First off I would like to welcome my new readers. HI NEW READERS! Please stay. Also, tell your friends.
Further, thank you to the person who linked the hell out of my post on correctly identifying Rosie the Riveter in several places. You drove the hell out of my site traffic. much love to you.
I promise to get back to tell the truth about people to their digital faces later but today I am going to tell you a story.
Once upon a time there were two lovely ladies who were in love.
They looked like this:
Sadly, like many other ladies who are in love they were not ready to admit it to themselves or other people. So, in the place of the pain of honesty they decided to try a poly relationship with someone they thought was a prince.
Poly can work and many people live happily ever after within it but not these ladies. And that’s mostly because the third leg of their triad was not so much a prince as a clinical narcissist who was incapable of being in a loving, healthy relationship.
So that was an issue.
For real. I’ve got stories but they all involve him so none of them are interesting. Also, this is not about him.
Instead this is about the two lovely ladies.
So the prince thing wasn’t working out.
Also, one of the ladies is gay. Which is also an issue.
But these ladies did love each other and they fought hard to be together. Even though there were times that they didn’t have anything to talk about or any real desire to interact, they kept loving and that brought them back to talking.
After much pain and trials and fights and tears, they got out.
After twelve years of emotional abuse against her and six against me, we, um, I mean the ladies, got out. In fact, three years ago yesterday, the lad…fuck it, we got out.
People often ask us how we knew it was time to go and the answer is, we started asking that question.
If you’ve started imagining how much better your life will be once you are no longer in your relationship, it’s probably time to no longer be in that relationship.
Don’t get it twisted, we had a lot of advantages. We had each other. So when he would gaslight us or rage or generally act like himself, we could each give the other a sanity check.
And yes, we were actually in a place where we sometimes had to look at each other and ask “Did that happen the way I remember or the way he said it happened?”
No really. Gaslighting is a fucking trip.
We also had family who helped us get to where we are now. We had friends who were smart enough to know that we weren’t ready to hear “You are being emotionally and mentally abused,” so they instead simply loved and supported us. We got extremely lucky.
So what is the point of this little anecdote? Why am I spending my very early morning typing about this and not ranting about some social injustice?
Because statistically someone reading this has never heard of gaslighting but is suffering from it right now.
Hey there hypothetical person. You are not crazy. This is an actual thing. This kind of abuse is hard to identify. People who do this do not change. They just get better at abusing you. This is not a situation that you can work through or overcome. They are made of poison and you don’t have to eat that anymore.
Yes, it can be extremely difficult on a number of levels. I understand.
Leave anyway. Make a plan. Execute it and get the fuck out. No matter how hard it is or will be, just go.
Because you deserve better. If you take nothing else from this post take that.
You deserve better than that kind of life.
Is the question I’ve been asking myself since my social media feed blew up about her yesterday.
Because I guess I’m old and not a fan of exploitative music…so yeah. I had no idea.
But I do now.
As an aside, my long dark night of the seasonally affect depression is possibly sort of over. Or not. fun with brain chemistry!
Anyway, in case you are like me and had never heard of her go read this. For those of you who don’t want to do that, here are the basics.
Jessi J is a singer who ha spent a good deal of her public life both talking about the fact that she strives to be a “positive role model for young people.” And that’s, you know, nice, I guess. Apparently one of her other favorite quotes is “I always say that I’m half-artist, half-therapist.” And she’s bi, which will become important in a minute.
Wen she was first starting out and was singing songs like “Do It Like a Dude,” (no seriously that’s what it’s called. Don’t look at me, I didn’t name it.) She used the fact that she was an out bisexual. Basically, she did things that a male singer would do, showing off other scantily clad females in her videos. And he talked about her sexuality all the time. Now, in part that happened because when you talk about something like that one time it becomes a part of your headline. I’m a writer who is an out bisexual so everything I do is as a bisexual writer. She’s a singer who talked about being bi so of course, in the press she was a bi singer. That’s not her fault but it’s something that she knew about going in. Everyone who lives in the world knows how this works. Vanilla Ice was a white rapper and this chick is a bi singer.
Except she isn’t anymore, apparently.
And that announcement just so happens to coincide with the release of some new music.
Gee, I wonder if those two things are in any way connected.
A lot of people are angry about this but I think they’re angry for the wrong reasons.
The issue isn’t that Jessi J said she was bi and has now decided that she isn’t. The issue is that Jessi J is clearly someone who is willing to trade on her sexuality for attention in a way that rips the role models away from her fans a not small portion of whom are Gender and secual Minorities.
Who are the primary consumers of pop music? Teens. And GSM teens who lack role models in their lives often look for them in entertainment. That’s true of all teens, no matter their sexuality. Ripping away a kid’s role models? Not good. Especially not good for the group of teens overwhelmingly likely to already be facing a lack of role models and positive messages about themselves and their sexuality.
You know, I think that people should be honest about who they are. I do. So if this is what is true for Jessi J right now, then fine. Do that and be happy. it’s just distasteful to me that she would use this aspect of her life as a publicity stunt.
If she wants to keep her sexuality private then I respect her right to do so. but talking about it in the media, no matter what her sexuality is, is the opposite of keeping it private. It’s trading on it to gain press and ultimately to make money.
That’s just tacky.
In which I am stupid and A- is extremely understanding.
I kind of hate Valentine’s Day but in what has somewhat become a blog tradition, I take the opportunity to tell the whole world why I love my girl.
Hey do you guys know what flirting is?
Because I do not.
Does this appear to be flirting to you?
To me it looks like two people talking.
This also appears to be a picture of two people talking.
Seriously, I do not even recognize flirting when it happens to me. Apparently it does happen to me with some level of frequency, at least A- says so.
According to her, it happened last week and I didn’t notice.
We went to an event here in town. It was fun and cold and there were a lot of people there and also a great deal of booze. We had fun. We chatted. We shivered. We drank vodka infused hot cocoa to quell the shivering and then this guy came up and started talking to us. And talking. He was super friendly and extremely excited to meet us, like weirdly excited for a Minnesotan.
For those of you who have never been to this state, these people don’t get really excited over anything that doesn’t have the capacity to end in a Super Bowl ring. Given the Viking’s record, that means they don’t get excited over anything.
This guy was excited. it kind of went without saying that he isn’t from around here but he said it. He also made a point of saying that he was staying in a near-by hotel, and that he was generally very physically warm, and that he would be in the bar.
A- says that all of these things were signals. Apparently, we were supposed to pick up those signals as an invitation to come up to his room? I don’t know.
All of this was obvious to A-. I, on the other hand, thought were having a nice, albeit somewhat strange, conversation. Luckily, I didn’t flirt back.
Because I do that sometimes. Because I don’t know when I’m being flirted with. Because in this aspect of life, I am extremely stupid.
I just think I’m having an interesting conversation with a new person while the whole time I am giving the totally wrong message to the interesting person. Because in this aspect of life, I am extremely stupid.
As a result of this massive blind spot in my understanding of, you know, human people, we have had to make some rules.
When A- says someone is flirting, she is right. End of file. If I can’t recognize it happening, I don’t have any basis for an argument against the idea that it was happening.
When A- says my friendly conversation is being read as flirting back, she is right. End of file. The reason is the same.
At those times, as with last week, she patiently explains to me when the hell is going on and all the things I missed. She doesn’t get jealous. She doesn’t assume that I’m doing on purpose.
She does laugh quite often because I’ll admit it’s hilarious. I am, frankly, a brilliant woman who not only fails at one of the most common aspects of social interaction, she doesn’t even know that it’s happening.
Like I said, she is extremely understanding. Love you A-. Happy Contrived Romance Day. I love you all the other days of the year just as much.
Poor, poor canine.
Originally posted on forty face:
This is Jake. He is a small dog of indeterminate parentage, intense anxiety and iron will.
I am killing this dog… by not making room for him in the red chair in my craft room. I am knitting. I want elbow room. Jake needs to be squeezed into the seat of the chair directly beneath my right elbow. Not the left elbow – the right elbow. Not the pillow on the floor – the chair. Not the special faux sherpa dog bed on the computer chair – the almost non-existent space in the red chair. Under my right arm. That place. Right there. HE WILL DIE if he doesn’t get to lie there.
HE IS STARING NOW. HE IS STARING AT HIS RIGHTFUL PLACE IN THE CHAIR. HE HAS BEEN STARING FOR FIFTEEN MINUTES. YES, I TIMED IT.
I am killing this dog… by leaving the solitary Lego man…
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