I'm assuming if you're reading this, you've already heard about the UC Santa Barbara shooting this weekend. If you haven't, here's one link to the story: http://abcnews.go.com/US/killed-mass-murder-shooting-uc-santa-barbara/story?id=23853918
I heard about it two nights ago as I was scrolling through tumblr (as one does instead of sleeping). My dashboard was full of posts about how this is solely a feminist issue and how women everywhere are now terrified of getting shot because men can't handle rejection. I take issue with this.
What I don't like about social media is that people tend to present the most radical position. Then HUGE angry arguments break out over who is right and people stop listening to each other. Tumblr was divided into 3 Camps. Camp A: Feminist only. They claimed that Rodger killed those women because society trains men to believe that they are entitled to women sexually as if they are prizes for having a penis. Camp B: Psychologists only. According to them, mental illness is to blame specifically Aspergers, likely combined with a conduct disorder. Camp C (a statistically null camp) was (mostly) men who only appeared in youtube comments to express their solidarity with Rodgers. They sympathize with the pain of rejection and threaten women to not reject men. For obvious reasons, I will not be defending Camp C though they do play an important role in the discussion.
There is no way the shootings were ONLY because Rodger was a misogynist or ONLY because he may have been mentally ill. I read this transcript of Rodger's suicide video: http://www.cnn.com/2014/05/24/us/elliot-rodger-video-transcript/. Give it a look, his views of women have certainly been molded by our patriarchal society that teaches men to use women. If you're not going to read the whole thing, here's a sample: "You girls have never been attracted to me. I don't know why you girls aren't attracted to me, but I will punish you all for it. It's an injustice, a crime, because... I don't know what you don't see in me. " Obviously not the words of the respectful "gentleman" he claims to be 3 lines later. Because tumblr and google exist, I'm not going to take more time to explain why this is definitely a feminist issue that deserves attention as such.
However it is undeniably also an issue of disability and mental illness. Every man gets rejected by someone at some point in his life. Not every man shoots up a school. When someone is "mentally healthy" they do not chose to murder 7 people and then take their own life. That is not a statistically typical reaction to rejection (though it does happen frequently enough that we need to take it seriously). I'm not a psychologist and I did not know Rodger on a personal clinical level, but after reading his suicide transcript, I would venture to guess that he was not emotionally well. And not in a typical, "everyday disappointment" kind of way, but in an antisocial personality disorder kind of way. Thankfully, we are finally starting to give mental illnesses like depression and anxiety validation and understanding. Antisocial personality disorder and other conduct disorders deserve this same visibility. This is a really ugly side of psychological problems. I think we ignore them because they're less common and so uncomfortable to think about. By acknowledging that this Rodger probably suffered from a conduct disorder we are NOT justifying his actions or ignoring the other social factors (such as feminism) at play. Rather, we are looking at the whole picture instead of oversimplifying a complex situation.
Though less of a diagnostic factor, social media has overwhelmingly ignored Rodger's asperger's syndrome diagnosis. A year ago Rodger's parents reported that he was being harassed in school and was pushed off a balcony, potentially by his peers in an act of bullying. His suicide video is all about how the kids he goes to school with are cruel to him. Asperger's is more of a secondary factor, but could this not have been prevented if people understood more about autism and other diagnosis that severely effect social functioning? I am not saying that Rodger's classmates are at fault or that their deaths are justified. But if we can place blame on the social ill that is the patriarchy, can we not also place some blame our society's ignorance of people with autism spectrum disorders?
Also, gun control. No one is talking about gun control. I'm not going to because I want to focus on the social issues and frankly I haven't researched it enough to form an educated opinion. But again, we are ignoring so many factors in this case.
It upsets me that people are so eager to pick a side and ignore the big picture. Seven people were killed, many more were injured, and one committed suicide. This is far more complex than a battle between whether this is a feminist or ablest issue. To simplify it to a battle between politics means we are not respecting the situation seriously enough to look at the grey areas that no one is comfortable discussing.
This IS a feminist issue, this IS an issue of mental health awareness, and this IS an issue of gun control. Among countless other factors that I'm not going to go into detail about.
With that said, I would love to hear your thoughts if you disagree with my point of view on this whole thing. But please, lets make it a discussion rather than an accusation.
Kait
Monday, May 26, 2014
Friday, May 9, 2014
College Graduation!
Whooooooo!!!!!
Done with formal schooling 5ever!!!!
I'm really excited about this if you can't tell. I don't really have anything prolific to say but it feels important enough to warrant some from of blog update. I much prefer this to high school graduation. Way less of a production. Plus our gowns looked so much better than the grey sack I had to wear at Parma. The one wardrobe mistake I did make was forgetting to buy nice shoes to wear under it. So I wore pants and boots. Which I thought looked collegiate and badass, until I got there and realized that my roommate Emily and I were two of three chicks in pants. Even then I still thought it looked collegiate and badass, so actually I don't care. But again, worth noting. Unless you want to be in a very small minority, wear a dress ladies. Proceeded to take a whole bunch of pictures, I'm looking at the correct camera in maybe four of them. Maybe.
Mostly I feel like I just put a huge stamp of completion over a huge phase of my life. All I have left to do at Loyola proper is a little bit of costume shop business and them I'm wrapped up. Similar to the feeling when you finally finish all your assignments for a term and you get to go on winter break. But this time I know that I don't have to apply for classes or order books or anything. Sweet sweet relief.
Plus I just transferred most of my important emails to gmail, and figured out how to organize my gmail. I'm not going to lie, I didn't realize you could organize your email. Like I always thought it was either in your inbox or you deleted it. And since the internet is a limitless black hole, I just left everything in there. Then I heard my friends who work in administration critiquing each other's email organization and I was like, shit I need to google some things. Long story short, I feel that I have absolutely entered adulthood because my inbox is nearly empty.
That pretty much wraps it up. My parents left and were like, "alright, go party it up" and I was like, "I got up at 7 this morning. I'm going to watch netflix." Goodnight.
Kaitlyn
Done with formal schooling 5ever!!!!
I'm really excited about this if you can't tell. I don't really have anything prolific to say but it feels important enough to warrant some from of blog update. I much prefer this to high school graduation. Way less of a production. Plus our gowns looked so much better than the grey sack I had to wear at Parma. The one wardrobe mistake I did make was forgetting to buy nice shoes to wear under it. So I wore pants and boots. Which I thought looked collegiate and badass, until I got there and realized that my roommate Emily and I were two of three chicks in pants. Even then I still thought it looked collegiate and badass, so actually I don't care. But again, worth noting. Unless you want to be in a very small minority, wear a dress ladies. Proceeded to take a whole bunch of pictures, I'm looking at the correct camera in maybe four of them. Maybe.
Mostly I feel like I just put a huge stamp of completion over a huge phase of my life. All I have left to do at Loyola proper is a little bit of costume shop business and them I'm wrapped up. Similar to the feeling when you finally finish all your assignments for a term and you get to go on winter break. But this time I know that I don't have to apply for classes or order books or anything. Sweet sweet relief.
Plus I just transferred most of my important emails to gmail, and figured out how to organize my gmail. I'm not going to lie, I didn't realize you could organize your email. Like I always thought it was either in your inbox or you deleted it. And since the internet is a limitless black hole, I just left everything in there. Then I heard my friends who work in administration critiquing each other's email organization and I was like, shit I need to google some things. Long story short, I feel that I have absolutely entered adulthood because my inbox is nearly empty.
That pretty much wraps it up. My parents left and were like, "alright, go party it up" and I was like, "I got up at 7 this morning. I'm going to watch netflix." Goodnight.
Kaitlyn
Monday, May 5, 2014
Date A Girl Who Dances. The Rebuttal.
Hello Friends.
I just finished my final final of college! I'm not feeling the least bit sentimental about it right now, but I'm sure there will be some mushy blogs in the month to come.
The end of the semester means that I finally have time to deconstruct this article I stumbled upon on facebook. I've been waiting for weeks. Here's a link to it: http://www.buzzfeed.com/steffirina/date-a-girl-who-dances-op3t The article, called "Date A Girl Who Dances, is written by Steffi Carter. At first read, I was embarrassed by her portrayal of dancers, but through further examination I found it littered with red flags as it relates to feminism and dance culture.
Let's jump right in, shall we?
The Title: "Date A Girl Who Dances"
YES. All about this. I am a girl. I dance. You should date me. Absolutely on board.
Well. It's downhill from here. You absolutely should read the whole thing, but I'll give you my highlights.
"Date a girl whose eyes get glassy when assaulted by new music because she can’t help choreographing, casting, living and dying in her mind."
I can't shake the image of me at my first death metal concert. This is about the only time I have every been truly assaulted by a piece of music. And by assaulted I mean it was so suddenly loud that I almost fell over. I humiliated myself in a room full of folks that looked like they could eat me alive and I've made it a goal to not repeat the incident. I personally feel like I can handle listening to music. I mean, I can do the fucking splits. Music does not make me catatonic.
"Find a girl who dances. You’ll know that she does because she will seem to move endlessly. She will sway to the sounds of the city, fidget every few minutes, crack her knuckles and her neck, roll each wrist and cross the other leg just so she feels even. She will forget herself and where she is, the length of her skirt and the strangeness of what she’s about to do when something falls from her lovely, articulate hands to the floor. She will not bend at the knees because she does not have to, folding instead at the waist to execute the kill. That’s the dancer. When she straightens, she will laugh at herself, and her collarbone will beg you waltz with her."
Ah. The illusive, mysterious dancer creature. A rare breed. Certainly not human. Certainly not fit to navigate the city without getting lost in the bustle. Very strange. Personally, I prefer to bend my knees to pick stuff up. Unless there's a cute girl behind me and I'm having a good butt day. What I'm getting at here is that I'm interpreting most of these qualities as negative and kind of crazy. I absolutely like to roll each wrist to feel even, but for me that's a residual ocd type habit that I personally don't want to glorify. And this "finding the dancer" game has a predator/prey feel that I am NOT into when it comes to dating.
"Such proximity to a pedestrian has reawakened an awareness of her abnormality; she had nearly forgotten, again, that not everyone needs a tutu to feel alive."
Mmm. Abnormal. Flattering.
"See if she cries when she doesn’t make the cut, and learn to anticipate what she needs before and after that audition. Remember what needs massaging, and when. Understand that it is a rare treat indeed for her to really be at rest, to have a day off from running to and from rehearsals, and to take a break from being beautiful."
Oh the patronizing! I can't! Please ladies, can we stop perpetuating this stereotype that we can't stand on our own two feet? I mean yeah, I have wept my way through many a post-callback situation, we've all been there, but give yourself some credit here! Many dancers can push their bodies very far physically and the professional performing world is full of bullshit that we just have to take. You're pretty damn strong. And this bit about taking a break from being beautiful? Please. The connection to female beauty standards doesn't bear deconstructing.
"Technically, she was never trained to talk. She was trained to listen. Let her speak when she finds her voice. Do not ask her to make sense."
Pardon? Never trained to talk? This tells young female dancers that they should keep quiet. Women's voices have been historically undervalued if not completely ignored. There have been WAVES of feminists who worked their asses off to give women more of a voice and I REFUSE to forfeit the progress we have made because I also happen to express myself through dance. Some of the most articulate people I have met are dancers. Setting the bar this low should not be something to aspire to.
"It’s easy to date a girl who dances. Give her ibuprofen in bulk for her birthday"
For the record, I prefer M&Ms and chewing gum. I can handle my own medical supplies thank you.
"Look at her. Stare."
But actually, please don't. I prefer not to be objectified. Thanks.
"Because she’s unreal. The human equivalent of a black cat, with that same mesmerizing and vaguely alarming quality in the way she slinks toward you."
Jesus. I am very real. I am not a fucking ethereal fairy thing. Side note, what about my slinky walk is alarming? The last thing I want to do when I am slinkying towards someone is alarm them.
"Date a girl who dances because you deserve it. You deserve a girl who adores everything you do, every little thing about you...This is a woman who rehearses for weeks on end for maybe one minute onstage — do you think she does anything because it is easy?"
That's right. Hey dancer, you thought this article would be about how great you are? Nope. It's about the other guy. He deserves you. You deserve...it's not in this article. Now go back to your slinking. This also suggests that the dancer is the one that puts all the energy into the relationship for very little payback. Do you really want that?
"You want a girl who bites off more than she can chew because she is the most flexible, most sensitive, most ambitious, most big-hearted of the bunch."
Well. I do happen to be pretty flexible. So if you're into that.
"You deserve a girl who doesn’t break easy, a girl who’s prepared for a bit of pain for the sake of of beauty."
Please God ladies, don't idolize pain in order to be beautiful. It's not healthy. Don't glorify pain in relationships either.
"She’ll embody the ebb and flow of that tide between well-established vanity and soul-crushing insecurity"
That's right, that triple pirouette makes you vain and soul-crushingly insecure. Best of both worlds really.
The End. But Not Actually.
Ok. That's the end of the article, but I have a few more general comments.
Firstly, I get it. This is a buzzfeed article. It doesn't need to be politically correct. And if you read the article and identified with it or liked it, you do you. I'm not going to tell you how to feel about something (she says after finishing a very opinionated blog). But at the same time, when an article like this gets a lot of attention, we need to acknowledge what it says about dancers and women in our culture. By othering dancers as these mysterious, inarticulate, mentally unstable, non-human creatures we are creating a potentially dangerous standard if universalized.
Also, this only addresses girls. And I understand that the title specifically implies this, but if you refer to "dancer" as only female, you're ignoring all the men and gender non-specified folks. They do exist. For the record.
*Before we end, I want to acknowledge that I'm throwing around words like "crazy" and "unstable" pretty casually. I want to be clear that I am not making a statement about mental illness. I have dealt with mental illness personally, with my family, and and among my friends and the topic itself needs more understanding an acceptance. But understanding and glorifying are two very different things. This article has a tone of glorifying this stigma of dancers as "crazy." And I don't like the stigma that creates for the community.
So yeah. Something to chew on. Mentally I guess. In response to this, I intend to write, "Date Me: A Dancer, The Un-universalized Take on Date A Girl Who Dances." Basically it will be the most self indulgent thing to grace the internet.
May the 4th be with you. A day after the fact.
Kaitlyn
I just finished my final final of college! I'm not feeling the least bit sentimental about it right now, but I'm sure there will be some mushy blogs in the month to come.
The end of the semester means that I finally have time to deconstruct this article I stumbled upon on facebook. I've been waiting for weeks. Here's a link to it: http://www.buzzfeed.com/steffirina/date-a-girl-who-dances-op3t The article, called "Date A Girl Who Dances, is written by Steffi Carter. At first read, I was embarrassed by her portrayal of dancers, but through further examination I found it littered with red flags as it relates to feminism and dance culture.
Let's jump right in, shall we?
The Title: "Date A Girl Who Dances"
YES. All about this. I am a girl. I dance. You should date me. Absolutely on board.
Well. It's downhill from here. You absolutely should read the whole thing, but I'll give you my highlights.
"Date a girl whose eyes get glassy when assaulted by new music because she can’t help choreographing, casting, living and dying in her mind."
I can't shake the image of me at my first death metal concert. This is about the only time I have every been truly assaulted by a piece of music. And by assaulted I mean it was so suddenly loud that I almost fell over. I humiliated myself in a room full of folks that looked like they could eat me alive and I've made it a goal to not repeat the incident. I personally feel like I can handle listening to music. I mean, I can do the fucking splits. Music does not make me catatonic.
"Find a girl who dances. You’ll know that she does because she will seem to move endlessly. She will sway to the sounds of the city, fidget every few minutes, crack her knuckles and her neck, roll each wrist and cross the other leg just so she feels even. She will forget herself and where she is, the length of her skirt and the strangeness of what she’s about to do when something falls from her lovely, articulate hands to the floor. She will not bend at the knees because she does not have to, folding instead at the waist to execute the kill. That’s the dancer. When she straightens, she will laugh at herself, and her collarbone will beg you waltz with her."
Ah. The illusive, mysterious dancer creature. A rare breed. Certainly not human. Certainly not fit to navigate the city without getting lost in the bustle. Very strange. Personally, I prefer to bend my knees to pick stuff up. Unless there's a cute girl behind me and I'm having a good butt day. What I'm getting at here is that I'm interpreting most of these qualities as negative and kind of crazy. I absolutely like to roll each wrist to feel even, but for me that's a residual ocd type habit that I personally don't want to glorify. And this "finding the dancer" game has a predator/prey feel that I am NOT into when it comes to dating.
"Such proximity to a pedestrian has reawakened an awareness of her abnormality; she had nearly forgotten, again, that not everyone needs a tutu to feel alive."
Mmm. Abnormal. Flattering.
"See if she cries when she doesn’t make the cut, and learn to anticipate what she needs before and after that audition. Remember what needs massaging, and when. Understand that it is a rare treat indeed for her to really be at rest, to have a day off from running to and from rehearsals, and to take a break from being beautiful."
Oh the patronizing! I can't! Please ladies, can we stop perpetuating this stereotype that we can't stand on our own two feet? I mean yeah, I have wept my way through many a post-callback situation, we've all been there, but give yourself some credit here! Many dancers can push their bodies very far physically and the professional performing world is full of bullshit that we just have to take. You're pretty damn strong. And this bit about taking a break from being beautiful? Please. The connection to female beauty standards doesn't bear deconstructing.
"Technically, she was never trained to talk. She was trained to listen. Let her speak when she finds her voice. Do not ask her to make sense."
Pardon? Never trained to talk? This tells young female dancers that they should keep quiet. Women's voices have been historically undervalued if not completely ignored. There have been WAVES of feminists who worked their asses off to give women more of a voice and I REFUSE to forfeit the progress we have made because I also happen to express myself through dance. Some of the most articulate people I have met are dancers. Setting the bar this low should not be something to aspire to.
"It’s easy to date a girl who dances. Give her ibuprofen in bulk for her birthday"
For the record, I prefer M&Ms and chewing gum. I can handle my own medical supplies thank you.
"Look at her. Stare."
But actually, please don't. I prefer not to be objectified. Thanks.
"Because she’s unreal. The human equivalent of a black cat, with that same mesmerizing and vaguely alarming quality in the way she slinks toward you."
Jesus. I am very real. I am not a fucking ethereal fairy thing. Side note, what about my slinky walk is alarming? The last thing I want to do when I am slinkying towards someone is alarm them.
"Date a girl who dances because you deserve it. You deserve a girl who adores everything you do, every little thing about you...This is a woman who rehearses for weeks on end for maybe one minute onstage — do you think she does anything because it is easy?"
That's right. Hey dancer, you thought this article would be about how great you are? Nope. It's about the other guy. He deserves you. You deserve...it's not in this article. Now go back to your slinking. This also suggests that the dancer is the one that puts all the energy into the relationship for very little payback. Do you really want that?
"You want a girl who bites off more than she can chew because she is the most flexible, most sensitive, most ambitious, most big-hearted of the bunch."
Well. I do happen to be pretty flexible. So if you're into that.
"You deserve a girl who doesn’t break easy, a girl who’s prepared for a bit of pain for the sake of of beauty."
Please God ladies, don't idolize pain in order to be beautiful. It's not healthy. Don't glorify pain in relationships either.
"She’ll embody the ebb and flow of that tide between well-established vanity and soul-crushing insecurity"
That's right, that triple pirouette makes you vain and soul-crushingly insecure. Best of both worlds really.
The End. But Not Actually.
Ok. That's the end of the article, but I have a few more general comments.
Firstly, I get it. This is a buzzfeed article. It doesn't need to be politically correct. And if you read the article and identified with it or liked it, you do you. I'm not going to tell you how to feel about something (she says after finishing a very opinionated blog). But at the same time, when an article like this gets a lot of attention, we need to acknowledge what it says about dancers and women in our culture. By othering dancers as these mysterious, inarticulate, mentally unstable, non-human creatures we are creating a potentially dangerous standard if universalized.
Also, this only addresses girls. And I understand that the title specifically implies this, but if you refer to "dancer" as only female, you're ignoring all the men and gender non-specified folks. They do exist. For the record.
*Before we end, I want to acknowledge that I'm throwing around words like "crazy" and "unstable" pretty casually. I want to be clear that I am not making a statement about mental illness. I have dealt with mental illness personally, with my family, and and among my friends and the topic itself needs more understanding an acceptance. But understanding and glorifying are two very different things. This article has a tone of glorifying this stigma of dancers as "crazy." And I don't like the stigma that creates for the community.
So yeah. Something to chew on. Mentally I guess. In response to this, I intend to write, "Date Me: A Dancer, The Un-universalized Take on Date A Girl Who Dances." Basically it will be the most self indulgent thing to grace the internet.
May the 4th be with you. A day after the fact.
Kaitlyn
Thursday, May 1, 2014
So NOTHING is getting done tonight.
I have my Women in Lit final tomorrow and I can tell you right now that there will be absolutely no studying for it. Unless you can count scrolling through the archives of the AfterEllen tumblr. I mean, gay lady stuff is sort of like feminism right? Absolutely right.
After about an hour of that, I thought I'd throw a blog entry into the mix. This is basically me writing so I don't have to read anything. I'm realizing how much I enjoy writing as a form of expression. Now the delicate line of "how much should I really say about myself in the internet" needs to be more carefully monitored, but I think I have a good grasp on how far is too far.
So I graduate in a week and a day.
I also nearly left my cap, gown, cords, and "you pulled off a high GPA" certificate in the Aldi packing area. This adequately demonstrates the responsibility with which I enter the adult world.
Save for that anecdote, I have no actual idea where this blog is going. Hopefully you're reading this as some sort of study break so the lack of thoughtfulness and quality won't actually matter too much.
Ok. So I love lists. And after a few paragraphs that all dead ended pretty quickly, lists seem like the answer. So yeah. That's what's going to happen here.
List The First: My Plans Post Graduation.
Because everyone asks and nobody knows.
1. Continue paying rent, bills, grocery, and the occasional night out. All other monetary needs are negotiable.
2. Do art. I know I said I was taking a break for the summer. And that is still the case mostly. Because a full time job is real important right now. I do not expect to get paid for art, but I sure as hell expect to keep doing it.
3. Work full time somewhere.
List The Second: Things I'm Scared About Post Graduation.
1. Not seeing people. I tend to air on the side of hermit. I will actively combat this with every muscle in my body.
2. Not dancing every week. Girl cannot afford to spend $20 a week on dance. Girl does not like that.
2.5 Not singing every week. Girl just got her head voice together. So. Much. Work.
3. Not getting a full time job. I'm not going to elaborate.
4. Having a full time job, but not being able to make time for art.
5. Having a full time job, and artistic fulfillment, but not having time for people.
6. Not having a upass. And never actually finding my bike pump.
7. Global Warming. Real talk.
8. Homelessness. Or living in Humbolt Park. The lack of public transit. Just. ahhhhhh.
9. Contracting some incurable disease. Ok. we've crossed the line of rational fears. If left unchecked, this list could absolutely go on forever.
MMMmmm done with the lists. And should maybe actually do some of my assigned readings.
I also acknowledge the absolute garbageness of this entry. When I've slept more and find my feet firmly planted on the ground, I'll come up with some sentimental college years reflection type deal. But in the heat of it, this is all you're getting.
Sunday, April 6, 2014
A Long Overdue Blog About Eating
Remember that time I had that blog that I kept up with?
I feel like I've been putting off this blog just so I don't jinx it. But we are in the midst of a unit in my Women in Lit class and developmental psych class about eating disorders so I was feeling inspired to write this now. I set this goal for myself around Easter last year to take some time to undo some weird habits I have with food. For a full rundown of neurotic tendencies click the link labeled "health" on the sidebar and it'll take you to my previous (and apparently only) food blog. Summary: I felt like my mindset was on a treadmill and I was getting sick of the organization, but I didn't know how far I would fly if I just stopped running. How'd ya like that metaphor?
Here's the quick and dirty version of the goal list:
1. Stop weighing yourself every day.
2. Be accepting of how your body looks, and make any changes to it in a non-drastic, calm manner.
3. Stop counting calories
A) Also, weight watchers points, rough guesses, categories of foods, and strict time rules are out as well. Same thing. Just don't.
4. Eat when you're hungry, don't eat when you're not hungry.
I'm sure this applies to more than just me because I've had a lot of discussions with my friends and family about exercise and nutrition. If you've been in the same boat I hope you get something out of this. If not feel free to scoff at my moderately self-congratulatory blog. I won't take offence.
Not weighing myself was easier than I thought it would be. For the first week or so I was a little freaked out because I had no way of monitoring any changes in weight (really? wow! is that how that works?). I measured my waist size every couple days just so I felt like I had something, but after a few months of that, I stopped after I had this realization about how body composition.
I'm basically a child and if I don't get to run around every couple days, I literally lose my shit (there's more swearing in this blog, just a heads up). So in the summer I run, and since I am in a loving relationship with my bike, I ride it everywhere. I lose muscle mass and slim out. During the school year my butt is confined to a desk most of the day, but I do get to take ballet class for nearly 5 hours a week. Apparently I have the muscle composition of a male gymnast (not upset about it) and bulk up immediately once I switch from cardio to strength training. This used to really wig me out because not only did I gain weight, but my ass got bigger and my clothes fit differently. I'm a small person. I'm not complaining. But anyone who gets neurotic about food knows that this matters.
Without having a concrete number, I changed my focus from how my body looked to what my body could do. And let me tell you, it made the whole pink tights black leotard ordeal easier to swallow. I can honestly say that I don't give a shit if I have a nice cushion of fluff over my abs. Because my abs can haul my legs all over the place, and since I eat before class I have SO MUCH ENERGY. It's literally the greatest I have ever felt.
Another thing, I actually started feeling "full" and "hungry" again. I don't know if this is anyone else's experience, but when I start dieting, I so carefully plan when and what I can eat that I don't really get hungry. Mostly I made myself eat at a certain point because I knew that I wasn't going to eat for the rest of the day or the next few hours or whatever. Eventually my body gave up on trying to cue me and just went along for the ride. This works well enough, but it's so much more satisfying to just eat what you want when you want to. I mean, sometimes I have to tell myself that eating half a bag (and I'm taking the giant ones) of M&Ms at midnight is not a good idea, but that's only because I know I'll feel like death after. Not because it's like 2000 calories.
This ^ pretty much negated the need to count calories. First grade taught me what healthy foods are. And I realized that when I eat a variety of foods (as opposed to all fruit all day and then pizza and chocolate at night...oh Weight Watchers...you know what I'm saying.) I feel so much better. I'm not bogged down by the digestive hell storm that is your lower intestines after a day of eating solely coffee and apples.
Secondary realization, I actually like working out. I've always loved dance, and didn't always explicitly look at it as a means to burn calories, but occasionally that's all it was. Again, by taking the focus off my perception of my thighs in a high cut leotard, I enjoyed the expression in the movement much more. Similar thing happened to running. Running releases endorphins. It's about as close to joyous childhood frolicking as I get in my day to day. It's so much easier to motivate a run when it's not just about the number of calories you're gonna burn.
Thirdly: Again, I don't want to speak for everyone, but when I'm trying to lose weight I compare myself to literally everyone. About half the time I'm confident that I'm the fattest person in the room always and forever, and the other half of the time, I'm scrutinizing the Victoria's Secret models for rolls. And like, what is that?! I mean, I'm typing it and it's ridiculous. I was so ashamed of this because it plays directly into our culture's unattainable standards of beauty. I knew rationally that bodies aren't supposed to look like the photos in magazines, but I couldn't apply it to actual humans. Fortunately, after I let myself off the hook, my external gaze shifted too. I am apprehensive to include this paragraph because I don't want my friends thinking that I was or still am or ever will look judgmentally on their figures. Because personally, I can never tell when people change weight. Like, you have to gain or lose an entire person before I'll notice. But the above perception is real. It came up in all of the books I've been reading about body image in my women in lit class, so I'm taking that as my cue that I am not alone in this. When unhealthily rail thin is your ideal, it's easy to see how few actual bodies achieve it. And that is not a healthy way to look at yourself or other people. For obvious reasons. Yeah. Please let me know if you need clarification here. Because it's a controversial and uncomfortable point and I want to be sure I explained it clearly.
MMmmm we've already taken a turn from the light and fluffy, so might as well throw in the mis-steps here. About midway through first semester I was really stressed out and fell riiiight back into eating tons of food and then immediately trying to panic run it off, but that feels like death on wheels: End result - Very upset. Luckily I have a teacher who is very transparent about this stuff and she was incredibly helpful. Talking to her was the most honest I had ever been, and hearing that this is a legitimate issue that lots of people deal with made me feel oddly more comfortable with the whole thing. There were a couple rough weeks, but I eventually calmed down and refocused.
I'm not claiming this to be the final solution. If I've learned anything this year, it's that I personally cannot find some simple solution and be totally confident and healthy all the time. Even currently, I'm a weird eater. I still really like to measure things. On holidays that are centered around food I feel less anxious if I run in the morning. As some of it is that I like how I feel when I can eat a big meal after running, but I know that some of the motivation is coming from knowing how much I'll be eating later that day. And for now, I'm ok with that. This is progress, and I feel better thinking about an achieved goal of the process rather an a permanent victory.
So yeah. Thanks for reading my extensive self reflection. If you feel so inclined, post stuff in the comments. Or ambush me in real life, because I am pretty aware that like 99.8% of you are from facebook and I'm always down to chat about food and stuff.
Hm. Enjoy the warm weather for the foreseeable future. I mean, I wouldn't put it past Chicago to drop to a 32 degrees mid June, but as far as weather.com can alert me, we are in the clear.
Kait
I feel like I've been putting off this blog just so I don't jinx it. But we are in the midst of a unit in my Women in Lit class and developmental psych class about eating disorders so I was feeling inspired to write this now. I set this goal for myself around Easter last year to take some time to undo some weird habits I have with food. For a full rundown of neurotic tendencies click the link labeled "health" on the sidebar and it'll take you to my previous (and apparently only) food blog. Summary: I felt like my mindset was on a treadmill and I was getting sick of the organization, but I didn't know how far I would fly if I just stopped running. How'd ya like that metaphor?
Here's the quick and dirty version of the goal list:
1. Stop weighing yourself every day.
2. Be accepting of how your body looks, and make any changes to it in a non-drastic, calm manner.
3. Stop counting calories
A) Also, weight watchers points, rough guesses, categories of foods, and strict time rules are out as well. Same thing. Just don't.
4. Eat when you're hungry, don't eat when you're not hungry.
I'm sure this applies to more than just me because I've had a lot of discussions with my friends and family about exercise and nutrition. If you've been in the same boat I hope you get something out of this. If not feel free to scoff at my moderately self-congratulatory blog. I won't take offence.
Not weighing myself was easier than I thought it would be. For the first week or so I was a little freaked out because I had no way of monitoring any changes in weight (really? wow! is that how that works?). I measured my waist size every couple days just so I felt like I had something, but after a few months of that, I stopped after I had this realization about how body composition.
I'm basically a child and if I don't get to run around every couple days, I literally lose my shit (there's more swearing in this blog, just a heads up). So in the summer I run, and since I am in a loving relationship with my bike, I ride it everywhere. I lose muscle mass and slim out. During the school year my butt is confined to a desk most of the day, but I do get to take ballet class for nearly 5 hours a week. Apparently I have the muscle composition of a male gymnast (not upset about it) and bulk up immediately once I switch from cardio to strength training. This used to really wig me out because not only did I gain weight, but my ass got bigger and my clothes fit differently. I'm a small person. I'm not complaining. But anyone who gets neurotic about food knows that this matters.
Without having a concrete number, I changed my focus from how my body looked to what my body could do. And let me tell you, it made the whole pink tights black leotard ordeal easier to swallow. I can honestly say that I don't give a shit if I have a nice cushion of fluff over my abs. Because my abs can haul my legs all over the place, and since I eat before class I have SO MUCH ENERGY. It's literally the greatest I have ever felt.
Another thing, I actually started feeling "full" and "hungry" again. I don't know if this is anyone else's experience, but when I start dieting, I so carefully plan when and what I can eat that I don't really get hungry. Mostly I made myself eat at a certain point because I knew that I wasn't going to eat for the rest of the day or the next few hours or whatever. Eventually my body gave up on trying to cue me and just went along for the ride. This works well enough, but it's so much more satisfying to just eat what you want when you want to. I mean, sometimes I have to tell myself that eating half a bag (and I'm taking the giant ones) of M&Ms at midnight is not a good idea, but that's only because I know I'll feel like death after. Not because it's like 2000 calories.
This ^ pretty much negated the need to count calories. First grade taught me what healthy foods are. And I realized that when I eat a variety of foods (as opposed to all fruit all day and then pizza and chocolate at night...oh Weight Watchers...you know what I'm saying.) I feel so much better. I'm not bogged down by the digestive hell storm that is your lower intestines after a day of eating solely coffee and apples.
Secondary realization, I actually like working out. I've always loved dance, and didn't always explicitly look at it as a means to burn calories, but occasionally that's all it was. Again, by taking the focus off my perception of my thighs in a high cut leotard, I enjoyed the expression in the movement much more. Similar thing happened to running. Running releases endorphins. It's about as close to joyous childhood frolicking as I get in my day to day. It's so much easier to motivate a run when it's not just about the number of calories you're gonna burn.
Thirdly: Again, I don't want to speak for everyone, but when I'm trying to lose weight I compare myself to literally everyone. About half the time I'm confident that I'm the fattest person in the room always and forever, and the other half of the time, I'm scrutinizing the Victoria's Secret models for rolls. And like, what is that?! I mean, I'm typing it and it's ridiculous. I was so ashamed of this because it plays directly into our culture's unattainable standards of beauty. I knew rationally that bodies aren't supposed to look like the photos in magazines, but I couldn't apply it to actual humans. Fortunately, after I let myself off the hook, my external gaze shifted too. I am apprehensive to include this paragraph because I don't want my friends thinking that I was or still am or ever will look judgmentally on their figures. Because personally, I can never tell when people change weight. Like, you have to gain or lose an entire person before I'll notice. But the above perception is real. It came up in all of the books I've been reading about body image in my women in lit class, so I'm taking that as my cue that I am not alone in this. When unhealthily rail thin is your ideal, it's easy to see how few actual bodies achieve it. And that is not a healthy way to look at yourself or other people. For obvious reasons. Yeah. Please let me know if you need clarification here. Because it's a controversial and uncomfortable point and I want to be sure I explained it clearly.
MMmmm we've already taken a turn from the light and fluffy, so might as well throw in the mis-steps here. About midway through first semester I was really stressed out and fell riiiight back into eating tons of food and then immediately trying to panic run it off, but that feels like death on wheels: End result - Very upset. Luckily I have a teacher who is very transparent about this stuff and she was incredibly helpful. Talking to her was the most honest I had ever been, and hearing that this is a legitimate issue that lots of people deal with made me feel oddly more comfortable with the whole thing. There were a couple rough weeks, but I eventually calmed down and refocused.
I'm not claiming this to be the final solution. If I've learned anything this year, it's that I personally cannot find some simple solution and be totally confident and healthy all the time. Even currently, I'm a weird eater. I still really like to measure things. On holidays that are centered around food I feel less anxious if I run in the morning. As some of it is that I like how I feel when I can eat a big meal after running, but I know that some of the motivation is coming from knowing how much I'll be eating later that day. And for now, I'm ok with that. This is progress, and I feel better thinking about an achieved goal of the process rather an a permanent victory.
So yeah. Thanks for reading my extensive self reflection. If you feel so inclined, post stuff in the comments. Or ambush me in real life, because I am pretty aware that like 99.8% of you are from facebook and I'm always down to chat about food and stuff.
Hm. Enjoy the warm weather for the foreseeable future. I mean, I wouldn't put it past Chicago to drop to a 32 degrees mid June, but as far as weather.com can alert me, we are in the clear.
Kait
Wednesday, February 12, 2014
On The Eve of The English Paper
Literally this is my night.
Kait (to myself, just to be clear): Ok girl, you need to write your English paper. Like right now. Shit's due tomorrow.
Ok, lets get some tunes happening *Kate Nash pandora*
KILLING IT WOMAN KILLING IT. Literally I love with all 5 stars ALL OF THESE SONGS
*In my excitement, 1/2 an hour goes by
"Ok dude. Let's refocus."
....after i check facebook.
...and read 3 buzzfeed articles of Valentines
God I'm so single. I mean perpetually... I'm going to message my single friends to eat baked goods and get boozy together
Ok well that's done. I feel better about my life.
Except that I still haven't written my paper.
Ok. Here we go. Got a paragraph done. Boom. THIS SONG. TEGAN AND SARA ACTUALLY COME UP ON THIS STATION MY LIFE IS SO HAPPY. I want to go to karaoke
*another half hour mysteriously passes
So clearly I cannot focus with majestic lady singers in the airwaves. I just need to close out of that tab
*Cue Regina's "Sampson."
*Weeping*
ugh.
Let's post a facebook status about how I'm procrastinating.
Better yet, BLOG cause it kills more time.
And that's where I'm at.
Kait (to myself, just to be clear): Ok girl, you need to write your English paper. Like right now. Shit's due tomorrow.
Ok, lets get some tunes happening *Kate Nash pandora*
KILLING IT WOMAN KILLING IT. Literally I love with all 5 stars ALL OF THESE SONGS
*In my excitement, 1/2 an hour goes by
"Ok dude. Let's refocus."
....after i check facebook.
...and read 3 buzzfeed articles of Valentines
God I'm so single. I mean perpetually... I'm going to message my single friends to eat baked goods and get boozy together
Ok well that's done. I feel better about my life.
Except that I still haven't written my paper.
Ok. Here we go. Got a paragraph done. Boom. THIS SONG. TEGAN AND SARA ACTUALLY COME UP ON THIS STATION MY LIFE IS SO HAPPY. I want to go to karaoke
*another half hour mysteriously passes
So clearly I cannot focus with majestic lady singers in the airwaves. I just need to close out of that tab
*Cue Regina's "Sampson."
*Weeping*
ugh.
Let's post a facebook status about how I'm procrastinating.
Better yet, BLOG cause it kills more time.
And that's where I'm at.
Sunday, February 9, 2014
I am Graduating College
And I am super ready to go. Also super terrified, but mostly feeling like my formal education expiration date has passed. Honestly, it's not because I'm sick of going to class or doing homework or seeing my friends every day. I really like all of those things and I fully intend on continuing to read psychology textbooks for fun. I mean, the DSM updates every 10 years or so. I'm set for life.
Funny related story before this goes into vulnerable future thoughts. I've always had this weird drive to be totally self sufficient. (*Disclaimer: I'm definitely not advocating that I have the responsibility or organization necessary for any of this, my procrastination and naivete is proof enough for that) I remember thinking how cool it would be to be like a robot that could just dig inside myself and do everything needed to sustain life without help. In retrospect, this explains a lot about my perpetual state of introverted. Huh.
Funny story though! At some point between the formation of my earliest memories and my 4th birthday, I decided that I would take control of when I ate and drank. I was only toddling that that point, so getting my own food wasn't exactly an option. But I worked with what I had and decided that I would drink half my bottle of milk, and then hide it from my parents so I could go back and finish it on my own schedule. Being like 2.3 feet tall, my options were limited. So I chose to hide my milk behind the toilet in our first floor bathroom. This went on for several weeks before my mom caught be drinking curdled milk behind the toilet. Nothing says "your child might develop a control related anxiety disorder in their mid teens" quite like catching your 3 year old daughter drinking curdled toilet milk.
That was a lot of personal right there. And there's more coming, so brace yourself.
Since my toddlerhood, I have developed more practical ways of demonstrating some form of independence, but I can't shake the feeling that at 22 I'm still not doing enough. In some societies people are functioning as adults at 16. Plenty of high school graduates start contributing full time at 18. I attribute my sense of guilt to Loyola's Jesuit trickery. I spent 4 years here recognizing how extraordinarily privileged I am and how much I need to help the world, and now I have to sit in classes waiting to have enough time to do it! This whole "set the world on fire" business is starting to make sense. Metaphorically, I'm not plotting arson. Spending some 25 hours a week sitting in a classroom is making me feel like I'm just treading water. Not to mention the 4ish hours every night I'm doing homework. I'm so sick of giving employers my useless availability. I'm supporting myself on a work study job (one that I actually really love and has given me skills and connections that will help me so much after college), but I feel like I owe society so much more than I'm actually putting into it. I am incredibly grateful for the education I've been lucky enough to receive, but when I look at campaigns like Girl Rising and Teach For America I feel guilty about being 22 and still spending the majority of my time sitting in a classroom.
Then there's theatre. I've pretty much signed my soul to Dionysus, with no regrets. I believe that theatre and the arts have a communal nature that, makes us think about other people's perspectives, is an incredibly cathartic emotional outlet, and can really make a positive change in the world. Problem being, "Art" rarely reaches the people who need it most. On a broad strokes level, art only reaches those who are wealthy enough to afford it and members of the community itself. Not that I don't love a good dose of "for artists by artists" industry nights, nor do I discredit their importance to the artistic community as a whole, but it scares me that I'm spending so much money on an education to go into a field that primarily entertains upper or upper middle class affluent cultural white folks. The lack of diversity that I observe among audience members of some really great theatre leaves a bad taste in my mouth. Save for the price of tickets, so much of it ties back to arts education. Every time my district ran out of money, they cut arts funding. Not bashing sports or other extra curriculars, but can we as a society please stop taking the arts away from people who really need them? The arts have made such a difference in my life and I want to expose everyone to that same positive experience.
That was an unexpected passionate little bunny trail. And I think that's pretty much the end of what I want to say about this.
Take home point: I probably don't have my shit together enough to actually be an adult but I'm past ready to try.
Thoughts? I can't be the only senior chomping at the bit to be done right?
I'm digging this pattern of "uncomfortably real blog" followed by "funny asshole stories from my life." So if this wasn't your cup of tea, the next one might be. Hopefully you at least enjoyed the self deprecating toilet milk story. Because in a narcissistic way, I think its hysterical.
Wooooof, as you were. Personally, I am going to edit and English paper and continue reading (literally) my entire developmental psychology book.
Kaitlyn
Funny related story before this goes into vulnerable future thoughts. I've always had this weird drive to be totally self sufficient. (*Disclaimer: I'm definitely not advocating that I have the responsibility or organization necessary for any of this, my procrastination and naivete is proof enough for that) I remember thinking how cool it would be to be like a robot that could just dig inside myself and do everything needed to sustain life without help. In retrospect, this explains a lot about my perpetual state of introverted. Huh.
Funny story though! At some point between the formation of my earliest memories and my 4th birthday, I decided that I would take control of when I ate and drank. I was only toddling that that point, so getting my own food wasn't exactly an option. But I worked with what I had and decided that I would drink half my bottle of milk, and then hide it from my parents so I could go back and finish it on my own schedule. Being like 2.3 feet tall, my options were limited. So I chose to hide my milk behind the toilet in our first floor bathroom. This went on for several weeks before my mom caught be drinking curdled milk behind the toilet. Nothing says "your child might develop a control related anxiety disorder in their mid teens" quite like catching your 3 year old daughter drinking curdled toilet milk.
That was a lot of personal right there. And there's more coming, so brace yourself.
Since my toddlerhood, I have developed more practical ways of demonstrating some form of independence, but I can't shake the feeling that at 22 I'm still not doing enough. In some societies people are functioning as adults at 16. Plenty of high school graduates start contributing full time at 18. I attribute my sense of guilt to Loyola's Jesuit trickery. I spent 4 years here recognizing how extraordinarily privileged I am and how much I need to help the world, and now I have to sit in classes waiting to have enough time to do it! This whole "set the world on fire" business is starting to make sense. Metaphorically, I'm not plotting arson. Spending some 25 hours a week sitting in a classroom is making me feel like I'm just treading water. Not to mention the 4ish hours every night I'm doing homework. I'm so sick of giving employers my useless availability. I'm supporting myself on a work study job (one that I actually really love and has given me skills and connections that will help me so much after college), but I feel like I owe society so much more than I'm actually putting into it. I am incredibly grateful for the education I've been lucky enough to receive, but when I look at campaigns like Girl Rising and Teach For America I feel guilty about being 22 and still spending the majority of my time sitting in a classroom.
Then there's theatre. I've pretty much signed my soul to Dionysus, with no regrets. I believe that theatre and the arts have a communal nature that, makes us think about other people's perspectives, is an incredibly cathartic emotional outlet, and can really make a positive change in the world. Problem being, "Art" rarely reaches the people who need it most. On a broad strokes level, art only reaches those who are wealthy enough to afford it and members of the community itself. Not that I don't love a good dose of "for artists by artists" industry nights, nor do I discredit their importance to the artistic community as a whole, but it scares me that I'm spending so much money on an education to go into a field that primarily entertains upper or upper middle class affluent cultural white folks. The lack of diversity that I observe among audience members of some really great theatre leaves a bad taste in my mouth. Save for the price of tickets, so much of it ties back to arts education. Every time my district ran out of money, they cut arts funding. Not bashing sports or other extra curriculars, but can we as a society please stop taking the arts away from people who really need them? The arts have made such a difference in my life and I want to expose everyone to that same positive experience.
That was an unexpected passionate little bunny trail. And I think that's pretty much the end of what I want to say about this.
Take home point: I probably don't have my shit together enough to actually be an adult but I'm past ready to try.
Thoughts? I can't be the only senior chomping at the bit to be done right?
I'm digging this pattern of "uncomfortably real blog" followed by "funny asshole stories from my life." So if this wasn't your cup of tea, the next one might be. Hopefully you at least enjoyed the self deprecating toilet milk story. Because in a narcissistic way, I think its hysterical.
Wooooof, as you were. Personally, I am going to edit and English paper and continue reading (literally) my entire developmental psychology book.
Kaitlyn
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