My Sisters

I spent this past weekend with some of the greatest women on the planet...  My sisters.  All 7 of them.  We had a weekend together of celebrating one sister's upcoming nuptials.  We had adventures, alcohol and 2 whole packages of penis straws!  #baloneyb4Mahoney  We slept piled into a way too small hotel room, reminiscent in many ways of our childhood bedroom situations.  (Thanks for not peeing on me, Doodle!)  Ending the night with Daudle sharing a special ritual that she does with her family every evening.  It was beautiful.  We shed tears over our recently passed Aunt Sher, that was a very prominent organizer of all things celebratory in our family.  She would have been very involved in this past weekend.  We miss her presence in our lives.  It is palpable.  We had breakfast together the next morning, after way too little sleep.  We should have planned the whole day to ourselves to lounge and recover from a night on the town (some of us are feeling way too old for this shit!), but some had children and family obligations to get to.  But we were back together the next day for a pool-side bridal shower.  There was lots of food, love and mermaid tails.  Real ones.  (Deal with your jealousy over this.) 

I was reminded how lucky I am to have these women in my life.  We grew up to be very different people, but the bond that was made when we were children is still there.  Still drawing us back to each other.  Still pulsating with a life all of its own.  It is sacred space.  It is sister space.  

Kids might say the damndest things, but mine ask me the weirdest shit

I have 3 teenagers.  They can be weird.  They travel in herds of other teenagers.  They can also be weird.  I openly talk about about masturbation, sex, birth, patriarchy, society being a dangerous twatwaffle - you know, awesome stuff.  I am sure that I am the worst mother to ever embarrass her teenage offspring.  Oh well.  I am over it.  
With my frankness about so many "taboo" topics, my kids often tell their friends to ask me all of their weird questions.  Or, their friends just ask me without any prompting or permission from my womb family.  Sometimes resulting in my dearest rolling their eyes, huffing loudly or physically removing their friends from the same room as me.  "Ugh, don't ask her that!"  "The answer will be so long!"  And, my personal favourite:  "No."  With a hand held in front of my face as I start to spew my magical, knowledgeable words of wisdom.  I am sure that it is in an effort of love, to save me from feeling obligated to carve time out of my super busy life to pander to their friends.  This is what I tell myself anyway.  

I am going to try to preserve (here) some of the bizarre questions that I get from the revolving packs of children that wander their way through my home.  Here are the most recent ones:

I went upstairs to call 3 girls down to dinner (mine + 2 others).  I stood in the doorway of a washroom and was bombarded with this -

"What exact size is a baby's heads when they are born?"

"Why does my stomach hurt?"

"If I take an unused condom and fill it with something, like put things inside of it, can I put it inside of me?"  

This is my circus.  These are my monkeys.  Someone please check on me periodically to make sure that some shreds of sanity are still intact.  

Bathroom Wars Put into Perspective (aka, What the fuck is wrong with you, America?)

I'm sure you've heard about it.  The ridiculous, dangerous things happening in America's bathrooms.  Which have nothing to do with transgendered persons using them.  I came across some great words shared on Facebook by a woman named Stephanie Hunter from Denver, Colorado.  It was an epic rant that nailed the idiotic, paranoid, patriarchal panic-induced insanity over pee pee and poo poo rooms, and whose genitals look like what while they are in those rooms.  I shared Stephanie's post to my FB timeline.  Several times.  Because the post kept being reported, taken down for review, put back up, reported, taken down again.  I decided to preserve it here, to hopefully avoid FB's policing of words that need to be seen and my supposition of the kind of person that is doing this continual reporting.  If you are still under the impression that this is actually about bathrooms and who can/cannot use them in public, may I kindly suggest that you get your head out of your ass.  Or out of the sand.  Or out from under that rock.  It's not.  It is so, so not about bathrooms.  
Here are Stephanie's words:

I’ve stayed silent long enough.

Let me break this down for you.  I have a daughter.  She’s 6.  She has the loudest laugh and the spazziest dance moves you’ve ever seen.  I’m not scared by a bathroom.

In just a few years she may develop an eating disorder.  She may be pressured to suck dick, or spread her legs, or sext, or chug booze.  All before she is the age of 13.
Does this shock you?!?  Good.  That’s the point.  Statistically- all are true.  How does this happen???  Every second- every day- she is surrounded by images, songs, commercials, and more that mold her.

I have a 6 year old.  She swims in the bathtub with goggles.  Creates waves that create puddles all over my floor.  I laugh at her joy.  She asks to fall asleep in our bed.  She still snuggles me on the couch, and when she falls asleep I carry her to be bed covered in fairy lights.  She’s scared of the bogeyman.

He’s real.  He’ll rape her while she’s walking to her car.  It will be her fault- she shouldn’t have been walking by herself of course.  He’ll grab her ass while she’s serving him a drink.  She’ll smile and ignore because she needs the tip.  He’ll pay her less than her male counterparts.  He’ll make condescending remarks about how she will make “cute babies”- before he hands her his hotel room keycard.

Again, all statistically true.  Ask the female in your life if she’s ever been scared to walk to her car.  Had to hold her purse a bit closer, keys in hand, lock the door immediately. Ask her how many times she looked over her shoulder.  Ask your sister, or mother, or wife how many promotions she was passed over for, how many men have leered or cat called her, how many small concessions she’s made just to be seen as equal.

My daughter is 6.  She loves ponies, and swimming, and daddy.  She runs like the wind and rides her pink bike for hours.  Begs me for one more cannonball.  One more circling of the block.

She lives in a world that is built for men.  Rewards men.  Glorifies men.  A patriarchal world where men can make statements like “I need to protect my daughter from “freaks” in bathrooms” but that also doesn’t point out the hypocrisy of not protecting them from assault, gender pay gaps, objectification, and abuse.

I hate to break it to you.  Your daughter is less likely to be preyed on in a bathroom by a “freak” and more likely to be viciously raped before the age of 35.

By someone who looks probably a lot like you.  Completely normal.

Scare you?  It should.  It scares me.  My daughter's least worry should be the Target bathroom.

Because she needs to be prepared for the world we’ve made for her.  And it’s a terrifying one.

But by all means- go protest a Target.  Because that’s the real problem right?!?

My daughter is 6.  We have so much to do.  I have to raise a warrior.  To save her.  From you.

*mic drop*

I want to read this all day long!  And I want to scream, and cry, and applaud, and be empowered!  But I am fucking exhausted by it all.  This served as a reminder to me of who we are doing all of this for.  As Stephanie says, we have so much to do.  Still.  After all of these years of doing, and fighting, and changing, and talking, and screaming, and standing up for our rights in the face of the impossible.  We still have so much to do.  To fight for the next generation.  To raise warriors.  To fight for their next generation.  To save themselves.  To save us all. 

Storytime: When We Raise Men Like This, We End Rape Culture

Once upon a time... 

...I was talking to a young man and the conversation went a little something like this:

Him:  I was over at (redacted's) house last night because she said she wanted me to come over to talk about 'us'.  (Redacted is someone that this young man cares about and has been nurturing a friendship with for many months, being honest with her that it is in hopes of it becoming something more.)
Me:  And... how did it go?
Him:  Nowhere.  After being there for a few minutes I thought that she seemed 'off' so I asked if she'd been drinking.  She didn't really answer me so I looked around her room and found a bottle of vodka.
Me:  What did you do?
Him:  I left.

When we raise men like this, we end rape culture.  Even further - When we raise our children to view other people as fully human, and not objects, we change the world.  <3

It Smells Like Stale Sex in Here

This conversation happened in my kitchen yesterday between my partner and I...  (I just had to preserve this gem somewhere.  Ha!)  

Him:  *walks into the kitchen*  Are you ready to go?  Whoa!  What smells so weird in here?  It smells like - *sniffs* - something.  It smells like...  It smells like stale sex.  

Me:  Um.........................................  *blink*blink*blink*

Him:  Is it you?  *comes closer to presumably sniff me*

Me:  Yes, yup.  I smell like stale sex.  All the time.  

Him:  *slyly, sarcastically*  What did you do today?

Me:  Ha!  You know, in all of my spare time I had all the stale sex that I could.  

Him:  *still sniffing*  What is that?  

Me:  *still unsure if I want to help someone identify an odour that smells like stale sex, ever, in my life*  

Him:  No, seriously.  Where is that coming from?  

Me:  Um, I just emptied the garbage.  (Please tell me my kitchen does not smell like stale sex all the time?!?!)

Him:  No.  It's right here.  By you.

Me:  Great.  Do I just walk around everyday, smelling like stale sex?  That's fantastic.  Is it my hair?

Him:  *sniffs hair*  Nope.  But it's definitely right here.

Me:  Is it this?  *opens a bottle of kombucha that I'd been drinking*

Him:  Yes!  That's it!  Ugh!  How do you drink that stuff?  It smells like - 

Me:  Like stale sex?  *sigh*  Let's go.  

I am not sure what this says about the 2 of us as human beings but it made me wonder if 'stale sex' should be a new kombucha flavour.  I think yes.  

Virginity: As A Parent

We are so sex-obsessed in this culture.  And it's in all the wrong ways. 

Here is a statement for you...

You child's virginity is none of your business.  

How about this way?

Your child's virginity is NONE of your business.  

I had a woman in my life some years ago who, anytime she was talking about her teenager humans, would make sure to brag that she had gotten all three through high school without incidents of alcohol, drugs or sex.  Her attitude toward this whole theory baffled me.  I always wondered how she knew that that was 100% accurate, for one thing, and also, why that seemed to be her #1 parenting goal.  I hoped that when my humans reached teenagehood that my goals would be different, more centered on their personhood instead of meeting some socially mandated level of proof of morality.  The experience with this woman has stayed in my mind for all these years and is tumbling around a lot lately.  Maybe it's because mine have reached an age where this has faded from an unfocused event on the horizon to something that could be in sharp focus in their daily reality.  A presented option.  A suggested encounter.  A real life holy-shit-am-I-ready-for-this moment.  And I want them to be equipped to handle those moments. 
I don't know exactly what that picture will look like when we are there and living it.  I am assuming on my end there will be emotional devastation (that I am actually this old), copious amounts of chocolate consumption, leaning on my male counterpoint, propping up my male counterpoint and WHY THE HELL DO I NOT DRINK WINE!  ;)  What I do know is this - 

My children's intact virginity is not a merit badge indicating my worth as a parent.  I do not earn some sort of points or reward for "safeguarding" a hymen into "40 Year Old Virgin" territory.  

Here is another statement for you...

Your child having a safe place, a non-judgemental, non-opinionated, non-reactionary, soft, fluffy, SAFE place to hear medically accurate, evidenced-based facts, IS your business.  Interestingly enough, the only part that you can control begins and ends with you.  It is THE only aspect that you can control.  
You are responsible for creating that space for them.  And it starts long before they experience pressure to be involved in sexual activity.  And it starts with the tiniest, littlest everyday events that seem inconsequential, tedious and monotonous.  It starts with trust.  If you do not trust them, they will never trust you and, what's worse, they will not trust themselves.  And themselves is the only constant companion they'll have for their entire lives.  
If we shift from being singularly focused on "virginity" and instead broaden that focus to include happiness, safety, consent, maturity, bodily autonomy, ownership - now we've got a good conversation going.  Now we've got a focus that will extend and carry them into adulthood and the rest of their lives and not end the conversation when they are no longer "virgins".  Sexuality doesn't stop when contact is made between genitals.  By focusing on virginity and that alone, we give the message that they are their virginity, and that virginity is innocence; that once it is gone and the choice has been made the conversation ceases and they are on their own.  We do them a grave disservice with this mindset.  Sexuality, sexual choices, sexual options will be part of all of our lives for as long as we have life.  We should be equipping our children with the ability to make conscious choices, that are right for them, for the duration of their lives.  Your child, and their morals, should not be an extension of your belief system and moral code.  They are their own person. 

Your child's virginity, as a singular topic, is none of your business.  But your child's life, health, happiness and safety are.  

A Duggar Inspired Post (Didn't think I would ever utter those words.)

I am jumping on the bandwagon and addressing the Duggar sex abuse scandal.  It is incredibly timely to the conversations that I've been having lately, almost like a gift from god.  *drip drip goes the sarcasm* 
These conversations involve dress codes and the shaming message that they direct at girls (specifically).  You may agree (or not) that dress codes are damaging, sexist and filled with messages to girls that their bodies are distracting to boys and in need of being policed by someone other than the girl herself...  And then you add a 'but'.  "Oh yes, I can clearly see that that is the message of dress codes.  I agree with you, Hillary.  But, there HAS to be some boundaries in place - girls still need to dress appropriately.  I mean, I don't like to see these young girls with their butts hanging out of shorts.  That is inappropriate." 
Nope, nope, nope.  You do not get to be the moral police and decide what is appropriate for anyone other than yourself.  Period.  That's it.  Full stop. 
Here's why.
If girls dressing according to someone's version of appropriate and modest is the last line of defense against boys/men victimizing them, then WHY IN THE WORLD/HOW IN THE HELL did Josh Duggar even want to molest the innocent victims that he perpetrated against?!?!  After all, THEY ARE PERHAPS THE MOST MODESTLY DRESSED GIRLS/WOMEN/CULTURE IN ALL OF THE UNITED STATES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 
I know.  I can hear your shock and surprise from here.  "Hillary, you mean that their godly, modest, appropriate, biblically aligned garments did not stop someone from helping himself to their innocence and abusing them?"  THAT IS EXACTLY WHAT I MEAN! 
Everyone can and should be free to choose their own wardrobe.  Girls can and should be free to choose their own wardrobe.  Girls are people, too.  And they should be free to do this and not have to live in fear of being called names because of ignorant people's assumptions of what they may or may not do with their genitals solely based on their clothing choices. 
I know, I know.  I wish for an ideal world that's never going to happen.  At least, not as long as religion rules people's logic.  But, I can create an ideal world inside of my home for my offspring, and send them out to create ideal worlds wherever they land.  So it's not all hopeless.

This is a long one.  I appreciate you following along so far.  :)

So, to recap:
1.  First and foremost, sick perverts will victimize whomever they choose, regardless of what they are wearing.  We CANNOT teach our girls that what they wear will assure their safety or victimization.  That puts the responsibility of someone's despicable actions onto their innocent shoulders.  That's gross and it MUST stop! 
2.  You do NOT get to police your fellow people's morals.  You DO not.  You do NOT!  Stop it!  No! 
3.  Parents can and absolutely should allow their children to dress themselves.
4.  Parents can and absolutely should teach their sons impulse control and how to value girls (specifically, everyone in general) for more than their physical appearance.  How do you accomplish this?  By modeling it! 
5.  Parents can and absolutely should teach their daughters to value themselves way above and beyond their physical appearance.  If they value themselves, they will automatically be drawn to relationships that place value on more than their physical appearance.  They'll be empowered to take ownership of their own bodies and choices.
6.  Parents can and absolutely HAVE to teach consent!  And starting from a MUCH younger age than everyone thinks.  I would venture that consent starts at the very beginning - with circumcision, piercing a tiny human's ears, cutting their hair, doing "to them" and not acknowledging that they are fully conscious and fully whole people.  And then later - allowing them to choose their clothing/shoes, hairstyles/colours, when/if they hug someone in greeting.  Respecting their autonomy from the very beginning will set them up for a lifetime of being empowered over their own personhood.  (By the way, this is not at all how I parented when my offspring were young.  It is how I have parented for the last 5 years or so.  It is never too late to start fresh.  When we know better, we have an obligation to do better - especially for our children.)

The message that the Duggar scandal is sending is one that I am all too familiar with.  "God" unconditionally forgives the perpetrator and the victims remain voiceless and hidden, with no consideration afforded for their continued safety, well being and healing.  In this christian cult culture, girls don't matter.  Girls are not whole, real people.  Not like men are.  The sole purpose of a girl is to grow into a woman and serve the needs of the men in her life.  That's it.  It's no wonder that the repeating tone of these continued sex abuse scandals from this culture are all the same - it doesn't matter what happens to girls, it doesn't matter how they feel about it.  As long as they are virtuous virgins when they reach marriage and fully trained to serve their man then anything that they endured to get there is just more heavenly reward for their earthly suffering.  (Actually.  Do women get treasure in heaven?  I don't think that they are allowed to.  So scrap that.  I guess they get jack shit for their suffering and victimization.)  The overwhelming message that comes out with these seemingly unending sexual abuse stories is that anything that was actually done was always for the boy/man/perpetrator.  The victims were silenced for his sake.
Maybe that's how god's forgiveness works - it only comes at the expense of how overlooked, silenced and oppressed the victims can be made?

Who am I to talk about this?  Oh you know, just someone who spent a majority of my childhood in the same christian cult that the Duggars are in.  Just someone who was victimized in much the same way as Josh Duggar's victims.  Just someone who was told that forgiveness for being abused was mandatory.  Someone that was never acknowledged or offered any healing outlets for the trauma that I experienced.  Someone that was shown that my feelings about what I had experienced had no place to ever be discussed.  Ever.  (This is still true to this day.)  Someone who was silenced.  Someone who was a girl.  
But, I am not silent anymore.  I will speak my truth and tell my story.  Something that I believe will never be offered to Josh Duggar's victims.  There is no place in that culture for girls and their voices.