I have a six year old. I’ve raised her thus far to think little girls are not grown women. As she gets older she will earn the right to do more things like paint her nails, go out etc. At 6, she’s not ready to hit the club like it’s her birthday as best sung by good ol 50 cent. One day though she will be, but hopefully by that time I have prepared her as well as I can for life.
Shopping for girls these days is hard. The fashions are outrageous. I once saw a tube top that doubled as a mini skirt. I mean am I dressing a future baby prostitute or a child? It’s sick. I dress my daughter as age appropriate as I can, as fashion forward as I can without trying to turn her into a self obsessed monster. So imagine the difficulty in finding age appropriate shows.
She’s 6 but bores of cartoons. She’s an uber smart (to smart for her own good) kid. So although the screen shows tv shows with a G rating which are hypothetically for the general audience, I’ve found one massive reoccurring theme. Boy crazy girls that are just obsessed with boys. Okay, obviously kids grow up and start to eventually notice the opposite sex. But why are shows aimed at the general consensus of just showing boy thirsty girls? I take issues with that. Is that all we can teach girls? Granted, teaching starts at home but you can’t deny the outside influences are like subliminal Devils. Where else are girls younger and younger developing body image issues from? Instagram? Where everyone takes photos like their waiting to film their next debut with Brad Pitt. Social media. Magazines. Tv shows. This all plays a part.
People like to argue that it’s a parents fault or problem to screen and monitor their children. I agree but to a degree. I can’t raise my daughter in a bubble. There has to be some sort of accountability about what we show kids, what we put forth. How about a show about a girl who’s an A student who invents the cure for some formerly incurable disease or a show about the first girl ground breaking scientist who’s also a teenager like Dougie Howser who was a doctor at like 13? We need more shows about women and girls shattering those glass ceilings than incorporating all the dumb shit that at the end matters so minutely.
Somewhere along the road I’ve lost the basics. I lost the very essence that makes me shine. I’ve lost the light. I’ve battled in the dark for a long time. The darkness is a source of comfort. I like it there. Being in the light is difficult. Being empathetic is hard sometimes. Being tolerant of ignorance is hard sometimes. But most of all it’s harder to fake it till you make it. So this morning I sought out a photo I wanted one where through the windows of my soul I couldn’t see the torment. I wanted one photo where I could set my sights on simply going back to the basics.
I told a friend of mine the other day, that I don’t care what anyone says. Life chips at you. Eventually the pain, the trauma, the sadness cuts so deep that it changes you. Whether it jades your view, makes you tougher less sensitive to things, you change period. For myself I have changed. I’ve come to loathe people. I’ve become unsympathetic, insensitive and just cold and antisocial. I think these traits were always there. However, somehow I’ve become the poster child for ruthlessness. You can’t un-know things. You simply can’t. So if you’ve learned pain, you can’t take that back. You move on from it, you grow but it will always be there hidden in the corners, like a monster hiding from the light, straying into the shadowy corners.
I think this is what makes me read others fairly well. I recognize the broken, the wounded, the damaged, the evil. Because I’ve seen it facing the mirror myself. I don’t consider myself evil but I can be. I can be unrelentingly evil and vile and not feel remorse. I try to force myself to feel it and I can’t. I say it but the words are empty. Meaningless. I just want to try to get to the basics..
My first inclination is to run. Break out into a full on sprint, music blasting while the sidewalk pounds the soles of my feet. I’m far from conventional by any means. People say that but I mean it. My emotionless state is what makes my life so easy to deal with. If I sat there and drowned myself in emotions, I would be a hot emotional mess. So I opt to shut it down reign it in and as I tell myself suck it up buttercup. I’ve had many challenges. I’ve always surpassed them.
My fathers health is ailing and a lot of it is a result of his own doing. This doesn’t make it any easier although my strength and resilience make it seem as though it is that simple.
What I didn’t know when I wrote the paragraph above is that my dad would flatline and come back. That I would realize a hospital to be a place of a lot of sadness for those who are ailing or passing, some hope for those who are saved and some joy for those that are born.
I couldn’t do what they do on a daily basis. I couldn’t stare death in the face every single day. It’s not that I fear death necessarily it’s that I want to live. In the face of mortality I pale. I pale at the thought of what I hope to do, what I want to do and what I haven’t done. I think of death like the times I’ve had surgery. Where they give you an anesthetic lights out.. not here nor there just out…
And I don’t want to be out..
I am like a hurricane. I can’t help it. I’m a 5’5 Walking hurricane. Take no prisoners I genuinely can’t help it. I’ve told you I have a personality issue. Denial is not one of my issues. When I wrote my blog, don’t think I’m just saying my kid is great because everyone thinks their kid is great. My daughter is an asshole sometimes. In fact sometimes she’s also manipulative. However, I know her and work with her like a drill seargent because I value education. I’ve often said I will fund her future life expeditions so long as she goes to college. If she wants to find herself I’ll play along just do what you have to do and I’ll kick the cash.
My 6 year old is now in a tizzy over the prospects of being held back and now I want everyone’s head on a stick. So I did what I do best and wrote a letter. There’s an inside joke about my letters. I’ve written to probably every agency you can think of and ripped people a new one. I’ve drafted unemployment appeal letters ripping people apart. It’s a gift I suppose. So now, I’m putting them on notice. It’s the first time I hear my kid isn’t doing well enough to the point of failure. That’s not funny to me at all. So knowing the kids abilities I outlined a letter:
A few years ago I took philosophy. The interesting thing is that we got to watch The Matrix. Yes, the movie with Keanu Reeves. I had watched it before but I’ll be honest, I didn’t really watch it. When I took philosophy however, it turned everything in my life on its head. One of the first questions I had pertained to religion. I actually started asking why was I even following this? The words of a man written 80 million years ago. More importantly, the question of who said things were the way they were and why did we listen blindly to this person or people? There is a scene in the movie where a sea of people wearing black suits is stomping it’s way to work. I deciphered this as a two part message. The first, the corporate robots, the second aimed towards the sheep all following one another blindly.
I began to question everything. I couldn’t answer to myself why I believed in God. Was it because I was told to believe? Was it because I needed to believe? I don’t say this in a blasphemous manner, but I am expressing my feelings after taking philosophy. I felt as though I had blindly followed the catholic religion, practiced it without once asking well why and who said and why do we listen. Who decided who the protagonist would be in this story and that anything that went against said protagonist was wrong? I admit that my faith in a higher being has kept my head above water. Then again, I believe that we all need hope. Without hope we are lost. People have killed over religious beliefs and have been killed over beliefs. I guess at this stage of my life, I am still not all together. I don’t have any of the answers. I know that people will make you think that by 30 you should have your life together and that includes your beliefs. But life is not a straight line. Its not as simple as a straight line. You get curves, you get surprises, and sometimes you just don’t have it all together. That’s okay.
Today, I still question things. I try to live my life being the best that I can be. A lot of times I fail and I’m an epic bitch. But, when I can I do the most good that I can do for society and others as a whole. When my ticket is punched one day, all I know is that maybe I will have to face the man upstairs. When I do, I want to be able to say to him, I tried. Maybe it wasn’t my best effort ever, but for me I tried to be the best person I could be which sometimes is a challenge unto itself.
When I was younger I was a spark. I’ve once described myself as the kind of spark that is beautiful from afar but scary up close. In my heyday, those words were no exception. Growing up, I had an older couple that I called my aunt and uncle. From time to time, I lived with them and sometimes took care of the children. One time I was about 19, I was babysitting the 1 or 2 year old babies. The other kids had gone to school and the oldest had to get ready for school. I remember that I knocked on his door but he gave me a hard time.
At some point, this so called nephew of mine decided he wasn’t going to school. He was about 15 at the time. He proceeded to tell me to watch my back. Let’s stop here a moment. Kids say all sorts of crazy things sometimes and people react in different ways to these kinds of threats. Some people ignore, some people lose their shit. I lost my shit. For me, I’ll explain how I reacted. I remember that it was like switching on the lights. As he proceeded to walk himself outside I ( all 5’4 of me) chased him with a dining chair held upside down in the air while running where I was going to beat him with it. I wound up tripping over the chair that I was carrying, falling on it and breaking the leg. In a fit of rage, I tried to beat him with the leg of the chair. Mind you, this is all happening outside in broad daylight. In hindsight, not my most shining moment in life. Then again, we laugh at it now and that was the last time he ever talked back to me again. Even today, we still laugh about it now that he’s a grown ass man. He often chides me and asks if I’m going to chase him with anymore chairs. Of course, I also had to explain to my aunt and uncle why they were missing a dining room chair.. which was about as fun as a root canal. Chair aside, this is one of those cringe worthy moments of stupid shit you do when your young..
I was in the shower this morning thinking about last night. I say what I mean do what I say. My relationship with my daughters father disintegrated a long time ago. You can’t hurt someone, do shit and think that it has absolutely no ramifications. I keep a tally. Just because I’m here doesn’t mean we’re okay. Much like my blog about toxic relationships this was exactly what it was about.
I’ve told him a number of times that I hate him and meant it. I’ve wished him ill and meant it. He’s done things that there is no coming back from. I’ve stayed as long as I have because of my daughter, the irony is i know I have to leave because of her too. This mornings realization was that my relationship is like a friend that picks you up for a ride then drives you straight into a wall. They don’t apologize do something nice and then do this again and again. They think that they are redeemed by doing something nice after they’ve driven you straight into a wall time and time again until you say fuck that I’m not going for a ride anymore and then they get mad at you for it. The only unconditional love I know is for my daughter. If that exists in relationships feel free and let me know.
I don’t think you should feel dread before you get home, I don’t think that you should feel peace when your supposed other half is not around. You should feel excited or at least happy to be able to share your day with your other half. Communication should not be like speaking two different languages. My life is easy when he is not around, that’s a tragedy. Because how can I miss someone that complicates my life and not in a positive way? It’s simple you can’t. Especially when the person causing the strife doesn’t feel like they need to change. When they think they’re the table but instead they’re the stoppers on the table. Either way I’m on the way to work blasting happy Pharrell. Happiness is a choice and I choose to be happy this morning.