Breastfeeding Advocacy: You're Doin It Wrong

If there's one thing breastfeeding advocates are really good at, it's spouting off the numerous health benefits of breastfeeding while listing the risks of artificial formulas.  You'd be hard-pressed to find a mom who, for example, couldn't tell you that breastfed babies have less illness, fewer allergies, or a lower risk of childhood obesity. 

And yet US breastfeeding rates are abysmal, with fewer than 15% of American women exclusively breastfeeding for the WHO recommendation of six months, and only about 44% of six-month old babies are breastfeeding with supplementation or complementary foods.  The numbers drop even more once you get to the WHO's recommendation of breastfeeding with the addition of complementary foods past the first year, with only 23% of babies receiving any breastmilk at all past that landmark. And of course, lower-income women and women of color are far more likely to quit breastfeeding earlier.

We've heard it all before: "My milk dried up after three months."  "I had to go back to work, and it just wasn't possible anymore."  "I didn't know lactation consultants existed."  "I had way too much going on in my life to fix the problem."  "I couldn't afford lactation support."  "My partner didn't support my decision to breastfeed." For these situations, pamphlets and ad campaigns that regurgitate the old "breast is best" adage aren't going to suddenly resolve breastfeeding challenges.  All they're going to do is create more guilt and shame in the minds of mothers who, despite their best efforts, just couldn't make it work for them. 

So says a recent study regarding the Surgeon General's 2011 "Call to Action to Support Breastfeeding."  The Call, hardly a breastfeeding-friendly overhaul of the nation's health care system, has been received as mere propaganda that spouts a message without providing realistic solutions.  Mothers surveyed say the Call gave them more reasons to feel bad about not breastfeeding without providing actual mandates that change the way new mothers are able to make autonomous parenting choices.

I will say this: the article does an incredibly shoddy job of analyzing the situation.  Instead of asking why so few mothers make it to the six month mark, ABC News chooses instead to interview a medical professional, a professor of pediatrics nonetheless, who says that there are "other options" for women who aren't producing enough milk for their children.

On the other side, the Peanut Gallery provides very little reprieve, featuring commentary from the very short-sighted "I-Did-It-So-Everyone-Can" camp:

• "Everyone has to do what works for them, but for most women who get past the learning curve (which takes up to 6 weeks), the convenience of breastfeeding is a huge blessing."
  Yeah, tell that to the woman who has to go back to her minimum-wage job after four weeks and won't be able to express milk while at work. 
  
• "I think I'll wait until more moms get over their denial over being lazy mothers first. Children aren't dogs or cats, either put up or shut up if you're going to make the choice to have one."
  Right, that's why women stop breastfeeding, because they're lazy.  Not because they were in a situation that looks nothing like yours (gasp!). 
  
• "3 babies died this year from formula i am sure the moms that fed there [sic] babies that formula had tried to breastfeed hard those babies would be here today and there are breastmilk banks throgh [sic] the hospital where people dnate [sic] extra milk it is drug tested and safe"
  Okay, first of all, let's try some punctuation.  You can learn how to use it at many public institutions including elementary school.  Secondly, donated milk at milk banks is generally reserved for very sick or premature babies and is generally not available for public use.  Finally, even if you did find a milk bank that would provide milk for a well baby, its distribution would not be covered by insurance.  Milk banks charge upwards of $3 per ounce (for those of you playing along at home, that's about $72 a day).  And while more communities now have underground (non-banked) milk sharing programs, many mothers just aren't comfortable accepting unpasteurized milk from a stranger. 

No one in either camp, be it "breast is best" or "stop shaming formula-feeding moms," seems to adequately get to the heart of the problem.  No, we shouldn't be guilt-tripping mothers who, for whatever reason, stopped breastfeeding before one year or never tried at all.  But we also shouldn't just accept that 86% of American mothers made some autonomous decision to not exclusively breastfeed!  Let me be clear: campaigns that tout the many benefits of breastfeeding (and risks of formula-feeding) are valuable, but they aren't going to raise the bar alone.  To truly create a society where mothers are able to make autonomous infant feeding decisions, we need to be a bit more radical. 

To start, let me suggest:

• Complete physical, spiritual, and emotional control over when we bring children into the world in the first place.  About half of all pregnancies are unintended, and many mothers struggle just to be able to provide a safe place for their infants to sleep at night.  For these mothers, whether or not their babies are at heightened risk for childhood obesity may be the furthest thing from their minds.   
• Access to quality maternity care regardless of ability to pay.  Actually, let's just go ahead and say that health care is a human right and should not be a part of our for-profit system.  
• Insurance and Medicaid reimbursement for lactation support and any equipment needed to implement a plan of care.  
• Longer maternity leave with full pay, followed by full employer support for mothers who need time and space to express breastmilk while at work.
• Free childcare.
• More support from friends, family, and society at large.  While women who are successful at breastfeeding are more likely to do so for longer than, say, thirty years ago, there is still a large percent of people who believe breastfeeding past six months is somehow akin to sexual abuse or just plain "creepy."  
• Education about breastfeeding as the normal way to feed a baby beginning in the early years of elementary school.  Maybe bring back the famous Sesame Street segment. 
• Teaching girls from an early age that our bodies are totally rad and that there's nothing "gross" or "weird" about our periods, our pregnancies, or our ability to produce milk. 

Pipe dreams.

Nums: The "Oh Dear God!" Bacon Apple Pie

I've received a fair number of requests to share the recipe for the bacon apple pie I made for Spectrum's benefit pie auction last month.  So here it is!

The first thing you should know about this pie is that my intention was to just make something ridiculous.  The boring vegan chocolate pie I made last year only brought in about $15 for our collective, so this year I decided to get creative.  I figured that a pie featuring everyone's favorite meat would gain at least a bit more attention (if not donation), especially since I knew that many benefit attendees would be vegan (for those of you not in the know, vegans absolutely love bacon).  But then I tried the "test pie" and decided that this recipe isn't just ridiculous... it's DELICIOUS.

The original recipe came from a cooking blog, but I tweaked the recipe enough that I'm now calling it mine.  Of course those of you who know me know that I like to feed people, so I'm not possessive about recipes.  In other words, take this recipe, tweak it, and feel your arteries harden as you make many, many bacony pies.

The "Oh Dear God!" Bacon Apple Pie

I should note that I make my own pie crust because I'm a friggin food snob.  My favorite recipe comes from Cooks Illustrated, which I of course tweaked a bit as well, mostly because I have problems with authority.  To make the crust, you will need the following:

• 1 1/4 cups unbleached all-purpose flour
• 1/2 tsp table salt
• 1 tbsp sugar
• 6 tbsp cold unsalted butter, cut into small pieces
• 1/4 cup cold vegetable shortening, cut into pieces
• 1/8 cup cold vodka
• 1/8 cup cold water

To make the crust:

• Process 3/4 cups flour, salt, and sugar in food processor until combined, about two 1-second pulses.  Add butter and shortening and process into homogenous dough just starts to collect in uneven clumps, about 15 seconds; dough will resemble cottage cheese curds.
• Scrape bowl with rubber spatula and redistribute dough evenly around processor blade.  Add remaining cup flour and pulse until mixture is evenly distributed around bowl, about 4-6 quick pulses.  Empty mixture into medium bowl.
• Sprinkle vodka and water over mixture.  With rubber spatula, use folding motion to mix, pressing down on dough until dough is slightly tacky and sticks together.  Ball up and wrap dough in plastic wrap and refrigerate at least 45 minutes or up to 2 days.
• After cooled, roll out on generously floured work surface to 12” circle, about 1/8” thick.  Roll dough loosely around rolling pin and unroll into pie plate, leaving at least 1” overhang on each side.

And now for the filling.  You'll need pretty much the "normal stuff" you'd buy to make a non-baconated apple pie:

•  5-6 medium tart apples, peeled, cored, sliced, then halved (Ida Reds worked beautifully)
• 1/4 cup dark brown sugar
• 1 tbsp cinnamon
• 1/2 tsp nutmeg
• 1/4 tsp cloves
• 2 Tbsp cornstarch
• 1/3 cup real maple syrup 

...and then the fun stuff:

• 4 strips bacon, fried to almost-crispy and torn into small pieces
• 6-7 strips raw bacon, halved lengthwise 
• 1 tbsp scotch (something smokey... I used Johnnie Walker Black Label)

Now for the preparation!

 

Preheat your oven to 350*F.  Sprinkle the cooked bacon pieces over the bottom of the crust.  These pieces will continue to cook up into the rest of the filling so that the whole pie has that delicious bacon flavor. 

In a large mixing bowl, mix together the apple slices, brown sugar, nutmeg, cinnamon, cloves, cornstarch, and scotch.  I found that it didn't matter what order this was in, but you want to make sure the apples are coated in all the above goodness by this point, then toss the entire mixture with the maple syrup.  If you really want to get crazy, add up to 1 tbsp of bacon grease from the frying pan.

Empty the filling into the pie crust on top of the bacon pieces.

Now for the real fun... those of you who make pies fairly regularly may have noticed there is no butter in this filling.  That's because you don't need it... you will be building a bacon lattice on top of your pie!  This is where the halved strips of raw bacon come in.  As they cook in the oven, the grease will drip down into the filling, giving your pie even more of a gooey bacony flavor.  (Sidebar: if you need help making a lattice, YouTube has many how-to videos.)


 This is where the recipe may still need more tweaking.  On the test pie, I did not crimp the dough over the bacon pieces as pictured; I simply let the bacon pieces hang over the edge so that when they cooked they would simply shrink.  When I crimped the dough over, the bacon slices shrunk inward and came out a bit small.  You'll have to decide what you like better... the crimped dough looks prettier, but simply letting the long pieces of bacon hang over may be better once cooked.

Bake the pie about 1 hour, until the bacon pieces appear cooked and the apple slices are tender. 

Enjoy!

A Letter to Y'all

Dear Y'all,

I appreciate the concern you have for me and my emotional well-being.  Without many of you, the past year of my life would not have been survivable, let alone exciting and ridiculously fun.  For all the support, love, and time, I am infinitely thankful and blessed to have each of you in my life.

That being said, no, I do not want to get drunk on Sunday.  I do not want to smash stuff, burn things, cast voodoo curses, or anything other than the usual stuff I do on Sundays (which lately has consisted of sleeping in, laundry, and... laundry). If you would like to hang out, let's do so because we're hanging out and not because it's March 4. 

I know I'm one to place strong emotional ties to things like anniversaries, and I know I am often easily triggered by strange associations I've built in my mind.  However, I am not going to have a nervous breakdown.  I am not going to backslide into a compromised emotional state.  I may have one or two moments throughout the day of, "Oh hey, it's my wedding anniversary," but other than that, I don't really anticipate an issue.

I do not want you to come over and help me "process stuff." I do not want you to call to "check in" on how I'm doing... if we're in regular contact, you probably have a pretty good idea of how I'm doing (exceedingly well, for those of you playing along at home), and the calendar day isn't likely to change that.  I honestly don't really want to think about it at all.  (If you really want to come by, you can help with the vast amounts of laundry I'll be doing, and I may feed you lunch.)

Here's the other thing: my new relationship did not enable me to survive the failed marriage.  That train of logic is backwards.  My ability to survive (and do so beautifully, if I do say so myself) was something I enabled myself to do, and it made entering into a new relationship possible.  "She's doing well because of a boy" insults me greatly and undermines my journey; it assumes I could never be happy without another person (a man, at that) to validate my existence, which is fucked.  I went from having never really been "single" as an adult to being a fiercely independent woman in a short period of time, and I did so by myself, lovingly enabled by continuous support from a rad group of close friends and family members.  So before you look to my current relationship for a reason why I'm so damn happy, remember that my ability to be a joyous autonomous human being came first, not the other way around.  My happiness isn't hingent on being involved romantically with someone else (and by the way, neither is yours).

So again, thank you everyone for helping me be the reason I don't want to do anything differently this coming Sunday. Your love and friendship means the world to me, and hey, next time I do want to smash things/burn stuff/cast a few voodoo curses, I'll know who to call. 

Love,
LG

When You 'Approve' of Pretty Much Anything

When I look up from my desk, there's a camera phone in my face.  I can tell it's set to "video" by the way they're snickering.  "Lauren, can we ask you something?" they begin.  I tell them of course, they can ask me anything.  From a sea of teenage giggles comes the question, "Do you approve of penis sucking?"

It's mid-November and I've just started working as the coordinator for a teen peer educator program.  The regular health educator, a woman with whom they have built strong bonds of trust, has recently had a baby and left this goofy group of kids under my care.  They are trained to facilitate presentations and workshops about sex, drugs/alcohol, peer pressure, healthy relationships, and more with other teens in their community.  The program is associated with lower teen pregnancy and STI rates.  These kids are smart, but they are also teens... that is, they have dirty minds and they love to say weird shit.

"Approve?" I ask.  "As in, do I approve of other people doing it?"  More giggling, plus nodding.  "Okay y'all.  What do we talk about here?  If it's consensual and safe, I 'approve' of pretty much anything."

Roaring laughter.  "ANYTHING?!?!"  They can barely contain their excitement, basking in the belief that they have "tricked" me into opening the floodgates.  Tricked my ass.  This was intentional.

What follows is a series of questions about whether or not I "approve" of a whole host of weird things, at least as "weird" as the unseasoned teenage mind can conjure.  It is at this moment I realize I am, at my heart, cut out for this kind of work.  I don't flinch, even when in my mind I may be making my best "WTF?" face.  The same goes for my work as a doula.  When a multiparous mama said she "wanted pressure on her anus" to relieve some unnerving sensation during second stage, I didn't flinch... I wrapped a tennis ball in a nitrate glove, slipped one on my own hand, and held the thing to her anus until her baby started to crown and the visibly-confused OB told me to get out of the way.  It wasn't weird to me.  It was intuitive and matter-of-fact, and it made her birthing experience more comfortable. 

But back to the teens. While the "penis sucking" question became a running joke, the conversation that started it all established a culture of trust between myself and these particular teens.  During my tenure as their coordinator, several of them would return privately to ask intensely personal questions.  Questions that they weren't about to ask their parents, HCPs, or even close friends. 

Now consider how the "penis sucking" question would have been met within the school system.  An educator would either have to espouse some state-scripted AOUM crap, or (more likely) would chastise the inquirer for being "inappropriate."  If there was an educator on the taxpayer's payroll telling kids that they "approve of pretty much anything," can you imagine the resulting shitstorm?  That would be 24/7 news material, and of course the context would be completely absent from the discourse surrounding the controversy. 

Towards the end of my job coordinating the teens' program, an intern remarked at how comfortable I was being completely honest about my private sexual life.  The initial question of "do you approve of ______" had turned a bit more personal: "Do you ______?"  "Have you ever _____?"  "Why do people like ______?"  "What's the safest way to ______?"  These conversations were generally humorous yet serious, and I felt that by providing answers using my own personal experiences, I was furthering the trust and rapport that would reassure the teens that they could really ask me anything.  I reminded the interns that they absolutely did not have to answer questions about their personal lives if they didn't want to, but that I did because I felt that it normalized sexuality and reaffirmed that sex was a universal and enjoyable part of being human.  And always, I reminded them about our two best friends, consent and safety.

I'm sure some parents (and maybe my bosses) would have raised an eyebrow if they knew what kinds of things I'd shared with my teens, but kids need this kind of blatant honesty, especially when they're so obviously not getting it elsewhere.  Teen sexuality is, in our society, something we're supposed to cringe at, something that's bad and can only be bad.  Hell, the most anti-sex right wingers even believe that the only reason teenagers even think about sex is because they're "told to" by the media and allegedly "anti-morality" feminists.  A recent video put out by the American Life League accused Planned Parenthood in particular of getting teens "addicted" to sex, apparently using masturbation as the "gateway drug" (can't make this shit up).  While this all fits nicely into the religious right's crusade against positive sexuality, it does absolutely nothing to offer teenagers realistic and factual information about their bodies and their sexual lives.  When messages that paint sexuality in a positive light are so absent, teens - especially teen girls - have two choices: they can either adhere to the conservative principle that sex is a commodity to be used in exchange for a husband, or they can follow the media's insistence that sex is a commodity to be used in exchange for social clout.  (Consequently, these two camps decry the other to boost their respective "profit margins."  They also both reaffirm the message that a woman's sexual life is not her own.  That teen girls can use their bodies for whatever purpose best suits their own desires is tragically absent from almost any mainstream debate about sexuality.)

The American Life League would surely accuse me of exposing my peer educators to some vague form of "pornography," but in reality all I ever did was answer questions honestly.  We see childhood as this protected period, and in so many ways it absolutely should be, but we forget that kids are just young humans.  In their own way, kids are sexual creatures just the same - anyone who's had to have "the privacy talk" with their toddler can tell you that - and while it doesn't mean they should be going out and expressing those tendencies with other people until they reach a certain level of maturity, it does mean that we need to have these blatantly honest conversations early and in an age-appropraite way.  The religious right wants us to forget that, to equate masturbation - surely the safest and most self-affirming sexual practice there is - with deviance and dangerous promiscuity.  But they do this to maintain a power structure which is not conducive to one's best possible sexual health.  Sure you can point at the fact that lifelong-monogamous couples aren't likely to contract an STI, but how often does this really work out, and when such a lifestyle decision comes from a culture of sexual repression and not one's autonomous desires, what else is being lost?  It may seem simpler, but in the long-term, is it even worth it? 

I suggest a frankness about sexuality.  An openness.  Such an approach does nothing to encourage teens to be "promiscuous," no... time and time again, research shows that comprehensive sex education results in fewer STIs, lower instances of unintended pregnancies, heightened self-esteem, healthier and more egalitarian relationships.  I also suggest parents quit freaking out when "someone else" talks to their kids about sexuality.  "Someone else" teaches them about almost every other thing, so why not sex?  Especially when that "someone else" is a trained educator who can answer questions that parents may not know the answer to (or may not feel comfortable answering honestly).  Sometimes it's hard to release that kind of control, but parents need to remember that, when it comes to sex education, "someone else" may very well be the best possible option.

Unless of course parents are willing to be the ones on the other side of a video camera, being filmed while their kid asks them a question about "penis sucking."

The Moral Majority

Last week I did a lactation consult at a home where the mother left the TV on.  Usually I am able to completely tune out this kind of thing, but the subject matter of the TV program kept distracting me. (And by the way, how rude is it to leave your TV on during an appointment with someone?)

It was Anderson Cooper's new daytime program, and the subject was "Purity Balls."  Cooper's primary guest was Randy Wilson, "founder" of the "purity ball" concept and obvious Quiverfulling patriarch:


For those not in the know, "Purity Balls" are wedding-like events where pre-teen girls, paraded around in white dresses, pledge to their fathers that they will remain "pure" until marriage.  I'm not kidding, they actually pledge their virginities to their dads.  Perhaps most laughable is their insistance that these events allow women (led by a male hand, of course) to be "empowered" enough to refuse the pressures of risky sexual activity. Incestuous overtones aside, this phenomenon has become just another way for the Religious Right to lay further claim to the female body.  Reaffirming the antiquated notion that a woman's only worth comes from refusal of her own sexuality, Purity Balls not only assume that a woman ought to stay "virginal" until marriage, but that her sexuality must only exist within the confines of heteronormative, monogamous ownership by her husband thereafter. 

Fortunately, the always quick-witted Jessica Valenti, founder of Feministing.com and author of The Purity Myth, was there to make a counter-argument:


The remainder of the episode, from what I caught, was a monotonous argument between audience members.  One group reiterated the obvious sexism that assumes women can't make their own decisions without a male guide, the other defended the idea by citing vague statistics on STIs and unintended pregnancies.  When able, Valenti offered some critique of what was missing from the discussion: one side railed against the repression of sexuality, the other against the dangers of sexual activity as perpetuated by damaging media images, but why aren't we talking more about the commodification of sexuality and offering young girls ways to make truly autonomous decisions about their sexual lives?

Valenti's points didn't resonate all that well, but not because she herself isn't one of the most articulate advocates of positive sexuality.  The problem was the context of the discussion: it was a daytime talk show where complex topics with many gray areas don't exactly get a comprehensive view. 

I will often rail against the concept of "virginity," as I see it as little more than a well-perpetuated social construct.  Pregnancy and STI infection notwithstanding, there are no permanent physiological changes that occur when a person, male- or female-bodied, engages in any kind of sex act with another person, at least none that couldn't be inflicted upon oneself through masturbation.  The other problem is that people identify "virginity" in many different ways: there are folks who have given or received oral sex that will still refer to themselves as "virgins," though they aren't much less likely than a person who has had vaginal intercourse to have contracted an STI.  The presence of a "hymen" (now more accurately called the corona) is still thought of as a litmus test for a woman's supposed "virginity," though in actuality the thing itself rests somewhere between anatomical reality and social myth. 

Wilson and his crew likely identify with the "Moral Majority," a politically-active group of fundamentalist Christians who lobby for their conservative leanings to be made into law.  They want to see not just abortion but also contraception outlawed or severely restricted, they rail against any family or relationship dynamic that does not fit into a "one man one woman" mold, they want to force their religious beliefs into public spaces, and they most certainly do not want to see positive sexuality taught in schools.  And after all this judgment-passing and alienation, they still call themselves the "majority." 

I cringe at the word "morality" for just that reason: I've been socialized to associate it with the above principles.  But the word itself, "morality."  All it means is that a person is aware of their personal values and that they hold themselves to them without compromise.  And in that sense, I'm a highly moral person.  I don't have the kinds of morals that are put upon me by some overarching system of oppression, and in that sense I'm more likely to remain moral without compromise.  Because I truly value what I value.  If I, for example, wanted to have sex with a similar-sexed person, I'd do it consensually and with total ownership of my actions.  I wouldn't do it by toe-tapping in an airport restroom after a full day of crying fire-and-brimstone at the very people I'm trying to sleep with.  Which is, in actuality, how the real majority lives: we set our boundaries, we try to follow them, and when we don't we accept the consequences.  Sometimes our values are dictated by a religious or spiritual belief system, but when that's the case, it's because we've chosen - not been forced - to draw from those systems.  Like it or not, the "Moral Majority" isn't any kind of majority at all.

When I teach middle schoolers about sexual consent within a healthy relationship, I ask the following series of questions:

• Should anyone ever force you to do anything you don't want to do?
• If you only say "yes" to something after being pressured, is it really consensual?
• If you've consented to something in the past, does that mean you've consented to it at any point in the future?
• Do you have the right to revoke consent in the middle of a sexual encounter? 

That last one is the one that trips them up.  The previous three they know the answers to, and they answer them vociferously, "No!  NO!  NO!!!" We tend to forget that kids are smart like that.  But that last one, they have to think about.  Then finally, one kid, usually a female, will shout, "Wait, YES!!!"  The moment where I affirm her answer is an empowering one.  It's empowering for the rest of the group as well, the knowledge that you can test a boundary without committing to it, that you have the full right to stop it when you want to.  That's real sexual autonomy, and I somehow doubt all this is being taught in the supposedly "empowering" Purity Ball classes.

What I'm trying to get at here is this: if the "Purity Ball" crew was really out to empower young women with the tools needed to hold themselves to values that they feel good about, they'd teach them to first explore their own values, then own them for their own sake.  And they certainly wouldn't just target young women. But of course this simply cannot come from the group that calls itself the "Moral Majority."  Such a group exists to force someone else's rules upon large groups of people, rules that keep the female-bodied in a place of subservience and the male-bodied in positions of unrealistic authority, a responsibility which is in its own way oppressive as well.  A truly empowering model would involve imparting upon every young person that they - not their fathers or husbands or whoever else - are in control over their bodies and their sexual lives. 

More Things You Should Never Say To A Divorcee (or future divorcee)

A friend sent me this link from The Stir:
10 Things You Should Never Say To A Divorcee

My favorite, by far, is #5:

“My husband and I had problems -- but we decided to try harder and work it out.” Don’t assume that just because my name is Kim, I Kardashianed my way out of my marriage. Sometimes the best intentions, dogged determination, and all the counseling in the world just isn’t enough to fix what’s broke. That’s a scary thing to accept -- which I suppose is why many people haven’t.

She's absolutely right... that ending the relationship is sometimes the best thing for the relationship is scary.  It's also not something we're brought up to think about.  Traditional marriage is "forsaking all others for as long as you both shall live," which, while many people make it work and are happy forever, is a ridiculous standard to hold the entire human population to.  I remember reading somewhere that a couple purposefully removed "for as long as you both shall live" from their wedding vows because, while at the time it seemed like a lovely thought, they understood that 51% of marriages end in divorce.  They chose the realistic route and just removed it all together.  And of course, the general population flipped their shit, not because the statistic is inaccurate, but because this couple would dare to admit that they, like everyone else, are at risk for divorce.

Being together forever is a challenge that, while admirable, actually just isn't right for lots of people. But we do it because we fall in love and in our society marriage is the natural progression. It's all well and good, and I absolutely do not regret having been married, but recognizing when the relationship has taken its course isn't really something we're brought up to think about.

Conte's piece deals with things you shouldn't say to someone who has recently separated or is still struggling.  I'm sitting here thinking of a few others - things you should never say to someone who has separated, is waiting for the mandatory waiting period for divorce, and has moved on.  

1. "Do you think you'll get back together someday?"
What part of "separated and pursuing divorce" don't you understand?
 
2. "I am just so, so sorry that you two are split."
This is a good thing to say to someone who has recently separated and is still getting over it.  Those of us who are moving on, not so much.  I mean honestly, what are you sorry about?  Sorry that we ended our relationship before bringing kids into the world?  Sorry that the split allowed me to reclaim a fierce independence that suits me?  Sorry that we're both happier now?   

3. "I'm glad you're dating again, but aren't you afraid this is just a rebound relationship??"
You're so right.  There is no possible way that my first real relationship since the split could be anything but a fling to help me get over my failed marriage.  And hey, the idea of my current relationship ending is so something I want to think about months after getting over the last painful break. Let's be real... anyone who's going through a divorce has thought of this already.  And really, if it turns out to just be some escapist fling, who the hell cares?  So long as no one gets pregnant or does anything permanent, what's the harm?

4. "Don't worry... you'll meet someone new and it will be awesome."
Maybe.  Or maybe not.  My happiness isn't necessarily tied in with my ability to be in a relationship with another person (and neither is yours). 

Contrast this one with number 3... this is the one that people say when you haven't started dating "soon enough." Everyone has a magic number in their heads about how soon is too soon, how soon is not soon enough, etc.  The truth is, there is no magic number... different people have different priorities, different relationships have different healing periods, and usually you don't realize it's the right time (or wrong time) to start dating again until you do.

5. "I know of a really good divorce lawyer."
Really now?  What makes you think I need one?  This goes back to the idea that divorce is always messy, that it always involves the two partners fighting tooth-and-nail over every last piece of community property, and that everyone even has the ability to pay a lawyer $400 an hour for some bullshit competition.  If I want/need a recommendation for legal services, I'll ask for one.    

6. "My aunt's coworker's hairdresser got divorced and thought she was fine, but two years later it really 'hit her' and she realized she never really grieved the loss of her marriage."
Why even say this??  Yeah, thanks for that heads up... I guess all those weeks of sleeping all the time and forcing myself to eat was just a preview of the shitstorm to come.  I'd better brace myself for the remote possibility that I'm going to have a nervous breakdown in a few years because your aunt's coworker's hairdresser is really good at repressing her shit.     

7. "How are your parents taking it?"
Oh gee, I don't know... last I checked I was the one getting the divorce and they were in Hawaii celebrating their 40th wedding anniversary.  I know they're essentially losing a member of their family, but fuck... my ex and I both have enough on our plates without having to concern ourselves with how other people are dealing with our relationship ending.     

 
8. "Don't worry... you're young and you've still got lots of time."
Lots of time until what?  Until old age comes and takes away any chance of me ever finding true happiness?  Until my ladyparts dry up and I can no longer fulfill my womanly duty to reproduce?  Until I'm classified as an "old maid" and become doomed to a life of loneliness and eccentric-cat-ladyness? 

9. "So who's side are all your mutual friends on?"
Srsly?  Just... srsly?


10. "The divorce rate is just so high.  It's really depressing."
My apologies for becoming a statistic that depresses you.  I guess I should have just stayed in a bad relationship so that you don't ever have to worry your pretty little head over such awful things.  

2011: A Farewell Letter

It was the year that effectively kicked my ass.

Friends sit around a table and discuss how amazing 2011 was.  They're referencing the Arab Spring, Madison, Occupy, and other amazing grassroots efforts that reignited the spirit of people's victory here and around the world.  I try to bask in the same feeling of solidarity, but my year was decidedly more complicated.

It was early July when C and I officially split, but the months leading up to that point were inwardly tumultuous.  I was intensely focused on my classes and internship, my doula mamas, my writing, and anything else to keep myself distracted from my marriage's imminent demise.  Friends didn't see much of me, and if they did, I was distant and disengaged.

When the walls of your lovely complacent life come crashing down, it's excruciating.  For me, it didn't come as a slow, steady fall but as an all-at-once implosion.  I spent the better part of a week lying in bed either sleeping or wishing I was asleep.  I was taking small fistfuls of Klonopin at regular intervals. Friends came by to force feed me and make sure my cats had food themselves.  I didn't shower.  I didn't go to consults.  I even missed a job interview.

The exact details of the next few weeks are too fuzzy (or just too depressing) to write out here, so I'll skip ahead to early October.

I'm outside in the back yard on a cool evening.  The air feels clearer, as the summer's oppressive humidity is finally gone.  A couple of girlfriends are coming by in a while.  I'm basking in the fact that I have just built my first fire... C always did it before (he's very good at it).  I realize the obvious symbolism here: she who can build her own fire is she who can survive, as such an ability is at the crux of survival.  Somewhere in the past few weeks, survival had become second nature and I was ready to thrive.  I decided later that night (after about a bottle and a half of wine) that I was a fucking fire goddess and was completely in control of everything I wished to be in control over.  I awoke the next morning with a renewed sense of self... once the hangover cleared, of course.

I believe it was somewhere on the LIRR later that month when I realized how long this had needed to happen.  I wasn't in love anymore, and I wasn't sure exactly how long that had been going on.  I was thrilled.  I returned to Greensboro during the heydays of our Occupy encampment, spent some nights cooking and hanging out, and felt alive for the first time in months.

The month that followed was nothing if not interesting, as I decided I needed to put out all my fires with gasoline and basically explode into a brilliant display of pure energy.  Thankfully my near-daily yoga practice kept me grounded in stillness when stillness was needed (see the many previous posts on the matter).  I have only my dearest friends and comrades to thank for the constant support and ongoing love during this time... the life of a ball of pure energy is nothing if not ridiculous.  Energy does dumb shit... let me rephrase, it lives on stupidity and bad choices.  There were more than a couple of mornings when I didn't exactly recall driving home from wherever I'd been the previous night.  I can only thank the universe for delivering me home safely so that I could live to see my current lovely existence.

I'm being purposefully vague here, as I'm not a huge fan of putting every ounce of my personal life onto a public space, but suffice to say I am happier than I have been in maybe years. The months of November and December have been phenomenal.  I haven't thrown caution to the wind, believe me on that, but when something beautiful rises from the ashes of your life's most profound implosion, you can't not feel like the luckiest person on the planet.

Divorce is something people pity, something you're supposed to come away from with regrets and anger.  But I maintain neither regret nor anger at the way my marriage ended.  2011 was complicated.  It was the year the relationship I have maintained for my entire adult life ended, abruptly at that, leaving in its wake a whole host of anxiety and pain.  It was the single most excruciating experience either of us could have endured.  But the gaping wound is fast on the mend, and I'm looking forward into 2012 with a renewed sense of hope, a new outlook on myself and on love in general.

That being said, there is a very good chance that I will look back on 2011 as the best fucking year of my life.