Thursday 27 June 2013
Eternal Sunshine
I'm watching 'Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind'. I remember watching it when it first came out. It spoke to me in some huge profound way. I really like Clementine. I thoroughly identify with her... this broken, bizarre person, with the desperate urge to 'apply my personality through a paste' - hair-dye obviously. But I just really like the story.
There's a perfect moment where Clementine receives the tape from the session when she has her memory of Joel erased. They hear her saying the most acerbic things about him, about how he's boring, how he's changed her and all the tiny minute things he does that piss her off. The typical petty things that emerge when you've been in a relationship with someone. And then of course, she goes to his flat, and he has a tape, in which he talks openly about her - the things she does. And she listens to it. They verbally destroy each other. Hearing the worst about yourself from the person you love is always terrible. But it happens - it will happen. It has happened for me.
And then this happens:
How perfect. After all, you can't know how much you will love someone until the next person comes along. And you will either love them more or less, which will create a fork in the hypothetical road that you walk down. You will stay, or go. You will stay and try because whatever it is that you have means enough that you don't want to let go.
I suppose the real question is - deciding what to keep and what to discard.
If you knew that all you'd have left would be tears and heartbreak, would you keep that, rather than have nothing at all?
I'm reminded of this quote, which explains what I'm trying to say much more elegantly than I ever could:
''There's just this for consolation: an hour here or there when our lives seem, against all odds and expectations, to burst open and give us everything we've ever imagined, though everyone but children (and perhaps even they) know these hours will inevitably be followed by others, far darker and more difficult. ''
Michael Cunningham, The Hours
There's a perfect moment where Clementine receives the tape from the session when she has her memory of Joel erased. They hear her saying the most acerbic things about him, about how he's boring, how he's changed her and all the tiny minute things he does that piss her off. The typical petty things that emerge when you've been in a relationship with someone. And then of course, she goes to his flat, and he has a tape, in which he talks openly about her - the things she does. And she listens to it. They verbally destroy each other. Hearing the worst about yourself from the person you love is always terrible. But it happens - it will happen. It has happened for me.
And then this happens:
How perfect. After all, you can't know how much you will love someone until the next person comes along. And you will either love them more or less, which will create a fork in the hypothetical road that you walk down. You will stay, or go. You will stay and try because whatever it is that you have means enough that you don't want to let go.
I suppose the real question is - deciding what to keep and what to discard.
If you knew that all you'd have left would be tears and heartbreak, would you keep that, rather than have nothing at all?
I'm reminded of this quote, which explains what I'm trying to say much more elegantly than I ever could:
''There's just this for consolation: an hour here or there when our lives seem, against all odds and expectations, to burst open and give us everything we've ever imagined, though everyone but children (and perhaps even they) know these hours will inevitably be followed by others, far darker and more difficult. ''
Michael Cunningham, The Hours
Oh, Baby.
So, I've been having a recurring dream that I have a child. I say dream, it's more like a nightmare. It's incredibly vivid. In it, I wake up and find that I have a baby boy, called Henry, with blonde curly hair and blue eyes. That's all that really happens in this dream.
It's scary for me because I'm not the sort of person who has ever really strongly wanted children. I could only foresee myself having children if I had some kind of by-accident. However, as I am the kind of girl who takes the issue of contraception seriously, I can't see how I might inadvertently get pregnant. I suppose, if I did, I'd roll with it and work it out. But it's not something I am necessarily planning.
I mean, the whole issue of pregnancy and childbirth really freaks me out.
But the bigger issue in hand is what I privately refer to as 'the morph'. I know lots of people that get married - and the morph happens then too - but worse, they have children and they basically deteriorate into dumbness. They cease to be able to have conversations about anything other than pregnancy/the baby they've just had. Or they talk about awful, socially-unacceptable things, like breastfeeding, what it was like to give birth etc. I don't care what anyone says, no-body really wants to know how it feels to squeeze out a watermelon through something that only a grape ought to pass through. I. DON'T. WANT. TO. KNOW.
I mean, there are so many things to talk about at any given time - I just think that women who have just given birth to babies, their world shrinks and becomes so tiny that they don't know how to react to other normal, childless people any more. Some of these women never actually come out the other side of the morph. The change is permanent.
You can tell which women are susceptible to the powers of the morph - these are the women who suddenly have an inexplicable desire to bound home and cook their husbands dinner and wash their socks. They love housework. They want to give up work. They like to bake. They stop going out. I seriously think that this anti-feminist attitude is still out there at work, it's still brainwashing women. And for those that resist 'the morph' they are made to feel like they're abnormal - weird.
Perhaps this is more my issue... it's not necessarily about becoming a mother, it's more about a loss of identity. If you become Mother, does that mean you lose something? It's a bit like titles. A man is always Mr. A woman is initially Miss and she's expected to become Mrs when she gets married, and change her name. If she sticks two fingers up at the world and opts for Ms, there are sniggers as she isn't obeying the status quo. This is why on my email signature at work, I don't use a title. I just use my name. Because I want to avoid this whole issue. It's why I have an issue with changing my surname once I'm married next year. And I don't know how I'll avoid the issues of titles. I wish I was a Dr and then I wouldn't have to do this.
Marriage and parenthood has the capacity to wreak havoc with a woman's sense of identity and who she is. The thing is, I quite like being me. I appreciate one's personality will of course change over the years, but I don't know that I like the change being foisted upon me.
It's scary for me because I'm not the sort of person who has ever really strongly wanted children. I could only foresee myself having children if I had some kind of by-accident. However, as I am the kind of girl who takes the issue of contraception seriously, I can't see how I might inadvertently get pregnant. I suppose, if I did, I'd roll with it and work it out. But it's not something I am necessarily planning.
I mean, the whole issue of pregnancy and childbirth really freaks me out.
But the bigger issue in hand is what I privately refer to as 'the morph'. I know lots of people that get married - and the morph happens then too - but worse, they have children and they basically deteriorate into dumbness. They cease to be able to have conversations about anything other than pregnancy/the baby they've just had. Or they talk about awful, socially-unacceptable things, like breastfeeding, what it was like to give birth etc. I don't care what anyone says, no-body really wants to know how it feels to squeeze out a watermelon through something that only a grape ought to pass through. I. DON'T. WANT. TO. KNOW.
I mean, there are so many things to talk about at any given time - I just think that women who have just given birth to babies, their world shrinks and becomes so tiny that they don't know how to react to other normal, childless people any more. Some of these women never actually come out the other side of the morph. The change is permanent.
You can tell which women are susceptible to the powers of the morph - these are the women who suddenly have an inexplicable desire to bound home and cook their husbands dinner and wash their socks. They love housework. They want to give up work. They like to bake. They stop going out. I seriously think that this anti-feminist attitude is still out there at work, it's still brainwashing women. And for those that resist 'the morph' they are made to feel like they're abnormal - weird.
Perhaps this is more my issue... it's not necessarily about becoming a mother, it's more about a loss of identity. If you become Mother, does that mean you lose something? It's a bit like titles. A man is always Mr. A woman is initially Miss and she's expected to become Mrs when she gets married, and change her name. If she sticks two fingers up at the world and opts for Ms, there are sniggers as she isn't obeying the status quo. This is why on my email signature at work, I don't use a title. I just use my name. Because I want to avoid this whole issue. It's why I have an issue with changing my surname once I'm married next year. And I don't know how I'll avoid the issues of titles. I wish I was a Dr and then I wouldn't have to do this.
Marriage and parenthood has the capacity to wreak havoc with a woman's sense of identity and who she is. The thing is, I quite like being me. I appreciate one's personality will of course change over the years, but I don't know that I like the change being foisted upon me.
Monday 10 June 2013
Love
So, I must confess, I'm a long-time admirer of Courtney Love. I also think she is incredibly attractive.
Admittedly, there are many things she's done that are pretty bad... drug use, blah, blah. She's a woman who understands the concept of excess. I know lots of women who gently and quietly self-destruct, or basically fade away in front of your eyes, but she is a force of nature. She is a fireball, and I absolutely love it. I mean, if you are going to hell, take everyone else with you.
I love that she's viewed as controversial. If she were a man, no-one would give a shit about the things she's done. But, most people don't know what to do with women like her. That's one of the reasons why I like her. She completely subverts expectations of what women are ''supposed'' to be like. She's like the anti-woman, hence, why she scares the shit out of everyone.
Perhaps this is more a statement about me, but I thoroughly identify with most of the songs she has done either solo, or with Hole. They do speak to me.
For me, she's my generation of Feminist. She's a colossal fuck-up, BUT she dares to be different. She seems unafraid. And rather like a lot of other Feminist-y people that you might look up to, she hasn't been broken. Most women ahead of their time are crushed by circumstances.
Take a listen to the below... enjoy :)
I love that she's viewed as controversial. If she were a man, no-one would give a shit about the things she's done. But, most people don't know what to do with women like her. That's one of the reasons why I like her. She completely subverts expectations of what women are ''supposed'' to be like. She's like the anti-woman, hence, why she scares the shit out of everyone.
Perhaps this is more a statement about me, but I thoroughly identify with most of the songs she has done either solo, or with Hole. They do speak to me.
For me, she's my generation of Feminist. She's a colossal fuck-up, BUT she dares to be different. She seems unafraid. And rather like a lot of other Feminist-y people that you might look up to, she hasn't been broken. Most women ahead of their time are crushed by circumstances.
Take a listen to the below... enjoy :)
War
So, after a night's sleep and pondering on the thoughts of yesterday, I don't really feel a whole lot better.
Having said that, I might have lost the battle, but I won't lose the war.
Having said that, I might have lost the battle, but I won't lose the war.
Sunday 9 June 2013
Speaking
So, yesterday I had a very weird experience... weird for me.
I don't want to talk about what led to this experience - rather, it is the feelings involved that are important.
I was in a situation where I had an opportunity to speak to my mind, discuss my feelings and even air my grievances but, when the moment came, I was unable to do so. The last time I checked, this wasn't a problem for me. At work, if I need to, I'm able to raise my concerns and give my opinion, even if it goes against the consensus. If people upset me in my personal life - I'm usually able to find the words to have a conversation about the said problem. I wouldn't say that I was afraid of confrontation particularly. I mean, I don't like it, but if it has to happen - if it is essential to clear the air, or the only way to make yourself heard, well then, fine. The thought of an argument does not unnerve me.
I'd been thinking about this particular moment for quite some time. I even thought a little about what I'd want to say and how I'd want to say it. I would even go so far as to say, I was ready for an argument, should it happen. In this example, I have the moral high ground - I am not the guilty party, but rather the injured. Right is on my side, I thought.
But - when the opportunity revealed itself - actually, was on its knees begging to be had, I just didn't have the words to speak.
Afterwards, I was annoyed. I'm not sure if I'll get this chance again. I console myself with the notion that sharing my thoughts probably wouldn't have changed anything - it wouldn't make things different, I'd just feel a little better, I suppose. I could have scored a tiny moral victory and kept the triumph for myself - I'd have been the only one to feel it. The flip-side to this coin is - I didn't play my hand and make myself emotionally vulnerable, which could have been much worse.
If this chance comes again, I need to choose my battlefield better. Sometimes, you can be outnumbered, but where you choose to fight is half of the battle. I overlooked this. It's interesting how much of a difference the location can make.
I think, also, that the other person involved in this has an advantage. They intimidate me.
This comes to mind:
I didn't find my voice - my ability to stand up for myself, at the very earliest, until I went to College. It has taken a lot of therapy for me to even acknowledge that I'm allowed to speak, that my feelings are just a valid and worthwhile as anything anyone else wishes to say.
I spent my teenage years desperately seeking approval from people that would never give it. I used to be a terrible people-pleaser. I was never popular. I didn't have many friends. I was frightened to say and do the things I wanted and so I'd let myself do the things other people wanted in the hope that they might like me. It didn't help that I always felt horribly different anyway, and so it was probably better to be like them. At the time, I didn't realise that all the ways that I was different were precisely all the ways that made me special. It never occurred to me that it was OK to just be myself.
People that know me now find it hard to believe that I was bullied.
Or more to the point, that I allowed myself to be bullied.
I probably do over-compensate for this now and I am very different. I don't care what other people think about me. Life is too short to be sensitive about what other people think.
It's precisely this fact, and the fact that I still am able to be catapulted by some people, back into those horrible, awkward teenage years, to a time where I am continually anxious, worried, where I don't know what to say, or how to say it, and when I do have the words, I'm too terrified to dare to voice them that upsets me so. This isn't me. Why am I acting this way? Why am I not talking? Heaven for-fend that someone else is hurt by the things I have a right to say.
I can't believe myself sometimes.
I don't want to talk about what led to this experience - rather, it is the feelings involved that are important.
I was in a situation where I had an opportunity to speak to my mind, discuss my feelings and even air my grievances but, when the moment came, I was unable to do so. The last time I checked, this wasn't a problem for me. At work, if I need to, I'm able to raise my concerns and give my opinion, even if it goes against the consensus. If people upset me in my personal life - I'm usually able to find the words to have a conversation about the said problem. I wouldn't say that I was afraid of confrontation particularly. I mean, I don't like it, but if it has to happen - if it is essential to clear the air, or the only way to make yourself heard, well then, fine. The thought of an argument does not unnerve me.
I'd been thinking about this particular moment for quite some time. I even thought a little about what I'd want to say and how I'd want to say it. I would even go so far as to say, I was ready for an argument, should it happen. In this example, I have the moral high ground - I am not the guilty party, but rather the injured. Right is on my side, I thought.
But - when the opportunity revealed itself - actually, was on its knees begging to be had, I just didn't have the words to speak.
Afterwards, I was annoyed. I'm not sure if I'll get this chance again. I console myself with the notion that sharing my thoughts probably wouldn't have changed anything - it wouldn't make things different, I'd just feel a little better, I suppose. I could have scored a tiny moral victory and kept the triumph for myself - I'd have been the only one to feel it. The flip-side to this coin is - I didn't play my hand and make myself emotionally vulnerable, which could have been much worse.
If this chance comes again, I need to choose my battlefield better. Sometimes, you can be outnumbered, but where you choose to fight is half of the battle. I overlooked this. It's interesting how much of a difference the location can make.
I think, also, that the other person involved in this has an advantage. They intimidate me.
This comes to mind:
Regression
noun
I spent my teenage years desperately seeking approval from people that would never give it. I used to be a terrible people-pleaser. I was never popular. I didn't have many friends. I was frightened to say and do the things I wanted and so I'd let myself do the things other people wanted in the hope that they might like me. It didn't help that I always felt horribly different anyway, and so it was probably better to be like them. At the time, I didn't realise that all the ways that I was different were precisely all the ways that made me special. It never occurred to me that it was OK to just be myself.
People that know me now find it hard to believe that I was bullied.
Or more to the point, that I allowed myself to be bullied.
I probably do over-compensate for this now and I am very different. I don't care what other people think about me. Life is too short to be sensitive about what other people think.
It's precisely this fact, and the fact that I still am able to be catapulted by some people, back into those horrible, awkward teenage years, to a time where I am continually anxious, worried, where I don't know what to say, or how to say it, and when I do have the words, I'm too terrified to dare to voice them that upsets me so. This isn't me. Why am I acting this way? Why am I not talking? Heaven for-fend that someone else is hurt by the things I have a right to say.
I can't believe myself sometimes.
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