Lily Myers "Shrinking Women" Poetry Slam

"...I have been taught accommodation..."

"...I never meant to replicate her, but spend enough time sitting across from someone and you pick up their habits... a fugitive stealing calories to which she does not feel entitled..."

"...I asked 5 questions in genetics class today and all of them started with the word 'sorry'..."

"...a circular obsession I never wanted but inheritance is accidental..."


Thank you lily.


And now I just saw this on FB. Had to share because it's EXACTLY RIGHT. 

More awesome women

This time about health and body image stuffs.

First, Kendal talks about gaining weight, losing weight, being healthy and getting strong and removing all the taboos that have been placed on food and loving herself no matter what size.

"This weight loss story is different.  I don’t hate the pounds that I shed.  I don’t think I have “let myself go”.  This isn’t a punishment.  It’s a revelation.  Time to get moving." ~read more

Then, Haley Morris-Cafiero writes about photo-documenting how strangers react to her in public places, the dismissive way people interact with those around them who are overweight.

"I suspect that if I confronted these narrow-minded people, my words would have no effect. So, rather than using the attackers’ actions to beat myself up, I just prove them wrong. The camera gave me my voice." ~ read more

Finally, Sandra Wickham's most Health Ally post: Guilt (What is it good for?) Absolutely Nothing. Can't even tell you how much I needed to read that this morning.

"Don’t let one missed workout or eating something you know you shouldn’t have sabotage the rest of your efforts! Here’s what happens. You feel the guilt, you feel terrible about yourself. You feel like you failed. You get down on yourself and sometimes give up, permanently....OR we try and overcompensate. “I ate that food I wasn’t supposed to, I’m going to eat nothing but vegetables tomorrow.” That never works out and isn’t good for you. “I missed a workout, I’m going to do two workouts tomorrow!” If you actually do both workouts in one day, you end up over trained, extremely tired or injured and that interferes with continuing to your goals." ~read more

Just had to put these all in one place here mostly for my own benefit. I've been dangerously underweight and I've been significantly overweight. I'm currently training for a second marathon. I rock climb every week. I eat healthy.  I like good food. And I struggle, a lot, with body image, and wonder if that will ever go away. Just one of those things.

bacon

This post is an assemblage of some recent conversations and links that all stuck together in my mind as relevant. The sticking point being food. (Food and food culture, btw, are often on my mind.)

First, Wendy wrote this delightful post about being vegetarian in a family where vegetarians are suspect. (Which, is exactly what being a vegetarian in MY family is like. I've endured quite a bit of ribbing at large family dinners for neglecting to put meat on my plate.)

Then, Carrie wrote this very insightful piece about what if you were living just for you, making all of your life decisions NOT in the context of anyone else's desires/needs/preferences, etc... This is something I come crashing up against often. But it's interesting to note: this concept seems most pervasive when I am standing in the check out line at the grocery store, doing the weekly shopping for my family.

(Also, there's this this Cracked article about stupid habits you develop growing up poor, and recognizing that I do have angst over spending money on food, a frugality that scratches and pushes against quantity vs quality.)

Well, it all culminated for me with Carol posting this tantalizing recipe for Cornbread. Made with bacon drippings. Carol, Wendy and I had a brief back and forth on twitter about alternative lipids to use in place of the bacon drippings... But deep in my heart, I knew I wanted to do this recipe with bacon drippings.* Also, I realized that I was hesitant to admit that out-loud on social media. (The ironic twist; I feel as out of place eating meat among my creative community as I do NOT eating meat among my family members.)

Food is a funny thing.
Food culture is funny thing. So much emotion and personal identification (and group identification) is tied up in it.

So, when I heard this song on the radio, I couldn't help but laugh just a bit, in some disillusionment with ever knowing which group I am truly part of:



Mostly, right now, my food culture is just to enjoy sharing food and being fed.

*I have now made that cornbread (complete w/ bacon drippings) several times. It is delicious.

knives and needles

"humans will continue to reshape and redefine themselves by modifying their bodies."

~The Art and History of Body Modification~
Lori St. Leone

Little Sis just got a boob job. I'm thinking about getting her this tshirt. Also, I am contemplating getting my nipple pierced when she comes to town. Sort of a solidarity thing (BOOBS: she gets a new cup size, I get a sparkly ;). I was planning on doing it anyways (shiny!)

It has body modification back on my mind.

I was going to try and to write up some introspective piece about body modification, social acceptance, class distinction, aging, self image, hypocrisy in the various demographic groups that look down their nose at certain forms of modification while embracing others... etc etc etc...

but... my brain is not working so smoothly and I am short on time. So, in stead, an odd assortment of links on the subject.

Lori St. Leone's essay on the history of body modification (see quote at the of this post) is a MUST READ. Then follow that up with these rather extreme forms of body modifications. While you are at it, here's video footage of breast augmentation surgery and a post I wrote a while back regarding some dinner time conversations about boobs. Then over to Doves and Serpents where Heather admits to being judgmental towards people who have elective cosmetic surgery (and those who dye their hair; "Just accept yourself the way you are") and Heidi's exceptional follow-up post regarding the individual nature of how we choose to accessorize/alter our bodies to express who we are. Oh! Oh! and you MUST read this powerful poem, How To Make Love To A Trans Person! ("[bodies are] just oddly-shaped vessels for hearts." I love that.) On a different note, I love how prostheses are getting a make-over and becoming fashion statements (and... Aimee Mullins... /SWOON!)


Yes.
But one last thing I wanted to note... these things really aren't just a matter of personal decision making. Every one of them is a luxury that requires expendable income. My nipple piercing will cost considerably less than little sister's implants, but still no free lunch.
It's another factor in how we express our individuality; what we do with our expendable income (assuming you happen to be part of that small global minority that happens to have an expendable income.)

Anyhow, for your entertainment, I leave you with Amanda Palmer's Map of Tasmania, because self expression through pubic hair freedom must never be underestimated!

Cheers!

pushing past comfortable

Yesterday, a friend and I ran 13.1 miles.
(Which involved getting up at 3:30 am to drive to a drop point on the other side of town in order to be bused to the way-out-there start-lines, where we stood huddled in the cold and dark, clustered around heat lamps with all the other participants until it was finally time to start the race. /Whew!)

My plan/goal was just to finish. I was thinking of keeping a nice slow pace ("la-la-dee-dah") and breezing into the finish having accomplished merely running father than I previously have.

My friend, however, was in this to push hard and make a time goal.

So we found ourselves running at a nice stiff pace that I usually reserve for much shorter distances. I kept thinking we'd eventually slow down, but the miles flew past and we kept that pace like clockwork. The last two miles, pushing to the end of our limits I was SURE we'd slow down, but still we kept that pace. (It was NOT comfortable at this point.) And then finally the homestretch and a sprint to the finish, and zohMyGAWD that hurt SO MUCH!!... But we did it.

It made me realize how much I hold back, satisfied to stay in comfortable safe areas, when actually I have the capability to push farther/harder/faster. This, not just in running. In personal relationships and my professional life as well.

It's a fairly straightforward thing to pick up the running pace a bit. Not so simple to explain what that means in personal and professional aspects of my life, but it's something I am thinking about.

There is this: I would NOT have kept up that pace if I had not had my friend next to me, motivating me, encouraging me. (Thank you Katy.)

Meanwhile... My knees and my quads are ANGRY at me for keeping that less-comfortable pace. Ice packs and ibuprofen are helping.

[Here, here and here are the posts chronicling the building of my active life.]

strong legs

My body is not put together in the most graceful fashion (according to our cultural standards). I used to spend a lot of energy in wishing I had a different shape (usually something long-limbed, willowy, etc) and occasionally I engaged in unhealthy habits trying to force my body to be different than it was.

Yesterday, I biked 109 miles. And I felt strong doing it. I'm not very fast. But there is some hardwiring down deep in my muscles for going the distance: At 50 miles, and then again at 90 miles I felt a second & third wind kick in, and I thoroughly enjoyed reeling in biker after biker on that last brutal stretch to the finish. (Here's the fb photo album w/ a few pics I took during the ride.)

Some years back, while making out with a boyfriend, he exclaimed in a moment of awe "You've got these Thunder Thighs!" He was clueless to the more negative connotation of the term, was merely trying to express admiration for my powerful legs :P (So cute. I married that boyfriend :)

Now I have exactly three weeks to transition these legs from being able to bike 109 miles, to being able to run 13.1. Then six months after that, to run 26.2. (Pretty sure this will be harder than biking the 109. We'll see.)

Anyhow, Yesterday, after the bike ride, I was fascinated by the biker's tan-line across my thighs, and tried to capture it photographically (then, discovered, after a bath, a good deal of that line was made up of dust and grime, RE: second photo).

So here you go. a few gratuitous photos of my strong legs. :P

Kicking My Butt

So... in about 7 weeks, I'm signed up to ride a 109 mile bike race. Then, a few weeks after that, I'm signed up for a half marathon. It's about time I get serious and train for these.

Currently, I can bike about 50 miles, and run about 5 (not on the same day, of course). Building up the running mileage will be harder for me than the biking mileage so I have been perusing half marathon running schedules like Hal Higdon's, Jeff Galloway's, and various Runner's World plans, but to be honest... I suck at following plans. Maybe I should address that weakness and get better at following plans...

Anyhow, I AM pretty excited about BOTH of these events (both of them pushing my limits, but not TOO much. Er, well. We'll see.)

Meanwhile, I have also been thrilled to pick up quite a bit of illustration work. Oh, and we put our house up for sale... Plenty to keep me occupied and out of trouble. (Hm.. nope, still getting into trouble)

Anyhow.. that's what's up with me lately.

Now, to figure out... do I bike or run today? hmmm.....

gender, age, power (plus the white-washing of The Last Airbender)

[a couple random thoughts, bear with me]

So I just finished reading Survival of the Prettiest which was a fascinating read that left me feeling a bit old and ugly. Therefore it was all the more interesting listening to Amy Goodman interview prof Charles Ogeltree about Elena Kagan's supreme court nomination. Toward the end of the interview prof Ogeltree made this statement:

"...she will be smart, she’ll be independent, she’ll fit right in and know the law... She’s going to be a superb Supreme Court Justice. And she’s 50 years old. She will be there probably longer than anyone currently on the court. She is a long time to define what her ideology is going to be." (emphasis mine)

That statement made a real impact on me because he was basically saying "she's ONLY 50... she has so much left to learn/grow/etc" which was a shocking reversal of the "women expire after age 35" implied by Survival of the Prettiest. That reversal had a pretty powerful effect for me.

In other news, as as family we've been thoroughly enjoying the cartoon series Avatar: the Last Airbender (admission: I have a crush on Zuko) and now have plans to go see M. Night Shyamalan's movie version with some friends. But I am a bit disheartened, NOT by the fact that it has gotten poor reviews but by the apparent white-washing the casting process went through. And to be honest... I didn't notice it. Until it was pointed out by a friend. Also, I believe that the movie had to eliminate (for reasons of simplification) my favorite female characters: Toph, Azula, Mai, Ty Lee, and Suki. I LOVED that some of the most powerful warriors in the show were female. It will be fun to see the movie, but, also will enjoy going back to the cartoon after all is said and done.

anyhoo... just what was on my mind this morning. There you go. thanks for listening.

pain

On Tuesday I had a great idea for a Post.
High off the endorphins of an intense workout, my mind began to string together all the various discomforts we willingly inflict on ourselves and for what purposes. I was going to deftly draw lines of profound similarity between exercise, dieting, body piercing/tattooing, pursuing higher education, cosmetic surgery, and the Mormon penchant for monthly ritual caloric deprivation, to name a few.

Then Wednesday I discovered I had strained a few choice muscles in that workout. And I accidentally got a bad sunburn (sunscreen fail!) And I stayed up late several nights in a row working against a deadline (can no longer do that like I once did). And my body was starting to hate me and I was not be so excited about writing a post about pain.

Then Thursday, while stretching my arms over my head, something horribly wrong wrenched/tweeked/pinched/popped in that little area between the right shoulder blade and spine... so I currently have the range of motion of a plank of wood, with lovely rivulets of dull (and sometimes not-so-dull) pain radiating out from that shoulder-blade area.

Anyhoo... today doesn't hurt as bad as yesterday. And maybe by tomorrow, or Sunday, I'll be able to actually turn my head (Ice packs, heat pads, ibuprofen...). Maybe then I'll try to revisit that original post idea about pain.

(or, maybe not)

btw... here's a sketch I did last year when dealing with a very similar pain.

sensitivity, insecurity, thick/thin skinned...

Today Sean wrote a bit about insecurity, being thin skinned, and avoiding rejection. (Random coincidence, so did Wendy.)
He basically just took the words out of my mouth.

As an interesting joiner to that revelation; I'm meeting with an old friend tonight; he is convinced that if we do a brainstorming session on the subject, I will come away from it knowing how I can make at least as much off of my art, as I could off some run-of-the-mill day job (a prospect I am considering as money gets increasingly tight for us.)

I agreed to this brainstorming session with outward enthusiasm, but feel I should confess a good deal of... nervousness? Just how to I explain to this enthusiastic friend all of my insecurities, my fears, my lack of experience and knowledge and my low self-esteem, my inadequacy... Already pinging around in the back of my head are all the usual excuses I feed myself about lack of time, means, business savvy... Plus the usual line that I may be better off doing this 'thing' I do on the sidelines as a 'hobby' (hate hate hate that word)...

I've written about my insecurities on this topic before.

Nevertheless, I am curious about what we will come up with during this brainstorming session.

random books and stuff about beauty

This fascinating article led me to put Deborah Rhode's book The Beauty Bias on my reading list. Interesting quote from the article's review:

"In the most troubling chapter in her book, Rhode explores the feminist movement’s complicated relationship to eternal youth. The truth is that women feel good about competing in beauty pageants. They love six-inch heels. They feel beautiful after cosmetic surgery. You can’t succeed in public life if you look old in America. Of the 16 women in the U.S. Senate between ages 46 and 74, not one has gray hair. Rhode cites one feminist icon after another who changed her mind about the evils of cosmetic surgery, hair color, and Botox the instant the sagging, graying, and wrinkling set in."

Then, a friend recommended Survival of The Prettiest: The Science of Beauty by Nancy Etcoff, which, according to the amazon review,

"argues persuasively that looking good has survival value, and that sensitivity to beauty is a biological adaptation governed by brain circuits shaped by natural selection..." and "Rather than denigrate one source of women's power, it would seem far more useful for feminists to attempt to elevate all sources of women's power." (Plus, Publishers Weekly promises that with "Topics as wide-ranging as penis- or breast-enlargement surgery and the basics of haute couture [treated with wit and insight]... Etcoff's arguments are certain to initiate a great deal of discussion.")

I'm sure I'll have all manner of conflicting ideas and cognative dissonance about beauty after reading these two books. (HA! As if I didn't already.)

So anyhow, random bit of personal anecdote; today I didn't have to ride my bike to work. So, on a whim, I dressed up: A skirt, heels, (a corset too), a little extra make-up. Just because, woohoo! And I admit, I felt hawt.

Then DH refused to kiss me: "ew, you're wearing MAKE-UP..."

/shrugging

So go figure.

(BTW... was SO relieved to finally take off those heels/corset/skirt at the end of the day and hang out the rest of the evening in t-shirt, shorts, and bare feet. Yep.)

bonding over sweat

(I wrote this last year but kept it in the slush pile.. however, as I just finished my third triathlon and am participating in the weekly local aquathlon, I thought I'd go ahead and publish it.)

I think I may have found my thing, my niche, my community. Maybe. We'll see.

After visiting multiple church groups, political discussions, feminist book clubs, artist cooperatives, etc, looking for a community to fill the gap left by removing myself from heavy activity in the church, I think I finally hit pay dirt.

When attending all those aforementioned activities, I find myself sitting back, silently listening in awed and slightly intimidated shyness.


But yesterday I did a triathlon (update, this week I did my third triathlon). And I had no less than 6 lively conversations with various individuals. (A rather unusual occurrence for me.) Some were with people I had met in previous races or at the gym, some were just complete strangers and we bonded over our sweat and our aches and our tired muscles. I'll probably see some of these folk at the next race. Strike up conversations with a few more as well.

Perhaps it's because it is a community removed from the more controversial/divisive elements of politics and religion that I feel more at my ease (yep, got a lot of scar-tissue from previous involvement in politics/religion). Perhaps it's just the endorphins.

Don't get me wrong, my tendency is STILL to observe silently from the background; life of the party, I am NOT. I'm also a pretty pathetic athlete.

But still.
We'll see.

age is just a number

That number could be $3 million (an estimate at what Demi Moore has spent on cosmetic surgery, tho she doesn't like to talk about it)
Or perhaps that number is ￡6 (what madonna spent to create her own gym) [which leads to another number: 3-6 hours she spends working out every day]
The number might also be the $288 it would take to buy this anti-aging skin care set.
As last resort, $39.99 looks cheap for this anti-aging make-up kit.

Those are the numbers I thought of the other day when I looked through this Fit and Fabulous over 40 gallery.

(OH! the other thing I though about looking at that gallery of beauties: PHOTOSHOP! Hello, here's what Faith Hill has to go through to be RedBook cover ready. Check out more Photoshop horrors.)

These "You-can-still-look-like-you're-20-even-when-you-are-40" spreads that the glossies like to put out make me feel like shit. What's that? They are SUPPOSED to make me feel like shit? So that I will pay them back by buying all the anti-aging shit they sell advertising space for?? (BTW, I love Sarah Haskins and her brilliant dissections of advertising targeting woman.)

Yeah, I'm afraid of aging. I bemoan the wrinkles that are appearing around my eyes and mouth. I DO have a cheap-end stash of anti-aging shit that I pay homage too and one of the reasons I work-out and eat healthy is to try to stay young/cute. I'm not dismissing efforts towards being healthy and taking care of one's self (I ♡ good hygiene) (plus I really dig make-up) (and muscles), I'm merely trying to hack my own insecurities here. Bear with me.

Anyhoo...
What helps me get over feeling shitty about aging: Women (of any age) who accomplish awesome things (other than staying wrinkle free). Like women athletes who kick the behinds of women half their age in sports. Women astronauts (of which there are 4 in space right now!). Women comedians (margaret cho ya'll! She's awesome. And raunchy~ consider yourself warned). Women comic book writers and illustrators. Women artists. Women in math and science and medicine, women in politics, women writers, women chefs, women musicians, etc etc etc (sorry... got tired finding links)

You get the idea. The idea being: there is a lot of cool stuff to dedicate time and energy to besides merely trying to stay young and cute. It's a good thing for me to keep in mind as my numbers go up with every fast-passing year. Oh, do you know Kate over at Eat The Damn Cake? she wrote this awesome piece about the flat tummy police and goals for aging.

anti-aging ads suck

Why yes Avon, I DO remember when my eyes looked younger. Thank you for asking.

$$$ (or, career-fail insecurity)

one cause of significant insecurity and occasional bouts of panic/frustration/sense-of-failure: i attach huge emotional value to the dollar worth of 'what I do'.

and 'what I do' has no practical dollar value (ie, brings no money to our coffers).

i feel it like a chain, my little creative 'hobbies' that i, as a pampered housewife, indulge in. (god that almost made me sick to write it. but that is how it feels sometimes)

for added weight of guilt/failure; the fact that other people, DO get practical dollar value for those same indulgent creative 'hobbies'.

(NOT GOOD ENOUGH NOT GOOD ENOUGH NOT GOOD ENOUGH NOT GOOD ENOUGH NOT GOOD ENOUGH NOT GOOD ENOUGH.)

as a related segue... i sabotage all opportunities to get practical dollar value for my creative hobbies.

does this even make sense?
(pay this post no mind, it has merely been a bad day, requiring a rant and an outlet)
(i will most likely delete this. it's pretty humiliating.)

Ogling

I think I ogled today.
At Subway, getting a six inch veggie on wheat, there was a problem with the cash register and the manager had to be called up to the front to fix it... and I kid you not, "call in the big guns" was furreals. I hope I wasn't obvious. I'm quiet and non-obtrusive by nature, but found I was having a hard time focusing on the transaction, instead just trying to fathom the diameter of those biceps.

And then feeling slightly ashamed about the snarky way I have rolled my eyes at male counterparts caught "looking" at some superb specimen of female physique.
(Actually, I find I ogle superb specimen's of female physique too.)

Muscle bound is not my type.
But it was interesting to find myself in a situation where I was disinclined to look away from some guys' arms.

to cover their nakedness....

Cabaret sensation Amanda Palmer last week took a bunch of pics of herself nekkid and put them out for folks to appropriate for artistic purposes.

Last week I went to the gym but forgot my workout t-shirt. I decided to not let it stop me and worked out in my sports bra and shorts. And felt so completely exposed.

I have several years worth of life drawing experience under my belt (yah, very punny,) including (but not limited to) a few years at BYU where the models wear bathing suits and students and teachers can get in trouble for going to undraped sessions off-camps (what a joke. Seriously)

Recently I have been considering applying to be a model for the local drawing studio.

In the privacy of my home, I walk around practically naked all the time. Always have.

When I first took off my garments I didn't really notice a difference until I went to a family dinner and fully clothed in modest clothing, felt so very very vulnerable.

I'm trying to find a way to draw this all together in a cohesive way, thoughts about my body image, nakedness (particularly female nakedness), LDS moral standards, the temple, garments, etc... But cohesion and witty examinations will have to wait for another day (how's that for optimism?) For now I will just leave you with my rendition of Amanda's nekkidness, which worked it's way out of my brush as a sort of a tribute (rebuttal?) to The Garden of Eden and the root of all ashamedness at being found naked.

Food, Flesh and Spirit

(also posted at The Exponent.)

This is going to be a little sensitive to talk about, but it's been on my mind lately so here goes.

I used to have some serious issues with my body and with food. For most of my teens and 20s I was pinging back and forth between thin and thick, either starving or stuffed, but never satisfied. And my mind was utterly and completely preoccupied with it all; what I was eating, what I wasn't and how it translated on my hips and tummy. (It took a good chunk of brain space for all that obsession. Aside from the bad health, I miss all the other things I could have been putting my mind to.)

What has been interesting for me is to trace back and try to mine my history of eating disorders. Inevitably, the worst spikes in the disorder corresponded to my times of heaviest activity in the church. In high school when I was deeply involved in the seminary counsel. During my mission. At BYU while holding a calling as RS pres (and working at the temple and teaching at the MTC).

These disorders were spiritually distressing to me, I viewed them as a sin that kept me from God and made overcoming them a spiritual quest of worthiness. To no avail. That just made it worse.

This isn't a universal experience. Not all LDS women experience this. (And PLENTY of non-LDS women experience it.) However from many personal conversations and from the plethora of anecdotal evidence I get the sense that I was not an anomaly among Mormon women. In fact, I was in good company.

Happily, I think that depression and eating disorders (etc) among Mormon women are being recognized and addressed by the leadership much more than they were before.

But I sat in Sunday School last week and had an epiphany. The teacher was talking about service in the church and kept using the term "swallowed up". "Swallowed up in the work of the Lord". And how we should strive to achieve being "swallowed up" and what things keep us from being "swallowed up" and as everyone else around me gave faith promoting answers to the problem of why we aren't "swallowed up" the answer in my head was "Because humans are hardwired for SELF PRESERVATION."

My epiphany was this: when I was starving myself perhaps I was trying to disappear, to erase myself, to be swallowed up (and cease to exist).

And when I was stuffing myself perhaps it was my sense of self preservation refusing to let myself disappear, increasing my area of circumference as protection against being swallowed up.

Who knows? Maybe Freud would.

Me, I'm just happy to have that behind me thank you very much. It is nice to finally have a healthy navel, (and strong loins?) and to have my mind (relatively) free from a preoccupation with food and my flesh.

Just some of my thoughts on the subject at the moment.

blessed are the paps

[being discussed at The Exponent.]

Two dinner-time conversations at family gatherings:

dinner number one; the patriarch of the family loudly bemoans the women in the stake who are dumb enough, deceived enough, lacking-in-the-spirit enough to get those "disgusting breast implants."

dinner number two; the same patriarch, in discussing Janet Jackson's wardrobe malfunction
loudly scoffs at how stupid Janet must be to think that anyone would want to see her "old ugly shriveled up 40 yr old breasts."

Talk about your lose lose situation.

The way the ladies in my family resolve this dilemma breaks down by generation. The women 40 and over (my mother and aunts) chose to embrace (or endure with relative good humor) "old and shriveled up". In fact, one dear aunt for her 50th birthday gave her boobs 'a gift' by refusing to wear a bra the entire day. The women in their 20's and 30's (my sisters and SILs) are, almost without exception, making arrangements to have augmentation, not giving a darn about some old guy's assessment of their spiritual/mental capacity.

Me? My dirty little secret (well, not now) is that I do harbor a hidden curiosity about what a scalpel and a tiny bit of silicon (or saline) could do for me; I'm not entirely impervious to comments about "old ugly and shriveled up." (And I am much closer to 40 than I am to 20). But... have you SEEN breast implant surgery? I saw one on the Health Channel once a while back and I still get the willies thinking about it- the graphic slicing and dicing of such a sensitive body region (Naomi Wolf refers to it "sexual mutilation"). I'm much more inclined to get a nipple ring thank you very much. Less blood, shorter healing time.

Which makes me wonder: I know the injunction against extra piercings is an official from-the-pulpit edict. But what about breast implants? Have church leaders spoken out against elective cosmetic surgery in a similar way? (I'm too lazy to search this out for myself, so if you have a link, please share it.) I know a lot of LDS women do get augmentation and don't feel conflicted about it at all, whereas a second stud in the ear (don't even mention the nipple)~ No way!

But mostly I just wonder what it is that goes on inside the head of that dear patriarch, the beloved head of my family, when he makes such comments as the aforementioned ones. The underlying sentiment in both statements are ones of disgust, an abhorrence for a woman's breasts (or at least for breasts that aren't naturally young and plump). Maybe he really is disgusted by breasts. Or perhaps it is his way of trying to circumvent his own normal (natural man?) response to women's breasts, to be above any perceived sexual impurity by taking an internalized guilt and projected it outward as a defense? I don't know.

It is all just a mess of mixed messages.

dirty

[being discussed at The Exponent.)


During my youth and early adulthood I had a bit of an obsession with being spiritually clean. The peak of this obsession came during my mission and the ensuing couple of years; through dedicated church service, scripture study (including a fixation with memorization), prayer/meditation and temple attendance I sought God's approval, desperately wanting to be found worthy, clean. What I find ironic is that this was the time of my life where I felt the most unclean, the most unworthy, and none of my full hearted sincerity or excellent memorization skills could wash that out. Looking back I'm not sure if I worked hard because I felt dirty, or if I felt dirty because I could never work hard enough (scrubbing away... 'out damn spot!')

Pondering my own experience, it occurs to me that this tendency to feel unclean targets the female gender. Yes, I'm projecting, I am definitely generalizing (big time), and my only evidence is personal observation; but what I am wondering is if LDS women (in general) feel inherently MORE dirty and therefore work HARDER than their male counterparts. Yes, the gospel says that ALL have sinned and fall short of the glory of God. And yeah, we typically think of men being 'dirtier' with leaving socks lying all over the place etc, but historically women's bodies have been the recipient of the most censure for filthiness and I have a sneaking suspicion that such ideas still underlie and inform a good deal of our belief systems.

In every ward I have been in there is usually the open recognition that the ladies work harder than the gentlemen; visiting teaching stats outstripping home teaching stats, women spending proportionally way more time in lesson preparations (even if that is merely in making crafty handouts), etc... It seemed that every temple endowment session I attended women easily out numbered the men (except in the Provo temple when districts of elders were in attendance). These facts are used as the anecdotal evidence that women are just naturally more spiritual than men, but when that rhetoric is combined with the real life fact that having a superior spiritual nature doesn't translate into any real decision-making power in the organization, perhaps women just implicitly feel they have more to prove. To themselves. To God. To the ward.

Maybe we can chalk it up to traditional gender roles that have the man of the house as the main breadwinner, spending hours each day bringing home the temporal bacon. The stay-at-home wife sees a church calling as a serious full time job to which she can dedicate her energies, providing a sense of purpose, a sense of responsibility, and a chance to prove herself. Maybe this is part of a gender construct that gives women more accolades for frequent tearful testimonies than men. Cultural training about masculinity and femininity (and whether or not it's okay to be in touch with your feelings).

Or maybe there is the subtle implication that women are a little less worthy, and the little pedestal of superior purity is a smokescreen. Cleanliness before God is a huge part of our belief system; baptism to wash away our sins, bits of bread and sips of water on a weekly basis to sanctify us, continual repentance of the blemishes that constantly mar our souls; all of this leading up to the ultimate purification of the temple initiation and endowment, preparing us to pass through the veil that separates us from God. A promise of being clean enough to enter his holy presence.

The women in the room will now please veil their faces.