What is YOUR problem?

I was raised to be accepting of myself and others. What some might call a Tom Boy. The girl in Grade 4 that tried to start a wrestling club, but was not aloud as "Girls did not wrestle." Besides this I did not very often have anyone tell me girls can not do that. I never really thought much about the differences between males and females, until I was probably 33 or 34, and tried to get into business. As I slowly tried to break into the world of big money I slowly noticed that people were not taking me seriously, that my ideas did not seem to matter.

As I continued to peruse this path I began to meet men that thought that they should date me, so that I could do all of the thinking and they could do all of the talking. I was surprised and in all honesty, hurt. Slowly my male friends began to disappear. Either by my choice or theirs, and when I tried to speak I no longer sounded like myself. It was and is scary, terribly scary. Because I believe in my right to be an autonomous person that speaks for myself I feel like I am slowly disappearing. I do not notice it as much when I spend time on my own which has been a lot over the last decade, but lately I have been making attempts to be more social, I might ad with disastrous results. Not only do I not sound like myself when I open my mouth, but I leave often feel disillusioned, and hurt.

Years ago initially I thought this was coming from the men, that it was the men that were being so cruel and isolating to me. I have learned differently today. I do not like to use generalized statements so I will not, I believe there are many women out there that still care about me, at least I hope there are. Regardless I have learned a lot about women in the last 12 years, especially about older women, not all, but enough to notice.

This woman I was wwoofing for this spring, a work stay, told me that I was not aloud to talk to her husband. It was the three of us on the farm initially. I forgave her and liked her up to that point. Than the other woofer came, who I did not like, as he was a fool. Lets just say the position did not last long. Can you imagine inviting someone into your home, and after being there for two days, doing absolutely nothing wrong, being told to not speak to the male of the house. Talk about heartbreak.

My 78 year old aunt does not like to let me speak to her 78 year old husband. By not let, I mean she runs the conversation and if I try to include him, she barrels right over everyone. It is sad, and in all honesty it is scary. This is my interpretation of the situation. I am not sure why this occurs but it does, and it saddens me. Not only for me, but for him as well. He is a little different. Asperger's one might say, and I believe that he is quite lonely, not that he would ever admit it to anyone. Anyways again another blog.

Back to what elicited this rant today. This afternoon I was down at the Gay Pride Festival of all places, and I had a conversation with a woman that I had just met recently. I took my "I get consent" button. And did a Consent Quiz. Over the years as most single independent people have, unfortunately in this crazy world we live in today, had unwanted and sexual advances that have turned into sexual assaults. I know I am not alone in this, it has not broken me nor do I feel any shame regarding these horrible events so I share openly. These people that took advantage of me when I was under the influence, or drugged me are not healthy people and it is no reflection up on myself. They are the broken ones not I. Anyways I was chuckling as answered the questions and said to the hosts, "My goodness I hope to dear god that I do not get any of these questions wrong. I would be so embarrassed." As I said 100%. I hoped that I would not get anything wrong as just because I am a woman and have been a victim does not mean that I could not be a perpetrator and I would never want to disrespect another as I have been disrespected.

Earlier in the day, in front of quite a large group of people, she had mentioned that I might want to do a button up. I said, "Actually I do not, but thank you very much." and left it at that. Later before we hit the festival she apologized. I told her it was unnecessary as I respect other peoples cultures and their right to voice their opinions and I meant it. As an after thought I genuinely hope that she was not offended by my presence.

I said, "We were at the Gay Pride "of all places"", because my understanding of Gay Pride is different than hers. My understanding of gay pride is the right for people to be, like and love whom they choose in an nonjudgmental fashion. I guess as a heterosexual this is not true. Not for her anyways. Only gay people are aloud to have a button undone low enough to show a frill on a bra or speak openly with anyone about what they choose. I would like to ad that this rant is using her as a pivotal moment, and a pivotal discussion and afternoon, there is no contempt or malintent in my writing of this.

So we stood in the sweltering sun, surrounded by young people, children and the odd blue haired person enjoying themselves. We gathered our hamburgers and I found us a spot so that she could sit in the shade and I could sit in the sun. I had not spoken to her much over the last 3 weeks, but she is in a circle that I happen to travel in on occasion, and the afternoon had occured organically.

Lunch conversation was light, and interesting and then I mentioned to her that I was having troubles with someone who is male and that is by no choice of my own in close proximity to my life as of late. I do not know him well, so this is not judgement upon his true character but we are having a very hard time communicating, he is my roommate. She suggested that maybe he was attracted to me. I said, "So What! That is not my problem."

She went on to say in an indirect fashion that if I was speaking to a male that I was leading him on. I questioned her opinions and thoughts regarding this. She proceeded to tell me that I was not normal, because I was beautiful and had a vivacious and upbeat personality. I had to say thank you, and felt that someone had just punched me in the stomach. All the years of being held down, not being allowed to attain my goals and dreams, came rushing back to me. Yes I have been objectified, and disrespected in discusting fashion over the years, but how could this tye-died beat nick, woman, who appears to be evolved suggest that because I am attractive, that having a conversation with the opposite sex could appear that I was leading them on, at the Gay Pride Festival, of all places.

Needless to say, I shortly packed up my belongings, and was about to head off to the bus stop when she asked if I wanted a ride home. I of course accepted, it was a sweltering hot day, and I was grateful for the ride. I in some way felt that she was judging me for this as well. She new that I knew we did not agree, and yet I was still accepting assistance from her. What she does not know is that although we do not agree and she thinks badly of me, I do not think badly of her. Did it bring hurtful memories to the surface for me? Yes. Did I go home and cry? Yes. Am I a big enough person to admit this? Yes.

All I can say at this point is shame! Shame on you world. I know that I am not the only person or gender that goes through this. At times in my life I had been made to look like a hoar, for being a single independent strong woman, by people I thought were my friends, by family for that matter. I was wrong they were not my friends, and they were not my family. Family are the people we choose, not people that intentionally hurt and play with us. Yes, this has occurred more often than not by men, but at times instigated by woman. Women and men that try to keep control of a world that is not theirs to meddle in, be it my existence and how I should live my life. This I will leave for another blog. I forgive them. I forgive them all. It is completely their stuff. There lack of authentic self, there damage, not mine. I believe that as a beautiful, kind, good and strong person, I should be allowed to talk to whomever I choose.

When I got home I spoke to my roommate, not about us and our struggles with communication, but with the conversation I had had today and whether or not he agreed with this woman. I have no idea if my roommate is attracted to me or not, and if he is, if he is having issues around this and as I said I do not care. What I care about is that I am able to communicate in a healthy way with the people around me. And right now I am not I am not able to, obviuosly some failing of my own, but painful none the less. He simply stated that people are entitled to their opinion, and left it at that. I am not sure what he thinks on this subject and I could tell he did not wish to discuss it any further, but I appreciated being heard.

As I was talking to him thoughts were going through my head. I was thinking about how my father would not let me mother work after I was born, how this caused her to leave him, and how her next husband would not allow my mother to get a masters degree because then he would be on the same level as him. My mother was a beautiful, strong, powerful woman, that slowly through her life had this taken away from her. Eventually she died at 62 of a heart attack brought on by alcoholism. I do not want this to be my story. A woman beaten down by the world, broken, by the men and women that she tried to fairly compete with that dumped their judgement on her.

I do not know which direction I am to go now, as a strong powerful woman. I seem right now to be surrounded by people that think it is inappropriate to wear a skirt with a slit, or to have a button low enough to show cleavage. Although my mother went through all of this, I was raised by men that treated me in a healthy fashion. I was not sexually assaulted or abused in my youth, not until I stood up as a strong independent woman, as a woman. I am confused about what we are trying to teach are children and how we are going about doing it.

I know that just because I am a woman that this idiocy does not only effect me. I know that this also effects men.

I am now going to send this email out to 800 people like I do every time I blog. I will probably get the two responses I get every time I send it out. I do not make money off of this blog, why would I bother to try. No one reads it, and if they do, they dont respond. I hope it at least illicits some thoughts of positive growth. That is what I am trying to do, not just for myself but for all of us.

I would like to leave this rant with a poem written by Mayou Angelou a civil rights activist and a a good friend to Martin Luther King Jr in the 60's. She came to me in my dreams the night of her death. Reminding me to rise. I wish I had the poise and the ability to say it like she did, but at this moment steeped in the worlds judgement. I fail her, so I will leave you with her poem. Wishing you all well, and peaceful tiimes.

Still I Rise

Maya Angelou, 1928 - 2014

You may write me down in history With your bitter, twisted lies,

You may trod me in the very dirt

But still, like dust, I’ll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?

Why are you beset with gloom? ‘

Cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,

With the certainty of tides,

Just like hopes springing high,

Still I’ll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?

Bowed head and lowered eyes?

Shoulders falling down like teardrops,

Weakened by my soulful cries?

Does my haughtiness offend you?

Don’t you take it awful hard ‘

Cause I laugh like I’ve got gold mines

Diggin’ in my own backyard.

You may shoot me with your words,

You may cut me with your eyes,

You may kill me with your hatefulness,

But still, like air, I’ll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?

Does it come as a surprise

That I dance like I’ve got diamonds

At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history’s shame

I rise

Up from a past that’s rooted in pain

I rise

I’m a black ocean, leaping and wide,

Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.

Leaving behind nights of terror and fear

I rise

Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear

I rise

Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,

I am the dream and the hope of the slave.

I rise

I rise

I rise.

From And Still I Rise

by Maya Angelou. Copyright © 1978 by Maya Angelou. Reprinted by permission of Random House