of their day to comment that they don't care. If they truly didn't care, they wouldn't bother. They'd move on to the things that interest them, instead of trying to ruin it for the rest of us by telling the media they don't want to hear these things. I personally would prefer a well-rounded media that reports on everything, than one that only reports on a few things that some people deem newsworthy. Also, it's nice to see lighthearted stories in my newsfeed, instead of just gloom and doom and misery. Life has enough of that already.
So if you don't care, don't comment. Just go on with your life, read the things you DO care about, and leave my stuff alone!!
*gets off soapbox*
Dawn
Monday, May 12, 2014
Memories...
Hello faithful readers!
Memories can be a powerful thing. I recently wrote a blog about grief, in which a connection of painful memories were brought about by a TV show. Today I'm going to talk about happy memories.
These memories were brought about when a gal I went to high school with posted a pic of she and I from the musical we both performed in. We did The Music Man my senior year of high school. It was honestly one of the most amazing times of my life back then. My home life wasn't always the greatest. Don't get me wrong, it wasn't horrible. I wasn't physically abused, I didn't live in abject poverty. But I did have parents who were alcoholics and drug addicts. That made things tough sometimes. My parents were generally pretty wrapped up in whatever pleasures they sought, and little attention was paid to me and my brothers. This suited me to a degree. I was smart enough to do things for myself and thankfully I was smart enough to keep myself on a good path.
I didn't live near any of my friends though. The closest one was still several miles away, so it's not like I could ride a bike to her house, though I think I did once. So other than talking to them on the phone life could be pretty lonely for me there.
But when it came time for the school musical, I insisted that I get to participate. I had done the play Peter Pan the year before and loved it. My parents didn't want to bother to come and pick me up from school in the evening after practice, and wouldn't take me to practice if I came home from school. So I stayed at school until practice time, then I begged a ride home from someone. Sometimes I had to asked our director to ask for a ride on my behalf because I didn't know a lot of people well enough to ask and I was painfully, awkwardly shy in those days. (I was actually voted shyest in my high school class! People that know me now don't believe unless I show them my year book!) and none of my small circle of friends was in the musical with me. That meant I was at school from about 7:45 in the morning to something like 8 at night or later. I did my homework and ate from the vending machines for my supper. (probably the beginning of some of my bad eating habits!)
For weeks this went on. Because I was there so much, I helped with nearly every aspect of the play. From props to sets to costumes to blocking scenes and helping people rehearse their lines. I had a pretty small part myself. (had I not been so shy during my audition I might have gotten a better part!) But I threw myself into that show with everything I had, because really at the time, it was all I had.
When it came time for our performances it was amazing. The experience of it all still sings in my blood to this day. The very last performance, a Sunday afternoon, I begged my Mom to come. She told me she might, if she could. Then she called me at the school and told me she couldn't make it. What a blow that was. I had worked so hard, poured my heart and soul into this, and she couldn't be bothered enough to come and see me perform. I was beside myself with tears. Friends that I had made during the musical consoled me and helped me get ready and do my makeup.
Amazingly my Mom did make it. During the intermission she appeared and I was again beset with tears of happiness. It meant the world to me that she actually came. I don't remember how she got there, and it doesn't matter now, but I was so glad that she came.
Then, at the end of the show, the cast members took me aside and presented me with a beautiful bouquet of flowers. They had all pitched in and got them to thank me for everything that I'd done for the musical. Again I found myself in tears, as I stood out on the stage holding those beautiful blooms in my arms. It was one of the first times in my life when I felt truly valued by others. Pretty sad when you think that by then I was already 17 years old and had never felt that way before.
I will never forget that experience or the friends that I made during that time. Many of them weren't in my grade, and I've reconnected with a few since then. I hope that anyone that was involved in that musical and if they ever read this understand how much all that meant to me and how it still affects me as a person to this day.
Thank you for being a part of a very defining moment in my life. I will never forget you all.
Dawn
Memories can be a powerful thing. I recently wrote a blog about grief, in which a connection of painful memories were brought about by a TV show. Today I'm going to talk about happy memories.
These memories were brought about when a gal I went to high school with posted a pic of she and I from the musical we both performed in. We did The Music Man my senior year of high school. It was honestly one of the most amazing times of my life back then. My home life wasn't always the greatest. Don't get me wrong, it wasn't horrible. I wasn't physically abused, I didn't live in abject poverty. But I did have parents who were alcoholics and drug addicts. That made things tough sometimes. My parents were generally pretty wrapped up in whatever pleasures they sought, and little attention was paid to me and my brothers. This suited me to a degree. I was smart enough to do things for myself and thankfully I was smart enough to keep myself on a good path.
I didn't live near any of my friends though. The closest one was still several miles away, so it's not like I could ride a bike to her house, though I think I did once. So other than talking to them on the phone life could be pretty lonely for me there.
But when it came time for the school musical, I insisted that I get to participate. I had done the play Peter Pan the year before and loved it. My parents didn't want to bother to come and pick me up from school in the evening after practice, and wouldn't take me to practice if I came home from school. So I stayed at school until practice time, then I begged a ride home from someone. Sometimes I had to asked our director to ask for a ride on my behalf because I didn't know a lot of people well enough to ask and I was painfully, awkwardly shy in those days. (I was actually voted shyest in my high school class! People that know me now don't believe unless I show them my year book!) and none of my small circle of friends was in the musical with me. That meant I was at school from about 7:45 in the morning to something like 8 at night or later. I did my homework and ate from the vending machines for my supper. (probably the beginning of some of my bad eating habits!)
For weeks this went on. Because I was there so much, I helped with nearly every aspect of the play. From props to sets to costumes to blocking scenes and helping people rehearse their lines. I had a pretty small part myself. (had I not been so shy during my audition I might have gotten a better part!) But I threw myself into that show with everything I had, because really at the time, it was all I had.
When it came time for our performances it was amazing. The experience of it all still sings in my blood to this day. The very last performance, a Sunday afternoon, I begged my Mom to come. She told me she might, if she could. Then she called me at the school and told me she couldn't make it. What a blow that was. I had worked so hard, poured my heart and soul into this, and she couldn't be bothered enough to come and see me perform. I was beside myself with tears. Friends that I had made during the musical consoled me and helped me get ready and do my makeup.
Amazingly my Mom did make it. During the intermission she appeared and I was again beset with tears of happiness. It meant the world to me that she actually came. I don't remember how she got there, and it doesn't matter now, but I was so glad that she came.
Then, at the end of the show, the cast members took me aside and presented me with a beautiful bouquet of flowers. They had all pitched in and got them to thank me for everything that I'd done for the musical. Again I found myself in tears, as I stood out on the stage holding those beautiful blooms in my arms. It was one of the first times in my life when I felt truly valued by others. Pretty sad when you think that by then I was already 17 years old and had never felt that way before.
I will never forget that experience or the friends that I made during that time. Many of them weren't in my grade, and I've reconnected with a few since then. I hope that anyone that was involved in that musical and if they ever read this understand how much all that meant to me and how it still affects me as a person to this day.
Thank you for being a part of a very defining moment in my life. I will never forget you all.
Dawn
Friday, April 25, 2014
What is grief?
Hello faithful readers!
I found myself last night contemplating grief. Despite the title of this post, I obviously know what grief is, but my question last night to my husband was, "How do you deal with it? What is it you're supposed to do when you 'come to terms' with your grief over something?"
As many may know, my ex and I lost our son when he was a baby. I won't go into the details of how, but he was 8 months old and it was a tragic accident. I also happened to be pregnant with Lilli when Aidan passed away, I had only just found out the week before. A few months after Aidan died, I was at my friend Shannon's house babysitting her boys and saw an episode of the doctor show House. In the episode, a woman has a seizure and drops her baby in the bathtub. At first the baby is OK, but it eventually dies because the mother tries to smother him because she's hearing voices. They aren't able to save him because of a disease both he and his mother have.
Needless to say, of any episode I'd ever seen of the series, this one stuck in my brain. All these years later I still would find myself thinking of it at odd moments. Recently Kevin and I found all 8 seasons of House are now on Netflix and have begun watching it. I started thinking more about that episode, though I didn't know where it appeared in the series, and was dreading it. It came on last night. I became more and more distressed during the episode until Kevin decided we should skip that one.
I guess I deal with grief differently than others, but for me, I have a really hard time with painful feelings. I tend to lock them up inside me, try to not think about them so much. It's not as if I've forgotten Aidan, I mention him frequently, especially since Rhys was born. But I try to avoid thinking about his actual death, the night that he died. I don't visit his grave, which I'm sure some will find very odd. I have only been to his gravesite a few times in the last 8 or so years. The last time was not long after Kevin arrived here, he went with me. I don't know that I could manage it on my own.
Last night after we had moved onto a different episode of House, my eyes kept straying to the photo album I have of Aidan. I keep on the top of the bookshelf, because it's too huge to fit on the shelf. My best friends Billie (Aidan's Godmother) and Becki made it for me with that whole scrapbooking thing. They had also bought Aidan's tombstone for him. It was a beautiful gesture that I'm still grateful for to this day. After a while I asked Kevin if he could get it down off the shelf for me. I sat looking through it, smiling at the pictures of my little guy. Other than that photo album, and one picture of him in my bedroom, I don't have pictures of him displayed anywhere else in my home.
I still have random flashbacks of scenes and emotions from the night that he died. They'll hit me out of nowhere, like someone just coming up and punching you in the gut. I keep wondering if it will ever get better. Maybe it won't if I don't deal with it all properly, but really, how do you deal with it? Talking about it? Sometimes that's the hardest of all. As close as I am to my husband, I rarely have discussed Aidan with him. When we were first 'dating' over the internet, he asked me if I wanted to talk about Aidan. I told him that I would rather wait till we were physically together before attempting it. Then, when I went to England to see him for the first time, we were lying in bed together and he asked me if I wanted to talk about it. I did, and cried in his arms, harder than I'd cried in a long time. That was only two years after Aidan had passed.
He would have been nine years old this June. I find myself wondering what he would have been like. He was such a docile, quiet, sweet little baby. Always had a smile, and was the best sleeper of all my kids. He also, out of all my kids, was the one that looked the most like me.
I guess I am sort of dealing with it, in my own way. I always tell people that are grieving that they have to do so in their own way and in their own time. I guess I should take that advice. It's just so strange, the things that can bring grief so strongly into the forefront of your mind, as happened to me last night with an old episode of a TV show.
So I guess there isn't just one answer to my questions. Or any real answer at all. Like I told a friend once, when their child died suddenly at the age of five, and she asked me, "How do you do it?" (this was just a couple years after Aidan had died) and I told her, "One day at a time."
Dawn
I found myself last night contemplating grief. Despite the title of this post, I obviously know what grief is, but my question last night to my husband was, "How do you deal with it? What is it you're supposed to do when you 'come to terms' with your grief over something?"
As many may know, my ex and I lost our son when he was a baby. I won't go into the details of how, but he was 8 months old and it was a tragic accident. I also happened to be pregnant with Lilli when Aidan passed away, I had only just found out the week before. A few months after Aidan died, I was at my friend Shannon's house babysitting her boys and saw an episode of the doctor show House. In the episode, a woman has a seizure and drops her baby in the bathtub. At first the baby is OK, but it eventually dies because the mother tries to smother him because she's hearing voices. They aren't able to save him because of a disease both he and his mother have.
Needless to say, of any episode I'd ever seen of the series, this one stuck in my brain. All these years later I still would find myself thinking of it at odd moments. Recently Kevin and I found all 8 seasons of House are now on Netflix and have begun watching it. I started thinking more about that episode, though I didn't know where it appeared in the series, and was dreading it. It came on last night. I became more and more distressed during the episode until Kevin decided we should skip that one.
I guess I deal with grief differently than others, but for me, I have a really hard time with painful feelings. I tend to lock them up inside me, try to not think about them so much. It's not as if I've forgotten Aidan, I mention him frequently, especially since Rhys was born. But I try to avoid thinking about his actual death, the night that he died. I don't visit his grave, which I'm sure some will find very odd. I have only been to his gravesite a few times in the last 8 or so years. The last time was not long after Kevin arrived here, he went with me. I don't know that I could manage it on my own.
Last night after we had moved onto a different episode of House, my eyes kept straying to the photo album I have of Aidan. I keep on the top of the bookshelf, because it's too huge to fit on the shelf. My best friends Billie (Aidan's Godmother) and Becki made it for me with that whole scrapbooking thing. They had also bought Aidan's tombstone for him. It was a beautiful gesture that I'm still grateful for to this day. After a while I asked Kevin if he could get it down off the shelf for me. I sat looking through it, smiling at the pictures of my little guy. Other than that photo album, and one picture of him in my bedroom, I don't have pictures of him displayed anywhere else in my home.
I still have random flashbacks of scenes and emotions from the night that he died. They'll hit me out of nowhere, like someone just coming up and punching you in the gut. I keep wondering if it will ever get better. Maybe it won't if I don't deal with it all properly, but really, how do you deal with it? Talking about it? Sometimes that's the hardest of all. As close as I am to my husband, I rarely have discussed Aidan with him. When we were first 'dating' over the internet, he asked me if I wanted to talk about Aidan. I told him that I would rather wait till we were physically together before attempting it. Then, when I went to England to see him for the first time, we were lying in bed together and he asked me if I wanted to talk about it. I did, and cried in his arms, harder than I'd cried in a long time. That was only two years after Aidan had passed.
He would have been nine years old this June. I find myself wondering what he would have been like. He was such a docile, quiet, sweet little baby. Always had a smile, and was the best sleeper of all my kids. He also, out of all my kids, was the one that looked the most like me.
I guess I am sort of dealing with it, in my own way. I always tell people that are grieving that they have to do so in their own way and in their own time. I guess I should take that advice. It's just so strange, the things that can bring grief so strongly into the forefront of your mind, as happened to me last night with an old episode of a TV show.
So I guess there isn't just one answer to my questions. Or any real answer at all. Like I told a friend once, when their child died suddenly at the age of five, and she asked me, "How do you do it?" (this was just a couple years after Aidan had died) and I told her, "One day at a time."
Dawn
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