Snips, Spice, Sugar, Snails - Gender Identification

The most important thing about you is your gender.

Really.  Want to know how I know?  It's the first thing anyone asked when they found out you were born.  Unless there were complications, it's the first thing the doctor told your parents.  It's the first label you got in this world.  It's why you were no longer an "it."

The doctor told your parents which gender you were and it will be a part of your life forever.  You will be checking that gender box on forms for the rest of your life.  Hundreds, maybe thousands, of forms.  Declaring your gender.  It's kind of a big deal.

Is it really the most important thing about you?  I don't know.  But it is a big deal.

I'm a science girl.  For me, the question of whether someone is male or female is usually pretty simple.  If they have a penis, they're a boy.  If not, they're a girl.  Seems pretty simple, huh?

And there was a time when I believed it was that simple.  But that was a long time ago.

Even speaking scientifically, it's not always that simple.  There are cases when a person has mixed gentalia.  Sometimes external male genitals and internal female genitals.  Along with other situations, this can get complicated.  And I'm not going to lie, when I was pregnant I worried about this.  (Because when you are pregnant you worry about everything!)  I worried that when my baby was born there would be some question as to gender and I would be faced with incredibly difficult decisions that could affect this small person forever.  It wasn't a big worry, it's not common, but it was a possibility that crossed my mind.

I have no idea what I would do in that situation other than pray a lot.  I would do a lot of soul searching to try to do what was best for that child.  I don't believe people are ever put in the wrong bodies.  (But I understand why others disagree with me on this.)

Fortunately, I have been blessed.  All of my children have been definitely male or female at birth.  I have also been blessed that each of them feels comfortable with their gender and accepts it as correct for them, as far as I know.  And I have always felt comfortable being female.

But there is so much more to gender identification.  There are parental preferences.  There are social prejudices.  There are nurturing styles.  There are abuse situations.  There are hormones in our food.  And there are so many societal expectations and definitions of what it means to be male or female.

It's not just about your body and science.  It's not just about what parts you have.  Part of gender identification is external; part of it is internal.

There is so much more to talk about.

**********
This post is part of an on-going series discussing gender issues.  To start at the beginning, go here.

My Scary Super Power

We all have things we're good at.  Things we do better than others.  Sometimes, lots better.  We think of them as gifts, talents, abilities.  And I have those, too.

But I think, every now and then, we discover something about ourselves that is so powerful that it scares us.  It's just something we do.  We didn't understand what it really meant.  And then something happens which brings it front and center. 

When this happened to me I freaked out.  I panicked.  I swore to never use my power again.

I have the power of persuasion.  And it scares me.

I used to think it was cool to win an argument or get my way.  I used to like using words to convince my friends to do what I wanted instead of what they wanted.  I used to like using logic to disprove what everyone knew was true -- to the point that everyone was questioning what they believed before.

It's not cool.  It's dangerous.

So many people don't want to make decisions.  They don't want to think for themselves.  They don't want to choose.  And I have often had people try to put me in the position of making the decision for them (which I am actually not doing even if I tell them what to do; they are still choosing to do what I said).

Before I understood this I answered requests for advice.  What do you think I should do?  And I would tell them.  I figured everyone else was like me and would seek lots of advice, do their own research, and follow their heart.  I was wrong.  People would ask.  I would answer.  They would do.

I remember the first time someone said they did something because, "Robin said I should."  WHAT?  No, I didn't.  I just tried to give you more information.  Just my opinion.  Not a directive.

I don't want that kind of responsibility.

But, like King Midas and X-Men, sometimes it's tough to not use this power.  I don't even know I'm influencing someone and then hear later that I changed their mind.

I can argue either side of most questions.  I am quite analytical.  I am logical.  I am good with words.  And I am a student of human behavior, so after a few sentences back and forth I can tell whether this person is arguing with their heart or mind and which area they feel strongest about and which attack will work.  It's kind of like a sport I am naturally good at.  It just happens.

I have learned to be very cautious when answering a request for advice.  If I sense that this person wants me to make their decision for them, I try to give arguments on both sides.  I'm good at seeing options.  And usually people asking for advice aren't seeing options.  I try to give several options without weighing any of them more heavily than the other so they don't think I'm telling them to do this or that.

Why won't I decide for them?  Why won't I tell them what to do?  Especially all those people who are obviously screwing up their lives that I can easily see the answers to?  Because I did in the past and it was bad.

There is always information I don't have.  They don't grow if they aren't self-determining.  And because I believe to my core that each of us should choose for ourselves whenever possible.

And that is something I would like to persuade you of.  That you should choose for yourself.  I believe it with all my heart.  Because that is what this power is truly for.  To testify of truth in a way that allows others the chance to choose it for themselves.  Because we are all more capable, more powerful, than we know.

Fact Check: A True Friend is Always There for You

Poppycock!  Seriously, I'm calling a big baloney on this one.

I'm going to go out on a limb here and say that this is a girl truism.  We women think this is true.  We tell other women it's true.  We all want to have that kind of friend.  We all feel pressure to be that kind of friend.

Well, let me tell you right now, I don't believe this kind of friend exists.  I don't believe this person exists.  And if she does, she is very unhealthy emotionally.

Let's talk about a real friend.  Let's call her Jane.  Jane is a great friend.  She loves you and supports you.  She listens to you when you are struggling.  She calls you on it when you are avoiding things out of fear.  She loves you even after you yell at her when you're having a bad day.  She is a great friend.

But Jane has crises in her life, too.  Jane sometimes leaves town.  Jane sometimes gets sick.  Jane sometimes gets angry with you and doesn't want to talk to you.  Jane sometimes has emotional breakdowns and has nothing left for you.

When you've had a fight with your husband and think your world is ending, Jane may be dealing with the loss of her dear mother.  She just can't comfort you right now.

Sometimes Jane just isn't there for you.

Why?  If Jane is a true friend, why won't she put everything in her life aside to make you feel better?

Because she is a person, too.  And she's not in charge of making you happy -- you are.  She is in charge of making herself happy and taking care of her emotional needs.

That's why we all need a support system.  Not just a best friend.

As part of self-care, it's your responsibility to build a support system for yourself.  No one is going to do it for you.  People aren't just going to fall into your life and become important to you and supportive of you without any effort on your part.  You have to reach out.  You have to open up.  You have to risk rejection and find those people.  And it will probably take many of them to get you through this life.  Because life is tough and we need others.

No one should be the ONLY person in the world who understands you and can help you through.  That's just not a kind position to put someone in.  It's unrealistic and it's selfish.  Even if it's your spouse.

Reach out.  Make friends.  Find support.  Let your friends be real people. 

And if you're Jane, quit trying to be everyone's saving grace and just be Jane.  A good friend who helps and supports when it's healthy to do so.

Snips, Spice, Sugar, Snails - An Introduction

Gender.  What does that mean to you?  Does it inspire questions or debate in your mind?  How often do you find yourself thinking about it or discussing it?  How often do you reference it?  How much does it affect your life and how you interact with those around you?

I've been pondering gender a lot lately.  And I have some thoughts.  Some things to say.  Some practices to question.  Maybe some pots to stir.

But I have too many thoughts for one post.  So I have decided to do a series of posts on the subject of gender.

I am not a fan of stirring controversy.  Really, I usually like to keep my political and religious beliefs to myself.  I do not feel a need to convince others to believe what I believe.

But I imagine that my beliefs may color some of what I say.  So I guess I better get some of them out in the open.

I believe we existed before we came to this earth.  I believe that gender was part of who we were then.  I don't believe we came to earth as a girl or boy because God assigned that to us; I believe we came as whatever we were before.  If you are a girl on earth, I believe you were a girl before earth.

I also believe there are some really big questions about gender and gender-related issues that I don't know the answers to.  Things I have thought about, studied, and prayed about that I am still unsure of.  There are things I haven't taken a position on.

There are generalities.  And there are exceptions.  There are assumptions.  And there are truths.

There is love.  And hate.  And fear.  And confusion.

And I want to talk about some of these.

**********
This post is part of an on-going series on gender issues.  If you would like to continue this thread, go here.

Doing It Out of Obligation

I read an interesting article today that has me thinking.  So, of course, that means I need to write.

This post by Jowita Bydlowska, A Failed Woman Out of the Kitchen: Why I Don't Cook, appears on The Huffington Post website.  It is one woman's explanation of why she doesn't cook.

I do not intend to pull apart her arguments.  I will say that if you say there is a difference between selfishness and self-interest (knowing that you have to state it because people will accuse you of one when you claim to be the other), you ought to at least try to define the difference.  I will also say that while she claims not to have a political agenda, with all her references to societal expectations about gender roles and how they make her feel like a failure sometimes, she has at least taken a political stance.  Also, her assertion that a painting or photograph is a higher art form than a beautifully prepared pie says a lot about her feelings toward women (and men) who consider food an art.

But none of this is what has me thinking.  The idea that bothers me from this essay is that doing something out of obligation is wrong.

Please understand, I don't like to cook either.  I don't cook well.  I don't derive satisfaction from a meal well prepared.  It's part of the reason I got the rest of my family cooking as soon as they were able.  I don't care if this woman cooks, bakes, or pickles.  It's her family and they can all work out what's best for them.

I am also in full support of taking care of one's self.  I believe there is an amount of selfishness in every healthy individual.  I believe it is appropriate.  We must meet our own needs, and that includes the need for creative outlet and relaxation.

I also believe that when I chose to start a family, I chose to accept the obligation to care for them.  My husband and I chose this together.  The obligation is shared.  It is up to us to decide how the obligations involved are to be met.  (And if something were to happen that he were no longer able or willing to fulfill his part of the obligation, I would assume his share as part of my obligation.)

In our case, he is the primary breadwinner and I am the primary nurturer.  It fits us.  I am happy in my role and he is happy in his.  Maybe not every day, but most days.

I think the point that is missing in this article is the idea that we choose to accept obligations.  I chose to have kids.  I chose to care for their well being.  My husband chose to work.  They are our obligations because we agreed to them.

I do not believe in society-dictated obligations, aside from obeying the law.  If society thinks I should cook, that doesn't make me believe that I should.  I weigh my options, listen to my heart, and do what I think is right.

Other people have expectations.  Other people have ideas about what or who I should be.  That does not mean I am obligated to fulfill those roles.

Obligations are something I choose when I make an agreement with someone.  Doing something out of obligation is not a bad thing.  It is a way for me to do my part.  It is how I earn my share of whatever I get in this life.  Fulfilling my obligations, those I chose to accept, makes me feel good about who I am and what I offer to the world.

A Difference of Opinion

How do you handle it when you have a difference of opinion from someone else?

There are times I think I handle it well.  I have a good friend with whom I frequently disagree, especially about politics.  Sometimes people come to our book club just to watch the heated discussion they know my friend and I will be having.  We argue and debate.  We get passionate.  But in the end we are still friends and we are able to let things go.  I believe it's because we approach our discussion with mutual respect.  The fact that we disagree doesn't mean we think the other person is stupid.  We don't call each other names.  We don't bring in irrelevant events to try to prove the other person is lacking in intelligence and so their argument can't be valid.  I believe I have a healthy dialogue with this woman.  We are friends who work well together in our church callings.  We choose to get together for game nights.  Despite our political differences, we remain friends.

Maybe my friend deserves more of the credit here than I do.

Because there are other people I don't argue with as respectfully.  There are some people who choose to attack when they disagree.  Sometimes I can remain in control and be polite in these disagreements.  Sometimes I lose it.  Sometimes I get right down in the mud with that person.  Even if I win the argument, I come away feeling dirty.

This is how I feel about my last post.  I responded to a post by a fellow blogger.  And I did so badly.  Something she said struck a nerve.  I did not intend to be unkind in my response, but I was.  I had a juvenile moment and attacked.  Not my shining moment.

I disagree with her point of view.  I believe women should be told they are of worth no matter how they look.  I believe women should be told they are wonderful even if they choose to spend the whole day in their pajamas.  I believe we should do all we can to build women up.  I believe we should strengthen each other and back up a woman's right to choose her own path.  I want women to feel the freedom to be whoever they want to be, regardless of society's dictates.  And that includes my fellow blogger.

Because I fought back in an immature way, my message was lost.  And I did not offer this woman the same support I was arguing for.  Sometimes I get so frustrated by women thinking they have to be what society tells them to be that I forget some women actually choose that route because it's right for them.

This woman has made choices in her life because she felt they were right for her.  More power to her.  I believe all women should be able to choose for themselves and with far less judgment.

I apologize for letting my emotions overtake my manners.  I apologize for being unkind.  I apologize for not arguing her right to choose for herself because I didn't agree with her choice.

Thanks for the Sting

Every now and then I receive a comment on my blog that bugs me.  I can't really put my finger on why.  What is it about that comment that irritates me so?  Makes me feel like I need to defend myself?  It wasn't mean, exactly.  So why did it sting?

Well, today I think I finally found my answer.  I got my first truly snotty comment.  It was on an older post.  And a fairly popular one.  It felt like a slap in the face.  A moment of shock.

But there was beauty to it as well.  You see, it was written in a way that helped me figure out what had been bugging me about those other comments.  And in such a way that it showed the insecurities of the woman writing it.  It was obviously her issue and she was projecting.  I am grateful for that.  Because it was so evident in hers, I can see it in others' as well.

So what was it?  What is it that bugs me so much in those comments?  It's someone else assuming that they know what my motivations are.  It's someone else telling me how I feel.  It's someone else putting words into my mouth.  Basically, it's all the childish arguments I've had over the years with people who would rather attack me than argue their point.  It's not debate.  It's not stating your opinion and backing it up.  It's saying, "You don't agree with me so you're stupid!"

I've had way too much experience with this kind of arguing.  Too often I don't see it when it happens.  I am hurt and can't figure out why.  I feel defensive.  I feel like a little girl being chastised for not being good enough.  I feel like I'm being told that everything that's wrong is my fault.

And those are my issues.

But because this woman took the time to comment, in all her snarky glory, I was able to see it.  I was able to see that when a person attacks like this, it's not about me.  It's about them.  And just because they blame me or think I am stupid it doesn't mean I am.  They may throw the label out there but I don't have to choose to wear it.

So if any of you have the need to tell me how I feel, you may.  And I will not argue with you.  You can just be wrong.  And I can be right.  And I don't have to prove to you that I am right or defend myself.  It's okay if I'm the only one who knows.

To that wonderful woman who gave me this gift this morning, thank you.  It may not have been what you intended, but it turned out great for me.  Good luck to you as you work through your insecurities.  I hope some day you can receive a similar slap in the face that helps you become the person you want to be.  And I said that in all kindness and sincerity.

Thanks for the sting.

Politics *shudder*

I understand that politics are a necessary evil, like gynecologists.  But it doesn't mean I have to be happy about it.

I remember my high school U.S. History class with Mr. C.  The U.S. Constitution was definitely the most intense section.  He felt strongly that we should not enter the world without a knowledge of our rights and responsibilities.  We pulled the constitution apart in that class, not arguing positions, just learning what it said.  I learned how the three branches of government are supposed to work together, how different people are elected, and so much more.  We put together a Constitutional Journal, with a copy of the constitution and many supporting and informative documents, for our personal use (I kept this for many years).  And when it came time for testing, it was enough to make some people cry.  About 14 pages of fill-in-the-blank and essay.  We reviewed for two class periods in preparation.  We had to write word for word the oath of the President of the U.S. and the Preamble.  It was awesome!

I registered to vote as soon as I was 18.  I voted by absentee ballot my first eligible election day.  You see, I was in a political science class and was busy on election day doing exit polling for that class.  I was young and naive.  I imagined two good men (late 80s, hadn't seen lots of women in politics yet) running against each other, trying to do what they thought best.  I imagined a respectable contest of presentation and preferences.

That was a long time ago.

Today I see it differently.  I see so much deal making, palm greasing, and back stabbing.  I understand that sometimes you have to cut a deal to make something happen.  I'm okay with that.  Give a little to get a little.  Take the bill that's less than perfect to get a step closer to what you're going for.

But politics is so visceral today.  People get so angry with those of opposing opinions.  Blocking bills and appointments just to get more leverage.  And our politicians are always running for something.  They are always worried about public approval.  They spend so much time trying to keep everyone happy that they get paralyzed.  They go into politics hoping to change things only to find out that you play the game or you go home.

Everyone has a poll.  There are numbers to support anything.  Spin is a glorious thing, a way to prove whatever you want.

I will tell you a little secret about polls.  Their accuracy is dependent on many factors.  They can be read many ways.  And you can even create a poll designed to get the responses you want (push poll).

All a poll will give you is numbers.  Let's say it is a clean poll (not a push poll), with a large sampling, and an error margin of +/- 3.  That's a pretty good poll.  But all it will give you is numbers.  The numbers are facts.  What they mean is opinion.  This is why opponents use the same polls to back up different points of view.

And they will do so vociferously.  With great volume and energy.  And frequently in anger.  This is the part I really don't like.  I do not like arguing.  I do not like the anger and disdain with which politicians or their representatives so often treat each other.

And I do not like the way close friends or family members become enemies, shouting at each other, because they don't agree.

Politics can be discussed passionately AND with respect.  It just doesn't happen enough.

And so, while I have strong feelings politically, I generally don't talk about them unless I am asked.  And sometimes not even then.  I do not feel a desire to convince others to agree with me.  I do not intend to defend my political positions to anyone.  I will use my vote as I see fit.

If someone wants to have an open discussion with both of us honestly seeking to understand each other, I am in.  If someone just wants to make their points, prove their own superiority, count me out.  I know my rights; I have the right to remain silent.

Of Books and Women

What is book club? 

My eleven-year old asked me this recently.  She asked if we each take turns and just read to a certain spot like in her reading circles at school.  I smiled as I imagined us reading Gaskell's North and South together as a group.  If we read for two hours each meeting it would take us about a year to finish the book.

So I explained to her that we each read the chosen book on our own and then get together to discuss it.  She seemed to get it.

This question was asked because of my griping.  I am not thrilled with the book chosen for book club this month.  I keep referring to it as my homework.  I keep complaining about having to read it.

And I have been told more than once by more than one person I live with, "So don't read it then."

But I can't.  I have to read it.

I don't always read the books.  Sometimes they just don't interest me or I can't get one in my hands soon enough.  Or I had other things to do that were more important to me.  This time I just flat out disagree with the author of the book.

But my reason for attending book club is not what it used to be.  I used to go as an excuse to get out of my house for the evening.  Or to spend some time with adults having real conversations.  And those things still apply.

However, my main drive for being part of book club now is to share in others' opinions.  To not only be exposed to literature that I wouldn't pick on my own, but to see how others see what we read.  How they feel.  What they learned.  Not only do I grow as a person, but I get to know my neighbors so much better by looking through their windows on the world.

And I have been told that I am an important part of book club precisely for the reason that I am often the dissenting opinion.  They want to see things differently, too.

Imagine that.  I have finally found a place where my disagreeability is a good thing.