Desperation V. Sexuality (aka: I guess if the attention is worth it to you...)

Miley Cyrus stepped onto the stage at the MTV Video Music Awards last night to perform and, not unexpectedly, surprised the audience by twerking in a flesh colored swimsuit (after shedding a teddy bear swimsuit like outfit) and grinding on a foam finger in addition to Robin Thicke.  If you can't tell from the tone of my words how utterly shocked I am by the fact that SOMEONE did something CONTROVERSIAL at the VMA's, this .gif should suffice to express my alarm.

Yup.  Though curious as to what happened since I wasn't watching the show, I wasn't exactly surprised by it.  I will admit, though, that I was a little disturbed.  In fact, even though at first I only saw approximately thirty seconds of her set, my brain immediately shouted "INAPPROPRIATE!!"

Then I pulled back for a second, remembering it wasn't long ago many were crying out in shock over Rihanna posting sexually explicit pictures of herself on her Instagram (or some other photo platform) feed, and Katy Perry dancing around on a cotton candy background while wearing daisy dukes.  While neither of those things were that interesting to me (I didn't even care enough to look up Rihanna's pictures, and had to have someone show me the Katy Perry video) and my brain had a similar response.  But my thought then was "All right... inappropriate, yes.  But you're a twenty-something healthy, beautiful girl.  If you want to flaunt it, and be sexual, go for it.  Have at and enjoy."

The images of Rihanna and many other a starlet (did I just use that term?  Dear Lord, where is my thesaurus!?!) who engages in anything sexual will prompt some sort of a reaction.  Some will cry inappropriateness, and others will cry out against "slut shaming."

Slut shaming, to me, is ridiculous.  It's sad that women are called "prude" if they appear pious, and "slutty" if they express enjoyment over anything.  There is no middle ground.  And slut shaming doesn't only happen to famous or not-so-famous women who are seen expressing their sexuality.  It happens to victims of sexual violence or assault - because it was her fault for drinking too much, or wearing that skirt.  It happens to teenagers who make the mistake of sending the then boyfriend a picture of herself in a provocative pose, only to have it spread to the rest of the school - because she should know better than to ever trust ANYONE not to share something private.  It happens to women in general... every day.

Yes, women in general, and yes, every day.  Being pregnant, and having been pregnant before, I honestly cannot tell you how many times I've had someone joke to me about it.  "Sometimes when I see a pregnant woman, I sheepishly giggle to myself because I know that she put out!"  "You're pregnant!  You definitely had sex then!"

Why, yes... I did engage in sexual activity with a partner, I might have even initiated it... or found it enjoyable!  Is this not something women in relationships do?    Is this also not something that men do?  Or, unlike with men,  is it because the evidence is blatantly obvious under my shirt you feel the need to comment or giggle inside your head?  And while you giggle at me, are you going to high five the father for "getting some?"

Is this your first thought?  Because, if so, I think you need help.  The first thought - or first thousand thoughts - when seeing a pregnant woman should be "YAY" or "Congratulations!" or "I hope it's healthy." If those aren't your first thoughts, I'm inclined to wonder if you're actually human, or just a silly person masquerading as a human.

I could go on and write ten thousand posts about why it's okay for women (pregnant or otherwise) to enjoy sex in a safe, healthy relationship (no matter if it's one night or ten years).  I could write numerous articles about the double standard between men and women when it comes to sexual behaviour.  I could write millions of words about the need to teach boys to respect and value women and ect. ect. ect...

But, at this current time, I'm trying to analyze my personal reaction to my fear that I'm slut shaming Miley Cyrus.  And, maybe, commenting lightly on the state of society, rather than engaging in a rational, analytical discussion.  So... back to the VMA's.

After I shook my head and laughed over the thirty second clip, I backed up and said to myself "Why is it okay, in your mind, for someone else to post explicit pictures of themselves or express their sexuality on stage, but it's not okay for Miss Miley?"

Well... I didn't exactly see a lot of sexuality in that performance.  Not saying I didn't see images or a performance that was trying desperately to be sexual, but I didn't see healthy sexuality being expressed.

Trying desperately to be sexual...  That's what I saw.  I saw a girl who, even after a number of already controversial acts, is still desperate for attention.  Each of these acts evolve, getting trashier and trashier, but they don't shock me.  I just shake my head and wonder why.

I saw a girl impetuously trying to cause controversy.  I saw a girl who I didn't think danced very well, or didn't have a very good choreographer.  I saw WAY more tongue than should ever be allowed.  I saw a girl in dire need of someone in her life to say "Look, if you want to have a grown-up sexual image, we can work toward that.  Lets lose the teddy bear references because they're creepy."  I saw a smiling and singing, but the words should have been "Pay attention to me!  I'm a white girl and I'm not supposed to twerk but I do it anyway!  LOOK! LOOK OVER HERE!!!"

also... the song lyrics... yes, they're trying to be sexual, but why is that the focus and more controversial than the blatant drug reference?


In the end, I saw a girl with no self respect... which is sad.

I realize many think the same thing about Rihanna, Taylor Swift, Katy Perry, ect... others who came before Miley and have done similar things.  Taylor, not so much sexually, but she gets ripped on all the time for writing songs about her relationships (and how many she has.  Because a twenty-something-year-old shouldn't date at all, let alone numerous boys...)

If she can't write about her life, what's she supposed to write about?  The sun?  The trees?  All artists, musical or other, draw on life experiences to create their work.  You can't tell me "Somebody That I Used to Know" isn't written about SOMEBODY Gotye used to know.  It's the job of an artist to express what we all feel at times, but don't have the ability to say/envision/paint/write.  That's why we have artists and creativity.

Taylor's not ashamed her songs are about people she's dated.  And she shouldn't be; she's not the first person to do it, she certainly won't be the last.

Rihanna laughed off her "slut" label.  Why?  She knows who she is, she knows what she's like... and she's not doing whatever she's doing to impress anyone.  She's doing it for her.

But Miley... to me, I don't think that performance last night was for you... that was for us.  Because I wouldn't think you'd grind on teddy bears or play with a foam finger if you weren't trying to get our attention and shock us.  But if it was for you... and the attention and backlash you're getting is what you wanted... then I guess, good job?

Miley.. I think... how I actually feel... I'm not trying slut shaming you for your performance. I'm not being critical, or disturbed, by your set based on it's sexual content.  I'm being critical because I feel, whatever artistry you were trying to convey, was very forced.  Because it seemed so forced and desperate, it made me uncomfortable.  I also think, and I could be wrong, it's coming from a young girl who has no clue what is sexual to her, and what is not.

It almost reminded me of the scene in the 40-Year-Old Virgin where Steve Carrell's character is surrounded by his co-workers who are talking nonchalantly about their sexual escapades and experiences... and he's trying desperately to keep up and hide his secret.

So Miley, while the rest of the internet is screaming "slut," "whore," or various other insults at you while collectively shaking their heads, maybe you can take note of the little voice over here that is not reacting how you wished.  I think you should spend some time cuddling with Liam (or, if you don't want to, I volunteer...) finding out what makes you feel good, finding your value, and realizing that if showing the world how sexually free you are is really something you want to do, perhaps take a step away from the ideas of how a post-Disney starlet is supposed to act, and find out how Miley wants to act.

And, please... for the sake of all... fire your production manager/choreographer/stylist/ or anyone who encouraged you in organizing that performance last night.  Because... well... just do.  You can do better, you really can.

Why It Matters (Rally To Improve Birth)

It's 12:27, and I should be in bed.  I should be learning choreography for classes tomorrow.  I should be resting to nourish my tired body.  I should edit this before I post it, but I won't... so check your grammar, spelling, punctuation judgements at the door because I don't care about that right now.   My mind is full, too full to edit.  My mind is full of things I can't, or shouldn't, do.

I can't stop thinking about all the wonderful births that women I know have had.  I also can't stop thinking about the number of unexpected births, or the number of traumatic births.  I can't stop thinking about the doctors who treat pregnancy like a medical condition, and birth like a cure instead of a part of life.

I'm planning on attending the Labor Day Rally to Improve Birth here in Des Moines, IA.  Originally, I planned on going by myself because I wanted to meet people and share stories and help make a difference in how humans are brought into the world.  I wanted to see what others had to say about the topic.  I wanted to see if there really was anything I could do.

Then, it changed.  I wanted to invite people.  So I got on my Facebook page for the event and clicked the glorious little "invite friends" button.  A brand new window popped up, filled with the faces of friends I am close with, friends I adore from a far, and friends I haven't spoken with in years.  Then the doubt started.

Oh, I shouldn't invite her/him... they don't live in Des Moines.  I shouldn't invite them because... they don't have kids.  I shouldn't invite her because her birth was normal as far as I know.  I shouldn't invite her because she didn't have any complications.  I shouldn't invite him/her/them because they don't understand why it matters.

Then I stopped myself, and I got really irritated at my thoughts and my assumptions... along with the assumptions of probably 75% of the people I know.

If you're reading this, odds are you were born.  If you were born, someone birthed you from their womb.  Maybe it was the easiest labor and delivery in the world, maybe it was text book.  Maybe things didn't go as planned.  Maybe things were horrifying and unbeknownst to you, the woman who birthed you was traumatized.  Maybe she never talks about it because no one will understand why it matters.  Maybe the perfect birth was perfect because of a doctor, or a midwife, or a doula, but SHE doesn't talk about it because no one will understand why it matters... it was perfect, why are you discussing it?

Because it matters.

It matters because we as women spend so much time fighting for our choices.  Our right to work in all fields of employment, our right to serve in the military, our right to marry who we love, our right to have children, our right to NOT have children... we fight for our rights to walk the street in whatever type of clothing and not be harassed, we fight for the victims of violence, we fight to nurse in public, we fight to bottle feed, we fight to home school, we fight for better public education.  We fight the glass ceiling that is pressed on us, we fight not only for us, we fight for our husbands/partners/children/friends/families as well... we fight for our right to party.

Women are fighters by nature.  We fight to stay alive, we fight for our beliefs, we fight for each other.

Why shouldn't we all fight for the right to birth the way we want?

Improving birth matters for every single female child in the world.  Someday, she may want to have a child, and she'll go through birth... it matters for her.

Birth matters for the fathers of the babies as well.  It's not just a woman who goes through labor, her partner is there with her... scared and worried about two people he or she loves more than anything in the world.  Birth matters for our partners.

Birth matters for every single woman who wants to be induced - because it's her choice.

Birth matters for every single woman who doesn't want to be induced... because again, it's her choice.

Birth matters for every planned or unplanned Cesarean section - because we have the right to bond as soon as possible with our new arrivals, and we have a right to know the risks and rewards of any surgery.

Birth matters for every woman who wants a VBAC - because we shouldn't be scared into surgery again, or told our bodies won't work right before we're even given the opportunity to try.

Birth matters for every woman who DOESN'T want a VBAC - because she still has a choice.

Birth matters for every woman with a perfect birth - because this should be something that is not uncommon, it should be a precedent.

Birth matters for every woman traumatized during the experience - because she should be able to talk about it so she can heal, and improve things for the next time around.

Birth matters for every person who chooses to remain childless - because even if they aren't your kids, someday you will be involved with a person who has been born, and it matters how they were brought into this world just as much as how they were raised.

Finally, birth matters because we were all born.

There are rallies happening across the country on Labor Day (how appropriate, yes?).  You can attend.  You can show up and show your support for mothers, care providers, doulas, doctors, midwives, fathers, daughters, grandmothers, sisters... you can show up to support humanity pretty much anywhere.  You don't have to say anything.  You don't have to have children.  You don't even have to be female... you just have to show your support so we can change the view of birth from medical condition to normal and miraculous part of life.

Why should you show up?

Because you were born, and it mattered.  

What Do You See?

When do we make decisions on how we see another person?  Do we make decisions on first sight?  Or do we not even wait that long... maybe we never see them and judge them based on tone of voice, or the language they use.  Do we wait a bit and see how they talk, or if they smile?  Do we wait even longer and let them explain some opinions to us?

In the process of determining "Yes, I'll allow this person into my life a lot," or "No, not so much," or even "Only on a limited basis will I like this person," perhaps we wait a while.  Or maybe we've had someone in our life for so long when suddenly, a choice they make changes how we feel about them entirely.  Judgements can change whether they're made upon a first meeting, or after years of knowing someone; they can change.  Another truth is that no matter how much we try not to, we always judge people.

We scrutinize and analyze their behavior and our interactions.  We judge them to determine how much contact we want with them; we analyze them to find out if their intentions are pure or malevolent.  We judge to determine if we want to be more like this person, or perhaps the person wants to be more like us.  That last feeling can be flattering or frightening depending on your personality, and that feeling can affect your judgement as well.  But whatever the case... we all judge.  It's like sneezing, breathing, and using the restroom - we all do it.

When I was nineteen, the anxiety and depression I'd been nursing since my teenage years blossomed into a full blown disorder.  I remember a lot of this period, some of it good, some of it traumatic, but one thing that has always stuck in my mind was some advice a person gave me at a Christian conference.

I had confessed my fear that everyone would consider my disorder a mark against me.  They would see me as less of a Christian because I swore when I was upset, or because I questioned God and struggled with my faith.  Maybe someone would even go so far as to isolate me completely because how could I be a Christian, and believe in an all-loving God, if I was depressed?  (Note, this actually happened in a few cases, which did not help things.)

The person I was talking to shook her head, gently assuring me that no one in the room would ever think such things; though, she admitted could not promise me the world (Christian or not) would resist in judging me for anything.  It was at this point she sighed deeply and said, "I wish everyone would just take a few minutes, and when meeting someone for the first time, or second time, or one-hundredth time... try to see them how God sees them.  If we could look at everyone the way God sees us, we would all be a lot more forgiving."

At the time, this didn't sink into my psyche; I wasn't in a place to process it completely.  But as I've aged - as I've become married, borne children, made friends, lost friends and lived life - I've thought about it often, and it's stuck with me.  It's often popped out at wonderful times, and at very inopportune times (ex: when someone I have issues with is doing something particularly frustrating, or exhibiting a behavior I think is abhorrent... it pops up then too.)

This might bring up the question to many about how I think God sees us.  I have friends who are non-believers who would simply be interested in my thoughts, and I have friends who would roll their eyes at my sentimentality and remind me that there is a lot of evil in the world... how does God see that?

How do you see it when someone you love makes a bad decision?  How do you see it when your child does something that you think is appalling, or even something you simply disapprove of?  You feel sad, disappointed... maybe even angry.  Do you stop loving them?  No.  Do you stop wanting them to make better choices?  No.  Do you stop caring for them?  No.

I'm not saying I look at everyone, in every situation, with rose-colored glasses. But when I feel that urge inside me to judge someones choices, either out of anger or frustration, I try to take a step back and see them how God would see them.  It doesn't always make everything okay, but it at least slows me down a bit in making judgements and forming opinions.

As I've applied this, it's changed my perspective on so many things and helped me connect to so many people.  Instead of seeing the aggressive person in the front row of my class, I see someone outgoing who just wants to have fun.  Instead of seeing a narcissist, I see the someone with confidence who could teach us all to love ourselves more.  Instead of seeing the snob who must hate me, I see the introvert who uses my yoga class as a way to wind herself down.  I see the only guy who likes to dance and loves it because he's so much healthier now.  I see the extrovert who loves everyone and just wants them to love themselves.  I see advocates and activists instead of opinions and blow-hards.  Overall, I see the majority of people just want to live their life the best they can.

Trying to see people through the eyes of God, or even the eyes of someone that loves them, slows you down in forming opinions, and can favorably color your interactions with everyone... perhaps enabling you to make new friends, connections, or just gain an appreciation for people from different walks of life.

If you're like me, you also realize that not only are you judging others, or slowing down in that... but others are judging you as well.  I still worry about what people will label me as when they first meet me.  Does my passion and curiosity come off as creepy and stalker-ish?  Do people I want to be friends with see my interest as awkward?  Do they see my anxiety about rejection and roll their eyes, or assume I'm crazy?  Do they see my intelligence as pretentious?   Do they see the good things about me?  How much I love kids, and people, and animals and life?  Or do they only see the awkward words and lame attempts at friendship, life or anything I try to do?

Instead of letting that worry consume me, keeping me inside and isolated from the world, I slow down and take a deep breath.  I pause for a moment, and try to see myself how God sees me, or how my children see me.  I step back and try to see myself in rose-colored glasses; the flaws are still there, but they're muted enough that I can still see how unique and strangely beautiful the picture is.  I can see the good parts of the painting; the colors and all the little imperfections that hold it together.  I remember that I can't be promised everyone will always see the best in me, or in anyone else.

But I can control what I see, and I can hope others do the same.