From a young age, I was conditioned to compare myself to others. It started with my twin brother. I noticed how, as we grew, we were treated differently; first by our mom and dad, then relatives, then friends, then, the world at large. 

By the time I was a teen, I was comparing myself to everyone; my parents, my friends, the other kids in my classes, I was measuring my worth against the perceived value and happiness others seemed to enjoy. 

It is not that my life was miserable, but in my comparisons, I focused on what I did not have, on my lack. I was focusing on what made me uncomfortable, and the more I focused on that stuff, the more painful and controlling it became. All I would need is the presence of a pretty girl and my confidence would spiral downward.

It was an emotional cycle that was eventually triggered by ads, television shows and movies, telling me I was either too fat, too ugly, that my hair was too straight, or my nose was too big. I wasn't like other girls, which was obviously a huge problem, and for some reason, I thought they were all in this big club of popularity and happiness. I assumed that my feeling of lack meant that they were happy. I was too scared to admit to it, too frightened to admit to what I saw as my shortcomings. So it was a secret I kept. A secret, it turns out, many of us were keeping.

It took a long time to break this cycle, and if I am being honest, it is still a bit of a struggle for me to focus on my heart, my strength, my beauty. I have to focus. I have to pay attention. 

Anyone who has engaged in a life knows it is not easy. I don't think anyone has escaped the experience of being in a group of friends, pretending to be okay. It is the opposite of human, creating these artifices to mask our insecurities so that our entire experience of being human is artifice. There is no way to feel powerful when you are constantly protecting yourself. There is no way to confidence if your protective shield blocks your vision of it.

I recently had an experience where I suddenly saw someone, not as he wanted to be seen, but as he was, and how he was creating a mask to cover that person. It came through in a lie and surfaced as an excuse for that lie, and I knew instantly of his frailty, and in that moment, felt my own. I understood what he expected of himself, maybe even what he thought I expected of him, but could not be. It created an instant impossibility; that I might never know him, but it also reminded me of my own artifice, and what I do to maintain it. Who I keep at arms length in its maintenance.

It is a long road to vulnerability, to being who you are, admitting to what you can and cannot do, when everything around you feels inhuman. When everything around you feels like artifice. But artifice is frail. And what people want, I believe, is a show of good faith in the form of your humanity. It is the hardest thing to do when you grow up comparing, It is the most challenging thing to stop trying to "measure up." But it is vital. It is necessary if any progress is to be made.

Be real. It will help others be real. It will help you to know yourself. It might be the signal that someone is waiting for. It might be what someone else needs to be inspired to be less artifice, and more authentic.

Your power rests in your ability to know yourself. Your strength lies in the confidence you have in who you actually are, not in the mask you have created for yourself so that the world might feel comfort with your presence. Do not waste time trying to measure up, but spend time residing in who you are. You are worthy of that. You are worthy of your humanity. 

​"Dear White Men, I promise, when women rise to power, 
you will never be treated the same way I have always been treated. 
With love and gratitude, Me."
 
I posted this "love note" on my FB wall the other day to see how people would react. Ever since the Million Woman March, I had been noticing all of the conflict happening between people who I assumed were on "the same side". I had seen women of color lashing out against white women, white women lashing out against men, white men lashing out at the white women who had voted for number 45, and white men lashing out anytime any woman mentioned sexism. Everyone was talking, and no one was listening. Amidst some of the worst days of anyone's life as a citizen of the US, we were all fighting amongst ourselves.
 
Almost immediately after I posted it, a white man who I have had some pretty intelligent conversations with, replied and let me know that it is not white men that are the problem, but the four or five families that control everything and pit us against each other, and that he personally had never done anything to me. Plus that, he added, he himself had been oppressed in ways that I would never understand. A response from yet another white man was to let me know how disappointed he was in me then unfriend and block me. Fortunately, I did get many likes, some supportive and encouraging replies from other white men who were hoping women would rise to power sooner than later.
 
This was not my sick idea of a way to piss people off on Facebook. This was something I thought might make something clear that I had been pondering for quite some time; that no matter how painful your oppression, be it sexism, racism, homophobia or what have you, has been, there will always be someone who believes that their oppression and their pain resulting from that oppression is worse. This is the language of the oppressed.
 
This is the language that keeps us divided. Why is it so effective? Because it is institutional, it is ingrained in our blood and bones, and for those of us who have suffered, we know that there is no help coming because our society supports it. No one has escaped this treatement. No one. And no one has ever figured out a way to get passed it. No one has ever dreamed that this could change. 
 
But there is hope. There is a way to combat this. There is a way to fight the forces that keep us arguing amongst ourselves..
 
You know that feeling you get, when someone talks about being treated horribly due to their gender/race/ethnicity/religion/lifestyle/food allergies? That feeling that you, too have been oppressed, and the pain that jumps up into your chest and pushes you to shut down anyone claiming their pain over oppression? Because no one was there to help you? No one was there to bring justice to your personal attrocity? 
 
That feeing is not empathy. That feeling is the unresolved pain you have been forced to carry around with you every day of your life. That pain is the pain we all carry because no one, save a very few, has escpaed this oppression. And your defensiveness, your anger that another person thinks they have the right to complain? That is what is keeping you from finding any kind of common ground. 
 
We have to stop behaving as if our pain is more valid than anyone else's. We have to stop behaving as if the oppression we have faced is unique. We have to understand that every last one of us has been participating in an oppressive system, and the only way out is empathy. The only way out is love. If you can sit with a person, listen to their story, feel their pain, put your arm around them and let them know that you hear them, you are making strides. If you can handle it when someone shuts you down after you have told them your story of oppression, if you can turn that conversation around, you are healing all of us.
 
But nothing will be resolved if we keep behaving is if our own pain in some way makes us blameless. It does not. We will not make any progress if every time a person tells their story, they are silenced by others who have been similarly oppressed. We must understand that we are ALL responsible for this, and we must ALL stand for each other. That is the only way this will work, and it will take the kind of vigilance that will train your heart for the long haul.
 
For too long we have been killing each other over nothing. For too long, we have believed that we are victims and someone must pay. This is the behavior of the oppressed, and to stop this oppression, we must stop oppressing each other, and instead, all this pain. Allow for the possibility that we are all participants, and in order to change it, we must stop participating. We must stand with each other, not fight over who is the biggest victim.

There I was, telling yet another person that while I might look masculine,(aka male-like), I am indeed a woman. That even though this unique individual with very special qualities thought my body to be too hairy, too muscle-y and my attitude far too aggressive, I am indeed, female. But, such is the life of the person I have always wanted to be.

My body is an expression, in part, of who I am; an active, progressive individual who is constantly seeking out ways in which to grow and express my belief in individuality and personal freedom.

This dude was expressing his doubts about his own masculinity, and looking at me, unfortunately, brought that out in him. Which I took as a very good sign. For me. Not at all for him.

I am not the cause of his doubt, his pain, or his concern over whether or not he is perceived as masculine. No. And while this interaction was a bit annoying, it did get me to thinking about just how much we are conditioned to rely on external cues to tell us who we should be. I mean, it varies from person to person, obviously, but the reality is that if I relied on external cues as to how I should dress, what I should eat, how I should express myself, etc., I would never have been able to calmly explain to that unique and special individual about my female-ness.

In fact, his questioning of my unique and fantastic look is a perfect example of how dangerous it is to create your personae based on what the world expects of you. If all it takes to rattle that guy is my appearance in his life, then he is weak indeed. If he bothered me, this stranger I had barely known for a second (in geologic time, anyway), then I would have to reconsider how I am making my choices. I would have to reconsider the whole of me. 

But I am not. I am stronger than the surface of my skin or the shape of my body. I am stronger because I decided a long time ago to make conscious choices about the way I would live. Not based on someone else's idea of who I should be, but my own, which I formed as I moved through the world. It has taken a long time, and I am happy to say, I am still forming. That is part of what I have chosen. To give myself room to change and leave my mind open to new forms of thought. 

For too long we have been judging each other on appearance. That is what we have been taught to do, after all. We have been conditioned to believe certain things about people based on what they look like, where they come from, and whatever religion to which they adhere. And now it is time to stop. You might be wondering how. I have some suggestions which you might try. But go slow. This type of conditioning can be painful to undo.

• Go out and meet new people who look just like people you have been taught to fear
• Travel to other countries
• Read things written by people with a different perspective than your own
• Stop believing what people tell you about others; if you want to know the truth of someone, ask them
• Read fiction, short or long (religious texts are included in this category)
• Stop believing politicians. They are all liars. 
• Stop watching TV. If cold turkey is too much, cut back and get involved in your community in some way
• Travel around your own country; you might just be surprised
• Listen more than you speak
• If you get into an argument, try with all your might to see the other person's side

That was just off the top of my head, but I think it gives you quite a bit to chew on, and some of those aren't even that challenging.

Part of loving and accepting your body and your life is knowing that you have created it. It is knowing that you have made choices to be where you are, and if you don't like it, you can make choices to change it. The last thing you should be worried about is your own masculinity if someone you know has, in your opinion, too much body hair. You have WAY MORE important things to think about. You have so much more you could do.

Loving yourself is a strength that gives you the power to be whoever the fuck you want. When you see it in someone else, acknowledge it. Praise it. Let them know you are impressed. Because it is the hardest thing you can do when you live in a society that profits from your self-doubt. It is the most productive thing you can do for yourself and your society to do everything you can to make yourself in to the human you want to be, not the human anyone is expecting you to be. 

Just by being yourself, you inspire others to do the same. 

If you have a friend, relative, or someone that inspires you in this way, thank them. It is not easy to do what they are doing in this world, and if they have made a difference in your life, they should know it. 

In the mean time, be as much of you as you can be for as long as you can handle it. I know it is hard and scary and feels really awkward. But that is how it is supposed to feel in an environment engineered to encourage conformity. You don't have to be angry or violent about your endeavors to be you. It is just as easy to do it quietly, in fact, it is probably way easier. But do it. Try it. Just one small thing, and see how that feels. 

I have a feeling it just might feel fantastic.

I just finished watching Room. Quite touching. I won't spoil anything for you, except to say that sometimes, when you leave a bad situation in search of a good one, you bring pieces of that bad situation along with you. 

Every year around this time, I get sad. It was ten years ago on Valentines day that my dad died. I had a very strong relationship with him. There are times that I feel like I could really be myself with him. Like he was the one person who really understood me, really accepted me. But that is not entirely the truth.

The truth is that my dad was always leaving, and when I could catch him, I had to bend myself into different shapes in order to fit into his life. I would accept bad treatment from his wife, a strange kind of hands-off behavior from him, all so I could be around him. All so that I could feel like I was loved. Well, some sort of love, anyway.

In essence, this was my room. You know what I mean if you saw the movie. If you didn't, I am sorry, but this is the metaphor I am going with this year. Next year I will write about this again and I will use some other metaphor to which you might relate.

The truth is that I worked hard to make him love me. I chased him. I worked along side him. I outwardly agreed with him when inside, I might have been screaming, "NOOOOOOO!"

​After that first and foundational relationship, I kinda believed that was what love was, twisting myself into whatever shape I had to in order to be loved. I would endure the pain and the sadness of not really feeling like I was good enough just as I was, all the while working to be different to earn that love. I would do this until I had enough, then I would leave.

I have known for some time that I no longer want this type of love. I want the type of love that meets me where I am. I want the type of love that accepts my freakish behavior, my passionate beliefs, my irreverence. I want the type of love that I do not have to earn. But I keep picking the kind I have to work for. Or working for the love I already have. I find myself bending and twisting, maybe less than I used to, but still, the love I choose is not meeting me where I am. 

It feels like if I do demand the type I want, the safety net that I have so carefully constructed over the last forty years will evaporate, and I will be swinging on a love trapeze without anything below to catch me when I fall. 

It is scary to want to be seen. It is frightening to have to say, after so much time bending, that I would rather stand up straight, shoulders back. 

It has been said that people change when the pain of not changing becomes too great. That change will happen when that pain becomes unbearable. But I think in my situation, it is not that it is unbearable. I can bear it. I just feel like the burden has worn out its welcome. That my bones, muscles and sinew ache from the shapes into which I twist myself. Over and over.

Every year at this time, I am reminded. I don't have to do this anymore. I didn't have to do it then. 

I just have to choose differently.

I have to choose to let love meet me.

"I am actually completely paralyzed because of the present state of affairs. I mean, there is so much I could do that I am stuck into doing absolutely nothing. I want to do something, but I feel like it is just overwhelming."

This was my friend's reply the other day when I told her what I was doing to stick it to the man. I totally get it. The amount of fucked up shit in the world has in one way or another been revealed and it turns out that even the most cynical of us are quite surprised at the level of shittiness there is at every level of society.

Some of it might make you feel like you should have started sooner, maybe you should have seen your own hand in the bullshit that is keeping everyone down. Maybe you, in your own way have been oppressed for years and you didn't even know it. That shit happens. You gotta accept it and then move the fuck past it. 

The good news is that it is relatively simple to stick it to the man. All you have to do is focus on what elements around you cause you to doubt yourself, and reject or eradicate them from your life. You have to learn to spot what in our society causes you to believe that you need to be improved in some way. You have to learn to reject the idea that your hair, your skin, or your ass is considered a "flaw". This, quite frankly, is Manspeak. Not, as in all males on the planet, manspeak, no. This Manspeak is the type of language that keeps everyone down. This is the Manspeak that has you believing that you are beneath some and above others in the world due to your class, your gender, your profession, your ethnicity, your ability to use your right arm. No matter what your particular flavor of freak, there is some line of bullshit out there telling you that you are wrong. That, my friend, is Manspeak, with a capital M.

This is the language of the great brainwashed. This Manspeak is the language that keeps you believing that you are less than, and it trains you into believing that being treated like you are less than is appropriate. What's worse, it trains you into believing that other people are better or worse than you. It is the best thing you can do to learn to spot it and reject it. It is the best thing you can do to work towards understanding on a very basic level, that you are very unique, quite special actually, and so is everyone around you. 

Sound like hippie love bullshit? Well, that might or might not be true, but the world is fucked right now, and we have gotten ourselves here in part, by feeling the need to put people down so that we might feel like we are better. We are here because we believe the lie that someone else told us; that we are in need of repair. That we are in need of fixing. That in some way, we are less than. 

You might be sitting there thinking that you don't fall into that category, and that might be true, but then you have to ask yourself, what makes you angry? I used to get very, very angry at dumb blonde jokes. In fact, I walked out of a yoga class once because at the beginning of class the yoga teacher told a dumb blonde joke. I took it personally because I am blonde. Of course, I am in no way stupid, and in actuality, that joke said much more about the person telling it than it did about the people hearing it, no matter what their hair color, but nonetheless, I became enraged. That, I came to realize, is the power that Manspeak has. It causes me to lose control. It causes me to be angry at the brainwashed person who told that joke. 

The reality is that there is nothing to be angry about because that joke, no matter how true or untrue it is, does not have the power to make me angry unless I give it that power.

It is the same with the many men I have worked with who were threatened by my presence to such an extent that they would backstab, badmouth, or otherwise undermine my efforts. I only realized my power when I stopped giving them the energy of engaged conflict. I only felt truly free when I stopped acknowledging them when they played their games. I only glimpsed the nature of my level of brainwash when I was able to function in my work environment without being bothered by their efforts. 

The world around you changes when you let go of the need to judge yourself and others. It is a kinder more wonderful world full of opportunity and freedom. Make no mistake, while this is a small change, it is NOT an easy change. Everyone is brainwashed. Our language is tied up in hierarchy. Our society runs on the fuel of oppression and patriarchal manipulation. But this is something anyone can do without much fuss because it is about awareness. It is about reflection, and the best part, it is about getting to a place where you can really love and appreciate yourself more. 

In a word, it is the type of freedom that is infectious. If you have ever been around someone who does not judge, who allows you to be just who you are, you know. The air around these people is sweeter, colors or more vibrant, and all sound is music to your ears. You can relax around these people. 

So start small. Give it a try. What more can you love about yourself? What have you been told is a "flaw"? What have you been told to change so that you can be more palatable to others? Either through diets, make-overs, plastic surgery, or just the language of Manspeak. 

Reject all notions of improvement and focus on how cool you are. Focus on how awesomely freaky you are. Focus on how even your shittiness can serve you. 

None of us are all good or all bad, and the less we believe that we are innately damaged, and the more we believe that we are innately fantastic, we will see the whole world improve.

​Remember, they only have the power that you give to them. It is time to keep your power for yourself and in doing so, Stick it to The Man.

I love post cards. Especially the funny ones with a vintage feel. I was in an INDEPENDENT BOOKSTORE the other day looking at some amazing and witty cards, trying to choose some good ones to send to my brothers, and to my surprise, I found one among them that kinda freaked me out. It stated in words and pictures that most perfumes contain petroleum and other ingredients that are quite damaging to the human body. 

I mean, I am not a perfume lady. I don't wear cosmetics. I bathe infrequently. I use unscented detergent. So..it is not like this is a surprise as much as it is a confirmation, but I immediately accessed my body positive mind and decided to do some research. Because, hey, why not freak myself out even more than I already have? That's my motto. My other motto, which I use less frequently, but in its own way, is even more profound, is:

If I can't smell you, I can't trust you. 

I have, in my short time on this planet, dated a lot of people, and in my many experiences, I can tell you, most often, if someone is masking their breath with gum, or their body odor with cologne or perfume, it is a red flag.

I know what you are thinking. You love the way that shit smells! You love smelling the lavender or rose or whatever you spray on yourself every day! I get it, I really do. But unfortunately, if you are using any kind of commercial perfume or cologne, you are also poisoning your body. 

​As part of my research, I stumbled upon this article in Scientific American, which outlines pretty broadly some of the damage that the chemicals in perfumes can cause, and what's more, due to a "secret recipe in perfume" law enacted in the 70s, (I know it sounds ridiculous, but it is true), the destructive ingredients don't even have to be listed. I then went to safe cosmetics dot org and found a great resource on poisonous stuff in make-up. 

The reality is that you very well could be putting stuff in and on your body without having all the information that you need to make a good decision. You see something on a grocery store shelf, and you trust it, because of the FDA and whatnot. The reality is that there is no protection. And much like my rule about dating, whatever is in your food, your beauty products or your cleaners that is emmitting that lemon or lavender or that victorian rose scent might just be masking something else that will disrupt your hormones, cause some type of cancer or degenerative disease, destroy your sperm count, or keep you from getting an erection. 

I know what you are thinking. You could just as easily be hit by a bus. You could just as easily choke on a piece of organic chicken. These things are true, I will give you that, but there is one explicit and important difference: Choking on chicken or getting hit by a bus are not events orchestrated by The Man. Yes, you could die of anything else just as easily, but the reality is that ingredients are kept from you because it is more profitable for you to eat them and use them, because then, you are also someone who will need to have health care, which is outrageously expensive in the US, as is any type of medication or any type of insurance covering these things. You see, they are all related; you eating toxic food and using toxic chemicals on your body, and the "medicine" required to treat the symptoms. 

It is horrible to even think that you are more profitable when you are sick, but that is what this system, the USA system of exploiting the little people, is all about. The Man does not want you healthy because there is no profit in that. 

This is why I have chosen the things I have: where I live, how I get around, what I wear, how I clean, how I eat. Because I know that my body will not be cared for unless I am the one doing the caretaking. So the next time you decide to use anything on or in your body, it might be worth considering where it came from, who made it, and what is in it. 

Your body is yours to care for, and it is capable of yielding great things for you if you do so. But is also an instrument that The Man will use to enslave you. If you don't believe me, consider that one in five working americans has problems with medical debt. One in five. I found that statistic, along with many others, HERE.

So when considering how to love your body, remember, the best way to express love is care. Make choices that show your body that you care. Eat well. Use cruelty and fragrance free products. If you want to smell good, use essential oils from reputable companies. Those will not only not hurt you, in many cases, they are actually beneficial in one way or another.

And always remember, the best way to Stick it to The Man is to not play his game. His game is dirty, underhanded and manipulative. The less time, energy and money you put toward that game, the better.

Power to The People. Love your body fiercely, and by any means necessary.