Most people who know me would probably say I am outspoken, opinionated and sometimes pretty stubborn. I try to be kind and respectful but I’m pretty sure no one would describe me as sweet or quiet. I’m ok with that. I often end up in lengthy conversations or even arguments with people over topics that I feel are important. When “topics” become people I’m a little less…not sure the word here… patient maybe, and no less quiet. I often am asked why I bother. Why do I spend time arguing with people who will “never change”? Why do I let it consume me? Part of the answer is that it is true that I occasionally should walk away and come back or drop it but I am stubborn. The other part is because how I grew up, where I grew up, and what I have seen has given me a unique perspective. I’m not saying I am special. You see, I have a secret that I was always too ashamed to admit. Now I am realizing that this is the exact time to talk about it and instead of being ashamed, I can start to talk about what I learned and be (proud isn’t exactly the right word) better and do something with it.
I am a member of Generation X. People forget about us. You often hear about Boomers and Millennials but our smaller in between population of Generation Xers is often forgotten. We are the latchkey kids. We basically raised ourselves. Our moms joined the workforce and our parents didn’t have a ton of money (not the money we ended up having when we became adults at least) so there wasn’t a big Nanny movement. We pretty much raised ourselves. For many of us that was a huge benefit. We learned a lot and became adaptable. We basically invented everything people use today including all of the technology you’re using right now. We were problem solvers. We had to figure out how to navigate everything on our own. Children born in the 60s and 70s grew up in the 80s and 90s. Weird times. The 80s and 90s could have been 40 years apart based on the differences between them. I could keep going because it is a pretty fascinating topic but that would be a different article. Bottom line is that we were often without guidance.
I graduated high school in 1994 from a public school in the Poconos. Sounds lovely enough, right? The Poconos. The “Mountains”. Lakes….so pretty! I wasn’t born in the Poconos. My parents moved there from the Philly suburb of Upper Darby to give their kids a chance at a better life and get away from some of the things that were tearing apart our neighborhood (drugs,etc.). So I was a teenager in the Poconos in the early 90s.
Two major things happened in the early 90s.
1. The start of a giant housing and loan scam aimed to take advantage of low income people from New York and New Jersey (aka people of color) by promising a new and perfect life at a low cost in the beautiful Pocono Mountains. Look it up. It’s a real thing.
2. Skinheads. Look it up. It’s a real thing. Continue reading
Trigger warning. This content is about sexual assault.
Edit: I keep saying this is not a political post, but it is. I should be saying this is not a partisan post. I should also say that rape should not be politicized. Unfortunately it is. So to start over… This is a post about politics but not a party post. This is a post about the completely messed up system that has given us accused rapists as presidential candidates.
Additional edit: Based on the assumption in our legal system that the accused are innocent until proven guilty, I wanted to explain what I mean when I say I believe her and all victims until what they say is proven untrue. The following explanation was written by Arwa Mahdawi, ”Reade’s story may be impossible to verify, but this is the case with the vast majority of sexual assault allegations. It is nearly always a case of “he said, she said” – and it is nearly always the “he’ that is automatically believed. The #MeToo mantra “Believe Women” doesn’t mean that women never lie; it means that our systems of power are biased towards believing men never lie. It means that it takes decades of allegations and scores of women coming forward for powerful men like Harvey Weinstein, Jeffrey Epstein and Bill Cosby to be brought to justice. All the mantra means is that you shouldn’t automatically disbelieve women.” In addition, with both presidential candidates being accused by multiple women of some type of assault, I would tend to believe at least one is telling the truth. It takes a lot to come forward knowing your life and reputation will be publicly drug through the mud. Joe Biden said it best regarding the Kavanaugh trial “For a woman to come forward in the glaring lights of focus, nationally, you’ve got to start off with the presumption that at least the essence of what she’s talking about is real.” Those sentiments don’t change when you are the accused.
I don’t know if what I am feeling is anger or sadness or rage or a combination of all of them. This post started with a comment on a friend’s post and I decided I needed to write about it. It is not a political post. It is tough to see through politics and stick to topics when politicians are involved but trust me. We all have a big decision ahead and I want to crawl in a hole. I normally take time to craft my words and sometimes I still come off as a little scattered. I am sure a lot of this will read very scattered. I’m sure many of you can relate right now. Everything in the world is weird. It’a surreal. Not everything is doom and gloom. There is a lot to be thankful for and with most things I remain positive, but C’mon. Things are so freaking weird. It’s a nightmare wrapped in a Dali painting. What in the actual fuck is happening right now? We are in the middle of a pandemic. People are dying, people are scared, people are starving, jobs are lost, businesses are going under, people miss their families, can’t attend funerals and weddings and the hits just keep on coming. Murder Wasps. Tornadoes in Toms River NJ. House Fires. Shootings. I could keep going, but that is another post. I should probably write that one next.
Joe Biden was just publicly accused of sexual assault. Yep. That happened. This wasn’t the first time he was accused but he was just publicly accused again. I have been struggling with all of this. When I say struggling, I am a rape survivor. I was raped in my own home over 10 years ago. I do not think someone needs to be raped to understand just how upsetting this all is but I do think it gives some perspective when reading my opinion. I was talking to a friend the other day and she said we are now basically forced to choose the “lesser of two rapists”. I keep repeating that in my head. Is this really where we live? Is this really what it comes down to? The post I commented on today was similar to many going around right now. It was accusing Democrats of being hypocrites for stating they will still vote for Biden even though he was just accused of assault. I keep seeing these posts. They are spun from the perspective of either party depending on who is making the point.
But none of this news is actually political.
I was in an abusive relationship.
Sometimes I need to just say that out loud and let it hang in the air for a little bit. Those words are so strange coming out of my mouth. Even sitting here getting ready to type out my story I keep stopping and staring off and thinking back to what it was like to be in that space, that life. Then I try to refocus and get back to writing.
How much of this story do I share? How deep do I go? Do I share this moment or that moment? And then I stare again at nothing and think back to this or that moment…
What the hell happened? That is not me. How did I let those things happen to me?
I don’t exactly know how it happened. I have some ideas and I know some of the ridiculous feelings I had when I knew deep down I needed to get out but chose to stay. I know what those ridiculous thoughts were but I still don’t know why or how I let myself get there. I might not ever really know. I do know that at some point I stopped loving myself. I had to have stopped loving myself. I had to have stopped understanding my worth. And that is so crazy. How did THAT happen?
Deep breath Continue reading
The soft ocean breeze hits my body and whispers to me to relax (shhhhhh). I can hear the seagulls. They are softly telling me to keep my eyes closed and just breathe (hushhhhh). There is no place I would rather be. The sound of the… bull horn. That’s a bullhorn. That is a loud freaking bull horn. What the hell is going on? I feel myself being pulled from my beach chair into the air toward that crazy, uncomfortable sound. Why am I going up? Why am I …
Oh. It’s my alarm. It’s 4:30am. Time to make the donuts. If you don’t know what that means, it means I’m old. Continue reading
“Wow. That’s pretty brave to start something like that.”
I didn’t know this guy at all really and certainly not well enough for him to make such a judge-y statement about my new relationship. I didn’t respond because I didn’t know what he meant. It took me maybe a month and then I remembered and realized what he meant. In hindsight I think it’s a good thing because it was a pretty shitty thing to say. My response would not have been how I really feel and would not have helped. I am also glad it did not cause me to over think what I was, in fact, “getting into”. I tend to overthink a lot (as evidenced by the fact that I am still thinking about this guy’s statement years later). Continue reading
I mean, most of us have some pretty crazy dating horror stories. I have a few that are pretty GIANT. Like the time I was asked out by a serial killer.
For a while I was convinced that I was one of those people who attracted “bad” people or the wrong people. Ya know what?! I was 100% correct. It’s almost comical, really. Ok. It is totally funny in hindsight. What isn’t funny is as bad as it was at times, it could have been so much worse.
When I said I thought I attracted some “bad” people, I actually mean that a couple of them were downright evil. Continue reading
I found this old photo of myself again today. It pops up every now and then. I think I was about 20 years old. I was so cool. I dressed cool. I looked cool. I said cool things. I did cool stuff.
Every time I look at old photos of myself I do that whole – I wish I still looked like that -thing, but only for about 60 seconds. I mean, let’s be real. When I looked like that, I wished I looked like Continue reading