Celebrating my feminista

I got asked tonight if I'm a feminist.


Best question ever. :D


So just in case anyone missed the memo: Yes, I am a feminist.

• I believe absolutely in the equal rights of men and women.
• I believe the genitalia and/or DNA any person possesses should neither entitle nor disenfranchise.
• I believe in respecting those who are different and protecting and uplifting those who are downtrodden.
• I do not hate men nor do I want to be exactly like one; I glory in my personal female identity.
• I work toward the day when femaleness and maleness are regarded with identical amounts of respect because of humanness.

Additionally...

• I believe absolutely in the right of anyone to be different.
• I believe that biological sex and expressed gender are spectra; everyone is a mix of male and female traits, genes, and tissues.
• I believe that what diminishes one, diminishes all.  What uplifts one, uplifts all.

And you should check out this link: Snopes--Red Hot Mamas (The truth about "bra-burning" feminists.)

Believing "Inactivity"

I've gone briefly "inactive" twice in my life.  Both periods lasted for about six to eight weeks.  That's hardly anything to some people and it really didn't feel very long at all to me, but both times it was enough to get me on the radar.  I guess that speaks to people caring about me.  How many people drop off the radar and no one says a peep?  I'm deeply gratified  and glad that people care about and want me.  I know not everyone feels so blessed when their attendance wanes or stops altogether.

The past three months have been difficult.  I've been to my singles ward all of three times since Mom died, including today.  I only stayed for Sacrament meeting today because I had an engagement party to attend for an old friend who asked me to be her bridesmaid.  I went to my sister's Ward last week, halfway across the state, to surprise her and her husband when they gave talks.  I've been sort of attending church all along, though my strictitude in doing so has diminished considerably.

That doesn't mean I don't believe, though.  I do.

I believe very strongly, even when I'm railing against patriarchy.  I believe very strongly, even when I see malls built on the interest from investments made in part with my tithing money.*  I believe very strongly, even when I feel like I can't get up in testimony meeting and proclaim my love for my Heavenly Mother and talk about how someday I believe women will see their power and authority recognized once again.  I believe very strongly, even when I contemplate whether the institutional Church has lost its way, if Correlation is a form of apostasy and spiritual dictatorship, and if I really want to give my silent stamp of approval on "all of that" by continuing to show up.  I believe very strongly, even when I feel disinclined toward being married in the temple, and contemplate how that meshes with elements of my Patriarchal Blessing.  (Sealed? Yes.  Married?  That's a whole other post.)

For any and all of my weird, fringe-y diversions from what's scripted as "the Mormon norm", I still believe.  It's not just my religion, it's my personal cosmology to believe that there's more than just this life, that there's something beyond death, and that an afterlife without progression is... pointless.  It's my personal ethics and morality to "believe in being honest, true, chaste, benevolent, and in doing good to all" people.  I see what we generally call "Mormonism" as something bigger than and encompassing Mormonism, Islam, Christianity, Judaism, Buddhism, Paganism, preJudaism... -ism -ism -ism... preMosiac law... prePatriarchy, back to and beyond any literal or figurative Adam and Eve.  Mormonism is just a title that got slapped on it in modern times, under modern circumstances by people that hate(d) those that believe in it.  What's a better term for it?  Saintism?  Elohimity?  What can one call this tapestry that stretches back through unknown generations of exalted mortals, and spreads forward through countless more where--upon the great glowing pattern--the thread of Divine Grace spells "Love One Another"?


 I don't know.  I don't know what it is, but it is what I believe.  That's what I hope I'll always believe, whether I sit in nature or a pew.



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*At least that's the source of City Creek's finances that I've heard.  I could be wrong, and I welcome correction if I am.  I do want to have my facts straight.

Breakdown

The past few weeks have kind of been hell for me.  I thought they were going to be fantastic and exciting.  Instead, they peaked last night with a normally non-violent person clobbering the ever-loving crap out of her car visor and shattering the mirror she forgot existed.

I moved my business this week from the location I had been in for nearly three years.  The new place is a huge blessing and I'm grateful, but this has stirred up a serious shitpile in my head and in my heart.  From mis/lack-of-communication with my new business partner to stupid people at my part-time other job to change.... change, change, everywhere.  Tattoos.  Business moving and adjusting.  I could use a new phone and I'm not eligible for another 5 months.  Becoming a fill-in bridesmaid. 


I have never done massage for another person one day in the past eight years... now I'm an independent contractor in a  place I don't own, and that's weird.


And I miss Mom.  I miss Mom so badly it burns.  I had a slow meltdown although yesterday during work.  Luckily it was at my part-time job and not during massage.  The past few weeks, I've been drifting in this weird space of dormant spirituality, spiritual numbness.  I didn't talk to Mom.  I barely acknowledged Father and Mother outside of "Hi" and "Thank you."  I felt virtually nothing coming back.  All I have felt was a growing ambivalence about all things perky-happy-Mormon-y.  Things I used to enjoy a couple years ago.  Now there's just ambivalence and distance and anger and sorrow and pain.  I even started to question my sexuality as I found myself yearning for female closeness and feeling disgruntled and disenfranchised by maleness in general.  I even noticed that my recent blog posts have been overwhelmingly pissy.  Then yesterday, a simple question that shouldn't have sent me reeling like a drunkard tipped me into a downward spiral and left me barely getting through my work day without wanting to rip a customer's head off.  I wasn't really very safe to be behind the wheel getting home, either... I probably should not have been driving.  Only by the grade of God did I get home in one piece without hurting anyone else.


It's kinda good in a way, though.  I've been wondering why I wasn't mourning.  Why wasn't I having to excuse my behavior because I missed my Mom?  I'm a person with depressive tendencies, but I was generally happy as a clam and chugging toward a new phase of life.  I guess I was just waiting for a catalyst to tip me over.  It'll be interesting to see where things go from here... I might even blog about some happier things eventually.  Hopefully we can all hang in there together.


Oh yeah.  Mother Fast is this weekend.  Go forth and fast and pray for Mother.  I feel like I'll actually want to this month, finally.

Philosophies of Men

"Beware the philosophies of men for Satan has inspired many of them." -paraphrased line from my Patriarchal Blessing

"There will be many willing to preach to you the philosophies of men... mingled with scripture." -Lucifer, temple video*

"She should know better than to dress like that.  She was practically asking for it." -way, way too many people.

"I wore a tank top and shorts today and not a single man raped me. I'm so disappointed!  I was totally asking for it." - No. Woman. Ever.

Pig sh*t: ambrosia for those willing to swallow the philosophies of men without any mingling at all. (Rant here)

When I was working toward admitting my feminism, I went through a long period of worrying that the line from my Blessing referenced above was talking about it and other equality-promoting philosophies.  I obviously got over that.  Today, as I was running through some of the recent things I've read about modesty and rape, it came to me that rape culture--especially in a religious context--is very literally the philosophies of men (males, not humanity), often mingled/justified with scripture.

I think that pretty much speaks for itself.  Rape culture is a philosophy of men mingled with scripture.  Look for messengers from your Heavenly Parents instead.

Disgruntled thoughts upon getting dressed in the morning

I am going to complain about my garments.  Stand back, dear readers, there could be lightning involved.

I'm not the only person who has ever said, "I'm not sure they ever actually fit these to a human being when they design the pattern."  In fact, I'm pretty sure someone said it on Daughters of Mormonism.  It is a widespread gripe among those who have been through the temple that garments are ill-fitting and unattractive to the point of being borderline--or straight up--impractical for everyday wear.  Nevertheless we wear them because we have covenanted to do so and we are held accountable for that covenant in order to return to the temple.  Any damage to self-esteem or spousal arousal be damned.

If there was a secular company that said, "You can only purchase your underwear from us.  You may no longer make them yourselves--even from our patterns--or alter the design, even if it makes you itch.  You have to build your entire wardrobe in order to accommodate our line, no matter how poorly it actually fits your body, and no you may not try things on before purchase to see whether you like it or not," it would go out of business.  (Never mind that people have been defecting from activity/membership in the Church in droves over the past several years................)

When Heather started the Green Garment Campaign, one of the complaints people made about it on the event page was that if the Church were to invest in more sustainable fabrics, it would drive the price of garments up from a whopping $2.20-5.10 per piece, which would put a strain on the poor and/or lead to classism between those who could or could not afford certain fabrics.

So, yes, changing styles and improving the available fabrics would cost money.  I totally understand that.  However.

The Church just spent approximately $2 Billion building the City Creek Center mall, and an additional $3 billion on downtown revitalization for Salt Lake.  (That's a whole other rant.)  I think it can safely divert some of its vast holdings toward bolstering up Beehive Clothing in the name of subsidizing that extra cost.  Seriously.  I'm not an economist or anything, so I'll admit that I could be wrong, but it seems like it should be feasible.  If Heather's guesstimate of two million active garment-wearers is anywhere close to accurate, the subsidies would have to swallow $1000 per wearer to approach what was spent on the mall.

Most people I know only buy about 7-10 days worth of tops and bottoms every year or two.  (I have to hand it to Beehive: garments do tend to be sturdy and long lasting.)  That's maybe $100 per year at current prices, tops.  With better designs and sustainable fabrics, let's be super generous and say that rises to $200 per year.  (I do not think that's a realistic estimate at all, by the way.)  Yes, that would be a problem for the poor and that would be wrong, but why can't the Church subsidize that for those who cannot pay?  It wouldn't be everyone.  It wouldn't be every year.

I'm ready to step down from my soapbox, I just got rather annoyed as I got dressed this morning because the underwear I'm obligated to wear throughout my life does not fit me well, and I have no other options without going and breaking a bunch of rules that I'm not sure how anyone would enforce them, anyway.  I dislike the corporatism of it and I think the Church would do well to invest in revamping the garments so they're more practical, so the form of them doesn't suck, and so this outward expression reflects both our inner commitment and and the beauty thereof.

Line art

As mentioned a couple posts ago, I am getting a tattoo.  I got the line art only done today due to unforeseen time and money constraints.  Let me tell you, I'm glad I stopped when I did, because I just had to pick a ridiculously intense spot: the sternum.  Ouch.

Stings like a...
(Not me.)

Why the sternum?  A number of reasons.

1. I can see it.  My motif is of a poppy (for California), an apple blossom (for my hometown) and forget-me-nots (for my mother, my Mother, and probably President Uchtdorf.  [Love that man... in a totally appropriate, respectful, and non-creepy-fangirl way.]  Or for myself.  I have to remember to forget-Me-not, too.)  I chose these flowers as symbols of where I came from and what my roots are.
2. It's pretty much hidden from public view.  Very few of my tops are a threat to its visibility.  It ride just above my bra neckline and just below my garments.  Hopefully this will keep it from being seen by anyone for long enough to be able to say (once it's spotted) "oh, I've had that for a long while."
3. It's bony enough that when my weight fluctuates, my skin (HOPEFULLY) won't distort too badly

So, why did I get a tattoo?  Because I did.  I've never been supremely interested in them; I thought the idea was kind of interesting before President Hinckley advised against it back in the mid/late-1990s, but that was enough to make me ignore the option for about 15 years.  I've been thinking about it for approximately a year now, but I wasn't drawn to the idea very strongly.  I was more interested in additional ear piercings because they seemed like less commitment.  When Mom died, and I started thinking about moving on from my hometown, I found myself wanting something bigger, a more detailed reminder of where I'm from as I get where I'm going.

So now I have the beginnings of that reminder.  It's rather surreal after so many years of being told that it was bad and wrong or unwise.  I didn't do it to be a rebel, but it is a rebellious act.  It's very strange, but I'm really kind of in love with it.

On that note, good night!

Optional reading: My experience of the tattooing itself.

One reason why patriarchy is evil

Trigger warning: Rape.
"...by their fruits ye shall know them."  From the mouth of the Son of God himself.

I was reading my book-with-the-socially-unacceptable-title a few days back.  The author spends a particular amount of time on the subject of rape--her mother's story that instigated the book, why it happens, the repercussions in women's lives, etc--and I started thinking about the why, thus to come to this conclusion:  Rape is a a fruit of patriarchy, malevolent and benevolent both.  Malevolent patriarchy simply doesn't give a crap; it loves rape as a tool of war and it doesn't care when else it happens, because hey... it's just a woman.  (Or a homosexual.  Or a child.  Or an old person.  Or a prisoner.  For my purposes, I will focus on male-female rape.)

Benevolent patriarchy is hardly better; it still makes women inferior to men, no matter that we're good and sweet and worthy to be lifted up on a pedestal... but we are not to be leaders or choosers or counselors or acters.  Not really.  Also, benevolent patriarchy doesn't often say that rape is a bad thing to do; in my experience, it's spoken almost universally as something to be prevented by potential victims, not an act to be responsibly avoided by potential perpetrators.

"Women are the guardians of virtue."
"You should know better than to walk alone at night."
"Any woman that's dressed like that is pretty much asking for it."  (My own father said these words to my face.)
"Men can't help themselves when they see the female form.  They're more visual than women."
"Dear girls,
Dressing immodestly is like rolling in the mud.  You'll get attention, but mostly from pigs.
Sincerely,
Real Men"

Thank you, Real Men, for admitting that you are so shallow that you no longer care about the worth of a woman's soul or honor the validity of her thoughts, feelings, opinions, or life experiences if she's wearing a tank top instead of a t-shirt, and for abandoning all those immodest trollops to the attentions of pigs and/or rapists.  Your honesty and moral integrity is refreshing.  You are an inspiration to us all, Real Men!

It is easier for patriarchy to focus on on the outward issues of getting women not to dress in a way that "can get them raped", victim blaming if they do get raped, and absolving the perpetrators of rape (No, really, men are practically incapable of controling their thoughts if there's a boob in the vicinity!) than for it to turn the lens inward and focus on rooting out its own inner corruption.  Rape is a fruit of patriarchy.

Rape--the utter desecration and defilement of the most sacred of human rights: bodily and sexual autonomy, choice, respect, and safety--is a fruit of a system that inherently diminishes the Feminine simply for the lack of a penis.

And that, my friends, is just one horrible and excellent reason why patriarchy is evil.

P.S.:  I am very aware that there are scads of men out there who--while perhaps otherwise patriarchal--would never in a million years commit, condone, tolerate, or excuse rape, a fact for which I am grateful.   I give a virtual high-five to any man who feels the seething rage that rape deserves.  In this post I am not addressing the facts of individual men, but rather the culture of patriarchy--the reign of men/fathers--as a whole, and its systemic tolerance of rape and rape culture.