Gender Hypocrisy Pt 1

As kids, we're all told we can be who we want to be, do what we want to do, the world is our oyster (or shellfish of choice).

And yet, from the second we're born, the vast majority of us are immediately pigeon-holed due to what's between our legs. Baby girls get pink and yellow nurseries with birds and bunnies and dolls. Baby boys get blue and green nurseries with cars and spaceships. Baby girls get little dresses and babygrows, and baby boys get dungarees and onesies. Never mind the fact that just over 100 years ago, blue was considered "soft and feminine" and pink was "stronger and therefore masculine", or that boys and girls both wore dresses until they reached schooling age.

As a little girl, you played with dolls and my little ponies, kitchen sets and jewellery sets. Because why would a GIRL ever want to play with cars or mechano or lego? Why would she ever want to try and build something interesting when there's fake makeup to play with? Why would she ever want to play with something that also develops her mind, and doesn't emphasis her looks?

As a little boy, you played with guns and GI Joe, mechano and doctor kits. Because why would a BOY ever want to play house or dress up? Why would a boy ever want to do something like pretend to be a dad when there's killing games to play?

Apparently it's more acceptable for a boy to play with a male "action figure" and simulate death and fighting, than to play with a Barbie and simulate a domestic setting. I wonder how the fact of playing with a feminine simulacrum would "cause" gayness, as some people seem to think?

Why is it that only girls can play at being nurturing and loving and caring, and only boys can play at adventuring and building and fighting? 

I have a small secret

Growing up, I had a very very bestest friend. We lived down the road from each other, and consequently spent all our time at each others' houses, as friends are wont to do.

We had regular sleepovers and play dates and watched movies and played with our dolls and just generally had a good, girly time.

Childhood Friend had a brother who was, if I remember correctly, 2 - 3 years older than us. He was rather like an annoying bug in the background of our friendship, which I'm assuming is what older brothers do.

When I was 10, I started to grow boobs. I found it completely mortifying, as I was the only girl in my year to get them. It was horrible, even though they were just tiny little bee-sting swellings on my chest, as I got teased for it quite a bit.

When I was around 12 years old, CF had a party at her house, which I obviously attended, since we were joined at the hip. Duh. I slept over at her house that night. As I always did, I slept on a mattress on the floor next to her bed.

I don't know why I woke up that night, but I did. I'm not sure if there was a noise, or my subconcious knew something was off, but all of a sudden, I was startled to a wary wakefulness. I couldn't see anything, as it was dark, but somehow I sensed tension. My heart was thrumming in my throat as my eyes uselessly darted this way and that, trying to find something in the blackness of the room.

A few minutes went by, and when nothing happened, I started to relax. And then a hand was on my chest.

I froze. I couldn't move. My heart started hammering at the walls of my chest, as if to try and escape whatever was happening and about to happen.

The Hand fumbled around at the space between my breasts. At the time I had no idea what it was trying to achieve, but I now realise that it was trying to find the clasp of the bra that I had been wearing that day. It clasped in the front, something I was proud of as I felt it made me more adult.

Being that I was going to sleep, I didn't wear a bra. Something The Hand soon realised when it couldn't feel a small, hard plastic object under my nightie. I must've made a sound, or moved, because suddenly I was seeing light through my eyelids. The Hand had brought a torch with, and must've thought I'd woken up. I feigned sleep, hoping that whatever it was, was over and The Hand would leave.

It didn't.

After a few seconds of light, the torch snapped off. And The Hand enveloped one of my breasts.

At that point, I snapped out of my frozen terror, and folded my arms across my chest, knocking The Hand off, and startling it away.

I don't remember hearing The Hand leaving, or how long it took me to fall asleep that night. I remember CF's incredulousness when I told her about it the next day. It could only have been her brother, we figured, as why would her Dad do something like that? My suspicions were only deepened when her brother was awfully nice to us that morning. Whenever we made eye-contact, his face and eyes had this "I'm-sorry-don't-tell-I'm-sorry" expression.

CF told her Mom. And the next time I was over, CF's Mom called me into her bedroom, spoke frantically at me and pushed a typed letter in my face, ostensibly written by The Hand/brother. Once I'd read the obviously dictated admission of guilt, she ripped it up, and call him into the room. He slunk in, and mumbled an apology to his feet, and slunk out again. And she made me promise not to tell.

And I tried not to tell. I really did. But after a few days, I couldn't keep this gnawing creature in my gut to myself anymore, and I told my Mom. I'm not sure what she said to CF's Mom on the phone, but that was pretty much the end of visits after that.

Strangely, before I was aware of the body's natural leaning towards asymmetry, I assumed that the reason why one breast was smaller than the other was because it was touched by The Hand, and that somehow hindered it's growth. The things kids believe...

My Religious Experience

The other day, I was at the shops, picking up luxuries like food and toilet paper. In the parking garage, a young, neatly dressed man approached me and greeted me. Being in a good mood, I reciprocated.

After introducing himself, he said, "I would like to invite you to Church." I'm not particularly into the Abrahamic monotheistic religions - or any religion for that matter. I also didn't want to fob him off with a lie as that just didn't seem right, so I smiled, and said, "Dude, I don't really do church. But I do appreciate the offer."

What happened next was kind of shocking. He didn't ask why. He didn't try to argue me into attending church. He didn't try to stuff a pamphlet into my hand. He didn't denounce me as some kind of devil-worshipping deviant who is out to corrupt innocent children.

He returned my smile, shook my hand and wished me a very pleasant day. His reaction had such an affect one me that I still remember it a few days later. It's sad that I was half expecting him to go on the offensive, trying to shove his beliefs down my throat. I don't get that from my religious friends, but I do get it from religious strangers. Which is strange and weird and awkward.

I don't go to church because all they do is remind me of funerals - most specifically my sister's funeral. It's hard to feel love and awe and worship when you're transported to one of the most singularly painful moments in your life.

While I understand that some people turn to religion and God for support during those trying and painful times, I'm one of those that turned away. I didn't find comfort or love in the deep emptiness of space, there was no explanation why a supposedly benevolent Creator would cause this kind of pain to my parents and family.

It's been over 10 years, and I still don't get it. I probably never will. I guess I'm ok with that. I'm glad that my religious friends have solace in something that they believe in. I'm also glad that they don't push it down my throat. What do I believe in now? I don't know. I guess I believe in the inherent goodness of people. It's not always easy to find, but it's wonderful when you do.

The S word

Banging. Fucking. Making the beast with two backs. Insert Tab A into Slot B.

Frankly, even with all the sex in publishing and TV we have, people grow up knowing next to nothing about it. Their parents won't talk to them, the schools aren't allowed to, so they have to make do with playground rumour and "babysitter pays the pizza guy with a blowjob" porn.

A lot of parents say that their refusal to educate their children about sex is "so that they won't fall pregnant". That kind of thinking is illogical. That's like not teaching someone self defense so that they'll never get attacked.

Obviously, the puritanical approach is working since you have little to none teenage pregnancy, sexual assault and rape. Wait? What's that? It isn't working? Oh, but it's not your fault. It's the fault of TV and the Internet. Who is the parent here again? Isn't it you?

Isn't it your responsibility to give them the break down when they first ask as 6 year olds? You don't have to sit them down with a porno, just the basics. It'll take 10 minutes, tops. But then, when they hit puberty, you need to sit them down again and again. And tell them the following:

"Sex is great. It really is, especially when it is with someone that you have strong emotional feelings for. But it is also a choice for both partners whether they want to do it or not, and those choices must be respected. Trying to force someone is rape or sexual assault - they're not playing hard to get, they're not kidding around. No means no, got it? No begging, no pleading, no emotional blackmail, no threats, no trying to go through with it anyway.

And if they can't say no because they're drunk or drugged, then the only time you touch them is to turn them onto their side, bring them a bucket and cover them with a blanket. How would you like it if someone did something to you that you didn't want?


You also don't have to do the full penetration to have fun. In fact, you can have lots of fun without actual intercourse. You can bring pleasure to each other with your fingers and tongue and lips. If you do want to have sex, by all means, use protection. There's condoms, diaphragms, the birth control pill, the injection, the patch, the morning after pill. It's not just pregnancy you need to deal with, it's various STDs. (If you can find a book with pictures of STD infected genitals, go for it).

Sex between two people who trust each other and respect each others needs is amazing. And chances are, you will have sex with more than one person in your lifetime. As long as it's in a safe environment with two consenting adults. I hope you know you can always talk to us and ask us questions. We love you."

You may be uncomfortable talking about it. Tough shit. If you can't talk about it, how the hell were you able to nail your partner enough times to fall pregnant? Get over your stupid little foibles, sit the result of your sexual activities down, and give them The Talk. They deserve it.

How to dehumanize someone

View them through a piece of glass. Be it a lens, a screen or a window.

I wasn't going to write a blog today, but felt compelled to after seeing what I saw this morning on the way to gym.

I walk to gym - it's close by and seems silly to drive. I had to take a different route into the shopping complex this morning, as a taxi had crashed into the wall and the main entrance was blocked off by ambulances and police cars.

I don't want to see people dead and dying, so I turned my head when walking past. Unfortunately, a few other people didn't seem to care about that, and were gathering around like social media vultures, snapping away with their phones.

Someone died this morning in that accident. Two are critically injured. But you just HAVE to take a photo for Facebook/Twitter/Tumblr/what ever, don't you. Who cares that the EMTs are working their asses off to save someone's life? Who cares that those victims have families, and coming across those photos will be a very nasty shock to them? As long as you can get those likes and comments and retweets, right?

It's disgusting.

It's unfeeling.

It breaks my fucking heart.

Uniboob

So, I'm chestily advantaged. Which means that when I work out, I need to wear at least 2 sports bras, lest I wind up with my own self-grown jump rope by the age of 40.

Last week I bought a super-uber-holy-shit-this-is-IT running sports bra. It promised minimal bounce.

There is some bounce. But that's not the main issue. Bras that talk about minimal bounce deliver on that promise by basically strapping your girls down. This results in a uniboob. It's not attractive, but I can still live with it.

That is, until I climb into my car and strap on my seat belt. You see, boys and girls, when you wear a "normal" bra, it follows the natural lines of separation between your badoinkies, which means there is a little valley that the seat belt can naturally rest in. No problems.

The uniboob resulting from wearing a compression bra, however, results in that lovely valley being filled in by squished boob-flesh, creating a nice hill on which the seat belt slides up and attempts to slit your throat. Your drive ends up being like this:

Get in car.
Put on seatbelt.
Choke and desperately claw the murderous belt away from your throat.
Clip the belt in.
Start the car.
Choke and desperately claw the murderous belt away from your throat while your annoyance level rises.
Drive.
Choke and angrily claw the murderous belt away from your throat.
Drive some more.
Choke and angrily claw the murderous belt away from your throat while spewing out some rather creative swear words and cursing the seat belt's inventor, their children, their neighbours and their dog.
Drive some more.
Choke, and violently undo the belt and say "fuck it!" and drive the rest of the way home beltless.

If someone could invent a solution to that problem, I would...probably buy the product, but I think that's about as far as I would go really.

To leash

Or not to leash. Incidentally, is it just me that wants to say that with a Sean Connery accent? Yes? Oh...ok...

Anyway, a few days ago, I saw a woman, probably around my age, with a baby and a toddler. The toddler had a kiddy-leash on him, and my first thoughts were "I need to go to Woolies to buy bananas."

I don't care if people choose to leash their kids. Frankly, I don't get why such a big huge fuss gets kicked up about it. Just like not all parents do time-outs, but instead sit down and explain why the Tot did something wrong, or not all parents just hand out toys, but expect the Tot to ask nicely and say thank you; not all parents are anti-leash.

I was leashed as a kid. Now, this was a few decades ago, and my Mom made it very clear that I was to stick to her side like scandal to a politician, but when you're that little, you literally have the attention span of a puppy. I dimly remember my thought processes being "Stay with Mommy...Stay with Mommy....TOYSTOYSTOYSTOYSTOYSTOYS!!!!" The leash was only necessary until I realised that staying with Mom is a good idea, since if I behave, I don't get The Look (TM). Anyone that has gotten The Look (TM) from my Mom knows what I'm talking about...

As any parent, babysitter, grandparent etc can tell you, toddlers are magicians. Conjurers. Sorcerers. Especially when your back is turned. You may turn for 3 seconds to grab the dried thyme, and ALAKAZAM! your toddler has disappeared. They're fast with those tiny little legs. There should be a Toddler Olympics...

And frankly, if you're a lone parent trying to do grocery shopping with two little ones, you need all the help you can get. You need to juggle your shopping list, your cart, your handbag (you never leave your handbag in your cart - asking for something to be stolen that way!), the bag with the things that toddlers need, plus the toddlers. You can't put both in the trolley, because you're doing a big monthly shop, and you can't just put one in the trolley seat because the other one will have a tantrum.

Not to mention that if your kid is leashed to you, it makes that much harder for someone to kidnap them. So don't make a big deal of it. Don't judge the mother or father with a leashed child.  At least they're trying, unlike that "I've given up" parent in the tinned goods aisle, with a little boy running around and nearly tripping people. You know the one. They look at you with empty, emotionless eyes because the nappy ads that showed kids being cute and giggly and well behaved right out of the uterus were all lies, and they either don't know how to reign their kid in, or just don't care to.