Archive | Feminist Matters

Lucky Friday the 13th!

Happy happy Friday the 13th! This day may have a bad rap, but in any cosmology that honors the divine feminine, it is the luckiest of them all. Friday is the day of Venus, the goddess of love (Freya is the Nordic Venus); prized by witches and pagans, 13 is the number of lunar and menstrual cycles in every year. AKA female-forward as fuuuuuck. Can’t you just feel patriarchy quaking in its boots? So reclaim this traditionally maligned day by honoring rather than fearing its beautiful goddess energy. Count your blessings, hatch them for others, release everything that doesn’t live up to Venus’ glorious ethos of truth, compassion, and beauty—and say yes to the rest!

There’s No Pleasing Daddy

This was a fairly bogus day–a lot of mansplaining/scolding in my personal life. But I was very happy to learn that Jamie Spears is finally stepping down as conservator of his daughter, though his announced “choice” reads as very Cuomo–AKA an attempt to control the when-and-how now that the writing is already on the wall.

It may seem silly to focus on anything tabloid-related, but the story of Britney Spears’ conservatorship is a devastating model of how patriarchy infects every aspect of US life, from government to nuclear family. Essentially it underscores that, as a woman, you can be a multimillion-dollar enterprise, and still wield no control over your life.

For anyone with shitty parents, Britney Spears’ story is a worst-case scenario–one in which your abusers benefit from your ability to transcend their abuse while they abuse you some more. No parent should be granted complete control of their adult child’s life, especially if they financially benefit from that control. Family dysfunction is usually a contributor in emotional decompensation, so reenacting childhood trauma by reestablishing parental control is counter-intuitive–“criminal,” to quote Britney herself. Continue Reading →

A Lonely Otherwise (The 10-Year Breakup)

ghost

I felt anger rise when you’d regale me with endless stories of your family—the spats, foibles, boasts masked as kvelling. I would have loved to have loved to listen but you never even learned my parents’ names. It took a decade for you to learn my full name.

I felt anger rise when you said I was deluging you with my life. You never asked questions but rattled on about yours, deleting only the parts that would cast you in an unseemly light.

Such as: the other ladies.

Such as: who really paid your bills.

Ten years before, the last time I saw my parents, I told them I had recently ended it with someone. It was the first of our many breakups, and the wound was fresh. Continue Reading →

"All, everything I understand, I understand only because I love."
― Leo Tolstoy