That moment when you learn your client's doc is a flaming antichoicer...

I have a client due in a couple of months who is under the care of an obstetrician I've yet to meet. I asked the mama-to-be a few simple questions about his philosophy, how she's felt about her care thus far, etc. But of course I like to do my own research so I know what to expect when the day arrives.

So I found the Facebook page of this doctor's medical practice. The first thing I noticed was that it's affiliated with a large, multi-state health care network that runs a few hospitals and many physician-led practices. But then I noted a prevalence of anti-abortion, anti-contraception, and even anti-LGBTIQ links. (Because having a position on gay marriage so relates to the process of pregnancy and childbirth.) Overall, I'm thinking at this point that this is highly unprofessional. Divisive social issues have no place on the professional page of a medical practice.

The furthest I go on my doula business' page is promote myself as someone who is inclusive regardless of family structure, is experienced in supporting families through all kinds of loss, and believes that quality health care is a human right. These are the least divisive ways I can think to pen it. But it translates broadly without me taking a clear and divisive position on the issues: an LGBTIQ person or a family with a non-traditional structure will know that I will respect them and want to work with them. A person who's choosing to terminate as well as a person who will experience unintended loss will know I can support them as well. There is such a thing as marketing yourself towards certain types of people without taking divisive hard-line positions on things.

And I think I'm pretty good at it. I've had doula clients tell me straight up that they are personally against abortion. Since they were planning a birth, it wasn't an issue, even when they knew I had a different view. And we worked well together with compassion and respect. I don't hide the fact that I'm pro-choice and inclusive of all individuals and family structures; my philosophy has always been that if my sociopolitical beliefs are going to turn you off from me, there's probably also some personality traits that will make me a bad fit, and I am not the right doula for you. But that doesn't mean I flaunt my beliefs to countless families that might be looking for someone to support them through the birth of their child, especially when it's completely irrelevant to their situation.

Let me say this: he's open about it, and I respect that. And honestly, he's free to run his practice in whatever way he pleases. But the affiliation with one of our state's largest, secular health care networks... that is what's getting to me.

That and the privilege. OH THE PRIVILEGE. That someone can publicize their views on the most divisive social issues all over their business page and not have to worry about it hurting their business is the definition of privilege. Like the small businesses - landscaping, towing, etc - that have Jesus fish on their logos. Can you imagine what would happen if a business put the Muslim star and crescent on their marketing materials? Forget losing customers, in some areas their business would be viciously attacked, verbally or worse.

Whatever. He'll be the guy at the foot of the bed, catching my client's baby. He's a supporter of natural childbirth, and hell, he's the one that pushed her to consider a doula in the first place. I can get past his publicly-stated conservative views so long as he treats her with respect and honors her wishes. I'm not there for him, I'm there for her.

...and then I was Home.

I just re-read my 2011 Farewell Letter. It's airy, idealistic, and ambiguous. Mostly because that's how things felt at last year's end. I had no idea how 2012 would go, but I was privileged to begin it with the person I hoped to spend it with. And I did. And things have gone from ambiguous to concrete, which is in and of itself a wonderful thing, if not far more boring than the flighty idealism that I began the year with.

My partner and I are in a good place. We've made some huge changes in our lives, strengthened our commitment to one another, and navigated past some fairly complicated road blocks. More on that later.

I've continued healing from my past relationship, locating my baggage and acknowledging that I will probably carry it for years. I've learned to let go of the fact that I cannot be the one to tell him what I think he needs to hear. While I was never perfect, I am not a bad person. Let me be clear that he didn't actively seek to make me feel like one, but for the length of our relationship, that is what he did to me. Learning these things about him, through hours and hours of therapeutic processing, has in and of itself allowed me to let him go for good. If that means we're not friends anymore, it means we're not friends anymore. But I cannot be responsible for him, his actions, or the way he treated me. As I'm often so fond of saying, shit ain't mine.

A major thing I've learned this year may surprise some: I realized I am far too agreeable. That's probably a funny thought for anyone who knows me politically, but for those acquainted with my personal life, it should make perfect sense. So this year has been about beginning a new pattern, where I speak up if something is bothering me, not worry about inconveniencing someone if it's a reasonable request, and just generally be more honest about what I want and need in life. Again, those who only know me as the raving feminist with all the crazy opinions will read this and ask how on earth they're going to deal with me being even less agreeable, but that's not the arena of my life that's needed work.

But the biggest event in my life involves finding myself and where I belong. Looking around my house this morning, I realized it feels more like Home than it ever has.

There's something profound about the word Home. To many, home is merely a place you keep your  things and sleep at night. But they're wrong. What makes Home different from your house is simple: how does it make you feel?

At Home, we are at ease. We find comfort, solace, and pure acceptance for who we are. By definition, an enormous portion of the population is Homeless. By definition, I've been Homeless for years.

You'd think my lack of Home during my relationship with C would have tipped me off. But we're good at kidding ourselves, of creating the illusion of Home as a matter of survival. And I don't blame myself for refusing to see the truth; leaving is complicated. I guess I should give C a break on that one... abandonment was indeed the easier path.

But back to Home. It happened so organically. Almost as if it was fate. It's cliche in a way, but it's true. Going from Homeless to just happily rootless in 2011 has given way to my 2012, where I discovered how profoundly I fit in in spaces I did not even know existed. I've made new friends that immediately accepted me as I am, and I them. My old friends feel closer, golden with years of memories combined with my newly-found comfort to be open about everything I am and want.

My life continues to transition, as I hope it always does, but my roots are stronger, clearer, and more defined. Upheaval is met with more confidence, uncertainty with courage and calculated steps forward. My head is clearer, I know what I want most of the time, and I'm trying to be better at achieving it. Large-scale life changes no longer frighten me or pull me into a cycle of complete panic and anxiety. And if nothing else, I know any level of crazy I need to pull out will be met with love, compassion, and support.

I am Home.

Prescribed Addiction

I'll preface by saying that the following is not meant to diminish the experiences of those who have dealt with (and perhaps overcome) addiction to recreational substances. I recognize that my prescription drug is a) legal, b) easy to obtain, c) fairly cheap, and d) not likely to land me in legal trouble any time soon. But seeing how it is as close as I'll hopefully ever come to feeling "like an addict," I believe my experience with Paxil is one that deserves to be spoken about.

I started taking Paxil a little over 12 years ago. What was going on in my life: I was sixteen, looking towards beginning my junior year at an expensive private high school in Atlanta's ritzier neighborhood. Death had encompassed my life over the previous year as I dealt with the passing of five people close to me: three elderly family members, one suicide by a queer teenaged friend, and a close relative of my best friend that died suddenly and unexpectedly at a young age. While I did not personally know the latter, his was the one that hit me hardest. He was young, barely into college the way I remember it. He had an undiagnosed heart condition that had never caused him any trouble until he was just... gone. Young people dying suddenly and without notice. That was scary for me.

The panic attacks became so regular that my life was on hold. I could not so much as stand up out of bed without the crippling feeling like my heart was going to give out. But really... why would it have? I was a dancer, one of the most active kids in my peer group. I was healthy, ate well, had no family history of congenital organ defects. But people who suffer from panic disorder are irrational by definition.

So my parents did what was likely the only thing to get me back on my feet before school started back up: took me to a shrink who would give me pills. After all, legitimate panic disorder manifests as a true chemical imbalance (shut up Tom Cruise, you're an idiot), so drug therapy was surely the proper treatment.

It worked so miraculously that we all but forgot to look for the underlying cause of the imbalance. I understand now that chemical imbalances rarely "just happen" and that drug therapy is best used as a temporary solution in conjunction with whatever will get to the heart of it all. Of course my teenaged self wasn't about to ask questions. After all, I was one of many sixteen year olds on SSRIs. In 2000, it had become as normal as teen angst, and all I had to do was take a pill. Take a pill, feel normal, repeat.

After a decade of this, I started thinking about my reproductive future. Paxil is not safe to take during pregnancy, and I would not will the risk of heart anomalies on a future child. So I'm in therapy (the kind with a person who doesn't have prescription privileges), working on whatever it is I think I should be working on. Hopefully I'll go off the drug one day, but past attempts have not fared well.

Anyway, Paxil is known for its withdrawal symptoms. I've had quite a few experiences with this. I forget to get my prescription refilled before the pharmacy closes, and so I have to wait until morning. Those nights are hell. I had one last night.

These are the moments that make me feel like a drug addict, where I feel as though I can sympathize - if only mildly - with people who have battled addictions themselves. I woke up a number of times overnight after having vivid nightmares. Cold sweat. Hot but freezing. Mouth dry. Sheets below me damp with perspiration, dizzy and emotional. These are not the symptoms of panic disorder itself as the drug manufacturers would like you to believe; this is drug withdrawal.

That this kind of thing can result from a legal drug, one that is prescribed to millions with promises of "normalcy" while innocuous substances like marijuana carry severe life-ruining consequences, is beyond my comprehension. My psychiatrist is a drug peddler, pure and simple. He requires one appointment every two years to continue refilling your prescription. The last one was immediately after my husband left me. In our 20 minute phone conversation, the only real advice he offered was to up my dose from 20mg/day to 30mg/day. (I did not ever do this... my marriage was ending, I wasn't supposed to feel normal.) The Klonopin he also prescribed proved a beneficial bandage as well, but I've learned that this man's job is not to fix but to drug.

And such is the problem with our society's treatment of mental illness. We assume these things "just happen," so just take this drug, don't worry about it, you don't need to look inward to find answers. Or rather, we don't have the time to soul-search for their roots. Drugging is easier, it's cheaper, and it's not at all time consuming. My current therapy is definitely not easy. It's not cheap. It takes time. I'm privileged to have the ability to do it, and in the long run it will be way less expensive than whatever health problems I'll experience from the decade plus of Paxil exposure. But again... we're not a society set up to prioritize those kinds of holistic self-care practices.

So we drug. And drug. And drug some more.

"Rejection" Video: From viral video to assault epidemic

Totally not discussing the election today. Because really... no.

There's a video a lot of people are posting where a boy toddler is repeatedly and aggressively pressing himself against a girl toddler despite her continued efforts to push him away. People are absolutely cooing over it, remarking at how adorable it is and "awe he's in love," and "oh look that little girl is so assertive and cute."

I gotta say, it's not friggin cute. It's an absolute disregard of this little girl’s boundaries. Then there's the adult behind the camera, giggling and doing nothing... how disgusting. And how analogous it is to when grown men don’t take no for an answer, no matter how much a woman pushes and shoves and says no.

You might say, but they're just babies. They don't know any better. "Boys will be boys." Oh yeah? And at what age, exactly, does this kind of invasive behavior become "not okay," because I've heard people use the same excuse for college-aged men who sexually harass women. And what better time to teach someone that pushing himself (or herself) upon a person who clearly doesn't want to be touched is not fucking okay? Instead, we film it and redistribute it all over the internet, cooing and laughing. Gross.

This is how we teach boys not to respect women’s spaces.

Last Night's Nums: Braised Coconut Spinach and Chickpeas

This was a very simple recipe that, while curry-ish, was a nice change from the constant legitimate curries we eat around here. It's very flavorful and goes well over brown rice (though any grain would probably work). What's more, it's made almost entirely from things we regularly stock, so it's a nice thing to throw together on those nights where you want to eat in but haven't thought ahead enough to go shopping.

You will need:

2 teaspoons oil or ghee
1 small yellow onion
2 cups red potato, chopped into 1" chunks
4 large cloves garlic, peeled and minced
1 tablespoon fresh grated ginger
2 teaspoons turmeric
1/3 cup sun-dried tomatoes, chopped
1 large lemon, zested and juiced (about 2 tablespoons juice)
Dash of red pepper flakes
15-ounce can chickpeas, drained
1/2 pound frozen spinach
14-ounce can coconut milk
1 teaspoon salt, or to taste
1 teaspoon ground ginger

Instructions:

Complete with a view of the
utter mess that is my kitchen.

Heat the oil or ghee in a large, deep Dutch oven or heavy pot over medium-high heat. Add the onion and potatoes and cook for about 5 minutes, or until the onion is beginning to brown. Add the garlic, fresh ginger, sun-dried tomatoes, lemon zest and red pepper, if using. Cook for 3 minutes, stirring frequently.

Add the chickpeas and cook over high heat for a few minutes or until the chickpeas are beginning to turn golden and they are coated with the onion and garlic mixture.

Reduce heat to medium. Toss in the spinach and stir to blend. It will begin to look and smell seriously tasty. Let cook until all the ice crystals have melted off the spinach. (If using fresh spinach, toss in one handful at a time until the wilting makes room for more.)

When all the spinach has been stirred in, pour in the coconut milk and stir in the salt, ground ginger, and lemon juice. Bring to a simmer then turn down the heat and cook for 10 minutes or until the chickpeas are warm through. Taste and add more salt and lemon juice, if necessary.

Garnish with cilantro. Serve over brown rice with a side of nan or other tasty flat bread.

YUM!

The Wolf or the Fox? Or, why I voted 3rd party this year.

So I'm officially "coming out" and letting everyone know that I wrote in Stein/Honkala on my ballot this year.

Believe it or not, this was kind of difficult decision for me. In past election cycles, I've allowed myself to be roped into the "lesser of two evils" game, told that I should vote for the Democrat for purposes of "damage control," that I as a woman should understand this more than anyone. And in past elections, I felt pretty okay about it.

So why the sudden change? Well, for one thing, I realized that I've never actually used my right to vote to vote FOR someone. Every time, I'm voting AGAINST Bush, AGAINST McCain, this or that person. I'm sick of it, and this time I wanted to use my vote - that right that my feminist foremothers fought tirelessly for - to amplify my voice, not my concession.

Of course this decision has been/will continue to be met with some heated arguments for an Obama vote. So I thought I'd address some of those here.

"But why this election? This is the most important election of our lifetime!" 

Yeah you said that last time. And the time before that.

Okay, I get it. The idea of a Romney presidency scares you even more than the prospect of a McCain/Palin administration scared you four years ago. I do not blame you; the Republicans have become increasingly confident in the past few years, and they are using that confidence to push some seriously frightening policies.  I mean, that so many GOP'ers feel okay saying totally inappropriate (and inaccurate) things about abortion and rape is frightening enough... that they continue to garner support from a large portion of the population is beyond me.

But really, why not let this be an important election for Third Parties as well? I believe that enough people are disenfranchised with the limitations of our two-party system that now is the time to shift the conversation. The more buzz these third parties get, the better. To borrow words from my candidate, Dr. Stein:

"Progressives have been told we dare not vote for our values and our vision because dangerous things will happen — witness Ralph Nader. We have 10 years of experience with muzzling ourselves politically, and it’s very clear now that silence has not been an effective political strategy, and that the politics of fear in fact has delivered all those things that we were afraid of."

"Great, I totally see the value in generating buzz for third parties. But why do you have to do it this election??"

What, are you going to be more receptive to my "throwing away my vote" next time around? I seem to remember the exact same line being used in 2008. And 2004. The point is, there's never going to be an "ideal time" to shift the conversation, so why not today?

"But but but... the courts! You of all people should recognize the importance of the courts!!"

I know, I know, Ruth Bader Ginsburg is likely to retire soon, as are a couple other Supreme Court justices. Roe v. Wade is in danger. I understand. I went through that entire process in my head, and when I came out of it, I still could not in good conscience cast a vote for Obama.

Look, if Roe v. Wade is overturned, it would be a disaster. But it would also be an opportunity. We've become so overwhelmed with the reproductive rights struggle that we’re in defensive mode. We’re trying desperately to hold on to the limited rights we won back in 1973 with the Roe v. Wade decision. Because of the numerous attacks on the basic right to choose, it almost seems like we have no alternative. 
 
But simply holding on to what we gained with Roe bars a large percentage of the population from their realization of reproductive justice. For example, Roe v. Wade never guaranteed access to abortion, evidenced by the passage of the Hyde Amendment several years later. This amendment continues to restrict abortion access to young and lower-income women of all stripes.

The battle over Roe has also forced us to focus our attention solely on the legality of abortion. To be sure, the vision of reproductive justice is not about the right to terminate a pregnancy; to me, reproductive justice encompasses the entire experience of being a sexual being capable of reproduction. When we focus solely on maintaining Roe, we lose our ability to fight for everything else. Reproductive justice encompasses far more than convincing legislators to allow us to do what we should have the right to do in the first place, and as disastrous as it would be to lose Roe, it would open the door for some real shit to start happening.

"But you're a health care worker! What about Obamacare? Your clients could lose their insurance coverage for your services."

Indeed they could. But if I remember correctly, Obama already sold out my and my clients' rights when he used our health care as a bargaining chip to get the bill passed in the first place. And just because the Affordable Care Act makes women's health care a more accessible doesn't mean it's anything close to what we deserve. The people of the United States deserve universal, single-payer health care; Democrats never wanted to fight for that in the first place, and if they did, they dropped that platform at the first accusation of "socialism." All the more reason to cast a ballot for someone who believes that health care is a basic human right.

"I mean, Obama's not perfect, but he's not that bad, is he?"

I'm not as elegant as I'd like to be on this matter, so I'll let Dr. Stein break it down for us:

"Obama has basically embraced most of Bush’s policies, including drill baby drill, pro-nuke, pro-coal, undermining the Durban [climate] accords. He’s celebrating the beginnings of the Keystone pipeline. We still have twice as many troops in Afghanistan as we had under George Bush. The only reason Obama withdrew from Iraq was because he was unable to negotiate immunity for the troops, so he wound up having to accept what was George Bush’s timeline for withdrawal."

What it comes down to is that progressives have no voice in our corrupt, money-driven electoral system. If it were up to me, this system wouldn't even exist anymore, but when I have the opportunity to vote for someone who truly reflects my values, I'll take it. Casting a ballot for a war-mongering corporate candidate, to me, is almost as offensive as casting one for a war-mongering corporate candidate who's also anti-choice and anti-LGBTQ. Remember, the main difference between Republicans and Democrats is lube.

Lastly, I want to make it abundantly clear that I do not look down upon progressives who have had the same internal dialogue and came to a different conclusion. If you harbor very real criticisms of Obama but voted for him anyway, I completely understand. If you harbor so many criticisms of the system that you don't vote at all, I understand that as well. I'm not going to put you down, call you a spineless liberal, or accuse you of "playing into" the system. Your vote is your choice, and so long as it is well-informed, I respect your decision. All I ask in return is that you do the same for me.

Feminism and the Case of the Shrinking Costume

This is going around the interwebs today:

The Evolution of Girls' Halloween Costumes

I've made it a policy not to engage in debate with the friends of acquaintances, but when the friend of a friend commented on Facebook that feminism, secularism, and sex positivity were to blame for this phenomenon, I decided to come here to discuss the many ways she's wrong.

Patriarchy manifests itself differently in different cultures. In theocracies, it may come with the expectation that a woman remain completely modest in dress and behavior, norms that may or may not be enforced by law. In our capitalist society, however, patriarchy manifests as the idea that our bodies - and our sexualities - are commodities to be bought and sold, cheered on and exploited by the standards of the male gaze.

The common theme is that our bodies are not our own; they are controlled by a system of oppression, or sometimes even by another human being directly. Whether we're being forced to cover ourselves against our will or made to believe that our only worth comes in being sexy for another person's enjoyment, it's all patriarchy, and it's all intensely detrimental.

So the sexy costumes. I have friends who enjoy them immensely. But you know what? They're grown adults who have chosen - though likely through a lifetime of socialization - to don very skimpy outfits on Halloween, at parties, etc. Most of them wouldn't be caught dead in a Halloween store's $10 faux corset, but at a glance their wardrobe choices appear similar to the costumes I tend to roll my eyes at. Which is to say, I don't exactly cheer on the practice, but I do respect it as a means of self-expression, a reflection of our patriarchal society though it may be.

It gets hairy when you start parsing "choice" and "autonomy" with the knowledge that we do not exist in a vacuum, that all our behaviors and choices are influenced by the way we've been brought up. But what we can probably all agree on is that the availability of these ever-shrinking costumes - and the disappearance of other options - pollutes the minds of girls from a very early age. If from a young age a girl consistently sees nothing but outfits that highlight her chest and fall far above her knee, how can we even begin to hope that she will be able to express her sexuality autonomously as an adult?

Make no mistakes... the sexualization of young girls is not the result of feminism, secularism, or sex positivity (ideals that all deem autonomous decision making and healthy sexuality of high value). No, childhood sexualization comes, not surprisingly, from our culture's version of patriarchy: a capitalist view that sees bodies as objects to be bought and sold.