(no subject)
As 2009 sputters and chokes on its last breath, I am left looking in at myself and wanting. It's been a year of pretty extraordinary highs and lows for me.
The victories:
Having the theater troupe I direct win best in the Midwest at the 2009 Chicago Improv Festival
Winning the best film of the semester award for "We Men Mean It, Women!"
Receiving my first A+ in college for my documentary class, and Jewish nose documentary
Having a pretty baller time in New York this summer, including a great performance at the UCB Theater
Writing my first feature length screenplay
Having a peaceful and happy home for the first time at school, with a cat no less
Receiving a 4.0 for last semester
Getting myself from Ohio to DC to New York on my own
Meeting new people that I love, reinforcing old friendships that are meaningful to me
Applying for the Fulbright
Being smart about my crushes
And the defeats:
Not dealing adequately with my sexual assault
Not confronting N about how much his actions shocked and hurt me
Getting stood up multiple times and being okay with it
Losing faith in men (see all of the above)
Having a backslide with my PCOS symptoms
Being incredibly angry with every medical professional I've seen this year
Not getting the internship I wanted
Not knowing how to control my rage, and identifying when I absolutely need to use it
Having a horrible time abroad
Not being smart about people who have a crush on me
A mixed bag. Always, always a mixed bag. It is my ever-continuing goal to unify the parts of me that don't fit, those two odd-shaped pieces that are inevitably left over after assembling furniture. These are the parts of me I would leave out of the easy installation kit: PCOS and anger. Two things which have a lot to do with one another. And two things without which I would like to construct myself one day. I'm on a laundry list of pills for the former, but I don't think anyone can prescribe a pill for the latter.
I realized last night that this year my body has been treated with far more violence than care. More assaultive touch than loving touch. Between the knife against my neck and thigh, groping on the subway, callous medical exams, getting punched in the face, and having the man next to me at a restaurant masturbate and watch me, I can fill one side of the scale with the forceful way I have been treated in 2009. On the other side I fill more lovingly. I have had hugs from friends and family, a puppy falling asleep against me, a soft kiss on my upper lip and two big hands that washed my hair after respectful and safe sex. Brilliant, beautiful, and fleeting.
After all of this goes into the pot together I am left with discordant tastes, acrid and sweet. I do not believe that men are essentially good because I believe that men are essentially powerful. Indeed, I do have many male friends for whom I have tremendous respect and admiration (and not just gay ones, either!). I delight in their company. Same too for the men in my family and my professors. But the power that men are given predisposes them to bad behavior, and from the time I was 10 my body has been subjected to it. I believe women are essentially good. Not because of any innate quality, and God knows I know a lot of idiots and bitches, but our disenfranchisement stands us in good stead. I'm sorry if this makes men upset, but the track record speaks for itself. I don't trust men, in general, to come through for me. That's been the prevailing wisdom of this year.
The victories:
Having the theater troupe I direct win best in the Midwest at the 2009 Chicago Improv Festival
Winning the best film of the semester award for "We Men Mean It, Women!"
Receiving my first A+ in college for my documentary class, and Jewish nose documentary
Having a pretty baller time in New York this summer, including a great performance at the UCB Theater
Writing my first feature length screenplay
Having a peaceful and happy home for the first time at school, with a cat no less
Receiving a 4.0 for last semester
Getting myself from Ohio to DC to New York on my own
Meeting new people that I love, reinforcing old friendships that are meaningful to me
Applying for the Fulbright
Being smart about my crushes
And the defeats:
Not dealing adequately with my sexual assault
Not confronting N about how much his actions shocked and hurt me
Getting stood up multiple times and being okay with it
Losing faith in men (see all of the above)
Having a backslide with my PCOS symptoms
Being incredibly angry with every medical professional I've seen this year
Not getting the internship I wanted
Not knowing how to control my rage, and identifying when I absolutely need to use it
Having a horrible time abroad
Not being smart about people who have a crush on me
A mixed bag. Always, always a mixed bag. It is my ever-continuing goal to unify the parts of me that don't fit, those two odd-shaped pieces that are inevitably left over after assembling furniture. These are the parts of me I would leave out of the easy installation kit: PCOS and anger. Two things which have a lot to do with one another. And two things without which I would like to construct myself one day. I'm on a laundry list of pills for the former, but I don't think anyone can prescribe a pill for the latter.
I realized last night that this year my body has been treated with far more violence than care. More assaultive touch than loving touch. Between the knife against my neck and thigh, groping on the subway, callous medical exams, getting punched in the face, and having the man next to me at a restaurant masturbate and watch me, I can fill one side of the scale with the forceful way I have been treated in 2009. On the other side I fill more lovingly. I have had hugs from friends and family, a puppy falling asleep against me, a soft kiss on my upper lip and two big hands that washed my hair after respectful and safe sex. Brilliant, beautiful, and fleeting.
After all of this goes into the pot together I am left with discordant tastes, acrid and sweet. I do not believe that men are essentially good because I believe that men are essentially powerful. Indeed, I do have many male friends for whom I have tremendous respect and admiration (and not just gay ones, either!). I delight in their company. Same too for the men in my family and my professors. But the power that men are given predisposes them to bad behavior, and from the time I was 10 my body has been subjected to it. I believe women are essentially good. Not because of any innate quality, and God knows I know a lot of idiots and bitches, but our disenfranchisement stands us in good stead. I'm sorry if this makes men upset, but the track record speaks for itself. I don't trust men, in general, to come through for me. That's been the prevailing wisdom of this year.