Beauty Or The Beast?

Women, I think, more than men, tend to be territorial. While men may have classically been the hunters and warriors, you better bet that while the women stayed home and cleaned cave, sweet cave and cooked and watched the hairy little kids that they had to protect their fair share from the saber-tooth tigers of lore. In fact, in a poll taken asking who tends to be more territorial, men or women, 7 out of 10 answered in the affirmative for women, in one case, with the answer "...Women are like tigers guarding their kill." And so, the vestigial feeling remains in all women-- but what happens when the instinct in women is raised by another woman? While half of us is groomed from the cradle to be sugar and spice and everything nice and sweet, the other half is still thinking, "Bitch, get close enough, and I will sink my teeth as far as they can get into your eyes like grapes."

Is this really any surprise? In 2003, the FBI conducted a statistics report which showed that assault by women had risen 41% since 1992, in contrast to a 4.3% increase among boys. I myself, if this blog's content is any proof, am much more of a lover than a fighter, and yet, I'm not ashamed to admit that around the same time as this census, I was involved in two locker room fights in high school. And won. And if girls are willing to fight like cats and dogs over things like a bathroom stall to change in before gym class, how driven do you think we really are to fight over things we really want? Grown-ass women come to tooth and claw over discount Prada at sample sales in the sterile and soothing atmosphere of Barney's. And that's just Prada.

Like the sort of marks that wild animals leave to assert their presence in nature, women leave subtle clues for other women to see when they're marking out their territory. (Guys, prepare to have the lid blown way off.) Facebook provides a sort of "soft" surface to scratch on-- among especially younger girls and women, it provides a place to publicly stake out your claim. Women may post numerous items on a guy's page to send off a "taken" message to other women, or to undermine others. If you really want to get all scientific about it, check out the timestamps on recurring poster's entries. Chances are, if there's a man-stomping-ground fight brewing, there will be a rapid retaliation time between two women's messages on one wall. She posted yesterday? The other will post today. It's a not-so-silent waiting game until one gives up or gives in. Or, just resorts to less public forms of communication.

Women, unlike men, are tactile creatures. We touch things to find out more about them. Watch a woman shop, and you'll soon realize this. In person, women tend to stake out their interest the way they know best-- through touch. If another woman is constantly putting her hands on the arm or shoulder or back of a man, she might as well have branded "TAKEN!" across his forehead for other women to read. Here is a classic example of this, along with some advice for women how to handle a situation like this. The number one response? Be nice, and if that doesn't work, just walk away.

Listen for name-dropping. Does someone's name in particular keep coming up? Bingo. People naturally want to talk about what they're excited about. Is someone in the conversation coming back with responses like, "Oh, that's so funny-- Andre went to Mexico for vacation last year, too!" Five minutes later, it'll be, "Well, the other day, Andre said..." Women, as you may have noticed, cannot keep our traps shut. So if we can talk about you, we will. And if we can talk about you in context with other people so that they know that we're all over your shit? Even better. Let the gossip begin.

And then there's just women's intuition. We know when someone's creepin'. We usually can sniff out pretty quickly who they're creepin' with. It's not like we're "snooping" or "being nosey"-- the best way that I can explain it is that most women have the ability to look at another woman and go, "Huh. Yup. She's totally his type, and you know what? She's been coming around a lot more recently. Hmm. Gotcha." If you really want to see how and what women think of Other Women, I highly suggest the movie "The Women" (the 2008 version). Women just know other women. We get them in the way that you guys generally tend to understand anything that has a motor. We know what she means when she says cryptic things to her friends. We know when she's trying to make us jealous. We know why she is taking 500 photos of you and her, or the life around you and her. And we know what those song lyrics really mean. In an ideal world, you'd be able to use the two women that you're seeing to understand the other, because chances are, they know each other far better than you do. In this world, unless you have huge vat of mud and a large inflatable pool on hand-- don't.

There's ladies, and then there's not-so ladies. So how does a "lady" deal with a situation without her fists?

Girls are taught from an early age to assert themselves when they feel like they're being pushed around, and this is a lesson that sticks for both emotional and physical pushing and shoving, as well as leads to the phenomenon of cat-fights. The Catch-22 is this: If you actually assert yourself and your emotions and express your displeasure by saying something like, "Hey, I know what you're doing to me, and I don't like it and the way it makes me feel, AT ALL," you're in jeopardy as coming off as "needy," "overbearing," "controlling," "trying to change" someone, and yes, my favorite-- "a crazy bitch." However, this is the way that your mother and your public school education taught you how to communicate in. It's unfortunate that some men and other women couldn't give less of a fuck that approaching a problem head-on and distinctly is not considered the ideal way to communicate. You may be thinking, "What? You're crazy. No way. I want open and honest communication, all the time!" Well. Let's put ourselves in two scenarios, shall we?

Scenario One: You're a guy, and you've been engaging in some seedy and slightly sleazy behavior behind the back of a girl who you consider normally very sweet. But hey, whatever, right? Until one afternoon when she looks you dead in the eye and says, "Look, I like you a lot, and I think we have a pretty good time together, but I know what you're doing, and it makes me feel like shit. Did you ever think about how this makes me feel?" OH SHIT. Caught red-handed. So, what do you do? If you're even a half-way decent guy, you come clean and apologize and actually start doing right by her. But we all know, even in the most contrite individual, part of you is going "BITCH. You ruined all my good fun. And because of what? Feelings? Puh-lease. There are wild oats to be sown!" Because believe it or not, women have that same thought-process, too.

Which brings us to scenario two: You're another female roommate or coworker, when, one morning, your other female roomie/coworker approaches you and says, "Look, I love sharing meals with you, but I've noticed recently that you aren't contributing to the food supply, and, in fact, are eating some of mine. I wouldn't mind so much, but money's a little tight for me right now, and it's hard to do the grocery shopping for one person, let alone two." This is another situation where as the equal-opportunity snacker, you know you're to blame, but at the same time, you can't help but feeling a little self-righteous. So you generally come back with something like this as a retort: "Sorry, but I didn't see your name on that food." And then, for good measure, add in, "And could you clean your expired food out of the fridge? It's taking up space." Passive-aggressive female defense at its best.

Basically, with this first option, you're trying to assert yourself the best way you know how, but unfortunately, our society has stressed the ideal of the "sweet" girl to the point where many women are torn between the hard choice of feeling like if they express themselves, they'll lose a close relationship, or if they don't, they'll get continually steam-rolled. So, what to do? Pick another option?

Then there's the ultimatum-- "You can't have it both ways-- choose." Not a favorite. It backs people into corners and makes them do the one thing that all the previous behavior has shown an aversion to-- picking one option and sticking with it. Feminists would tell you ultimatums are an enlightened woman's friend. Men would tell you you're starting to sound like their mother. And women don't listen to ultimatums.

And then there's our third option, otherwise known as "The Girl Next Door." It balances a healthy dose of looking the other way with still being sweet to all involved. AKA: no bitching at him, no sinking your teeth into her eyeballs or fist into her jaw if you meet her, and crying only to your friends and pillow at night. Most men would probably tell you that they prefer this option. Most women, myself included, will tell you it's a recipe for pretty much one thing: an unhappy woman.

There are some people who can raise "The Girl Next Door" approach to kind of a cosmic and Karmic ideal, which involves realizing that The Other Woman is not all to blame, and, in fact, another wounded party involved; that the man in this situation is the one that has orchestrated this all; and that maybe there are reasons for him doing the things he does. There's lots of forgiveness and Zen-ness involved in this approach. I am not quite that good of a person. You can strive for it, but it's hella hard.

So, what is a girl to do if her locker room fighting days are past, and all forms of communication seem to be moot? Will an eloquent "This is how I feel" conversation ever truly give the satisfaction of a good right hook, or are women always doomed to be silent about certain things due to the fears of not being the quintessential Perfect Girl? You may say that you want the truth, but do you really want to handle the repercussions it may have? What do you think? Is there really any way to address these sorts of issues while both being strong yet not being a hard-ass?

XOXO

The Tough-Love Guide To Splitsville: What Do YOU Want?

This is pretty frank. If you're someone who gets upset easily, you may not want to read it. If you really don't want to know how women go through the after-shocks of "it's over", don't read this. If you wear perpetually rose-tinted glasses, and think true love prevails, this ain't for you.

But if you are going through a break-up, or feel lost, alone, scared, or like you need something to shake you out of it and at the same time make you feel less alone and unloved, read on, sister, or I guess to not be gender-biased-- friend. Hi. I'm not going to say "Let's hold each other while we sob," because that is so not my scene or how I do this, but I may be inclined to say, "If you need the occasional hug, I'm down for that, and in the meantime, let's curl up with a good book and chat and smoke."

So. You're now an Uno that used to be part of a Duo. Join the club. Take a seat. I'm gonna need your full attention. So stop thinking about it for a moment. I'm not going to sugar-coat any of this. I think it's about time we didn't take a "one size fits all" approach to what happens after it's over. If you really want to know how women get through this without going through boxes of Kleenex and repeatedly watching "The Notebook", this is where you want to be. I mean, that's all well and good if it's what gets you through, but not all of us operate like that. Some of us need to know what to expect if we want to get on with our lives, straight-up, no chaser.

Yes, You are Going to Lose Weight: You know how there's that very media-contrived popular image of that woman who's just had her heart broken drowning her sorrows in pint after pint of Ben & Jerry's Chubby Hubby? Well. I have never, ever met a woman who actually went on an eating binge and gained weight after a split. Instead, the norm I have found is that women actually lose weight. This is accomplished in one of two ways: "Do-Something" women usually throw themselves into their gym membership with renewed vigor and burn those pounds away to a leaner, more competitive self. "What-The-Fuck-Just-Happened?!" women usually get thrown right off their appetites and start to whittle away.

Let's break it down. Much to my chagrin, I recently found that when you feel comfortable with yourself and someone else, you eat. Why not, right? You know the term "comfort food"? Yeah. You're happy. You're not worried. You're probably feeling pretty secure. So you want to keep feeding that feeling, either physically or emotionally.

Well, after a split, shock sets in. It's going to happen, no matter how amicably it happens. At first, you may just forget to eat. Hey, it happens. Your mind is preoccupied elsewhere. If you're a smoker, like I am, you can easily mistake hunger for the need to smoke. Which further suppresses your appetite. Then, when you do get back around to that food thing, odd feelings may get dredged up that set you right off of eating. For me, it was disgust. Every time I sat down to eat, my mind would start wandering through what should have been closed and padlocked doors, and I would find myself so physically disgusted that I felt like I might vomit even before putting food in my mouth. I lost 6 pounds in 3 days. Not good. I don't really have 6 pounds to lose. Now, you can locate my hipbones for the first time since I hit puberty, and I'm honestly concerned that a pickpocket in Italy could just pick me up and carry me away instead of dealing with pockets.

Because I can't do this for myself, I'm going to do it for you: DO NOT THINK ABOUT IT. I don't mean the whole mess of affairs (ha), I just mean the things that happened that you couldn't have helped, one way or another. Really. Some things shouldn't be dwelt on. Don't give in to those thoughts that will never, or should never, be answered. You will never, and SHOULD never, know what it was like. You really, really don't want to know the details. So making them up isn't doing anyone any favors, least of all you, lady. And you are who matters right now.

I will say, however, that there is one up-side to losing post-disaster weight: compared to your emaciated African-child frame, your mammeries are going to look more massive than ever. It's the little wins.

Vices, Or "Why Is That Pack Empty Already?": You feel a little used and abused, so now you want to use and abuse something else, right? Alcohol. Cigarettes. Controlled substances. Give me the Stoli, and nobody gets hurt, right? Yeah. We've all been there. I'm not going to preach anything, because I am probably going to be sainted as the Patron Saint of Avoidance Through Substances. But just like the whole eating thing, one day, you're going to start to realize you're not drinking/smoking/toking/using as much as you were previously. That's when you know it is safe to start putting down the bottle/cigarette/bowl/rolled-up bill and step a little further away. And a little further away the next day. And sometime shortly, you will be able to enter civilized company again.

If you're finding this is not the case, and in fact, it's getting worse, do what any responsible user would do: have one "safe" person who knows about your problem and who you would feel comfortable having them snap you out of it, and GO TO THEM. Killing yourself is no way to get on with a better life. And plus, though you may feel hurt, there are so many other people who care about you. I bet you anything, that even if you are unlucky in love, you are incredibly blessed with amazing friends who would do nearly anything for you. I know I am. And most of the time, that unconditional love is even better than regular sex.
...Ok, so that may be a total lie, but, you know what I mean. It's more important.
......Or...ok, I just can't win this one.

Crazy-Bitch Behavior, And Why You Shouldn't Be Doing It: You may want to make a grand gesture. Usually, a pretty crazy grand gesture. But here's the problem: if you want to maintain any sense of decorum or civility with your ex S.O, you can't. No showing up on doorsteps. No beating other women up. No really pissed-off tirades or messages or letters or blog posts. Be a Big Girl. It's such a Catch-22, I know-- you really want to do something to let you blow off all that steam inside, but you'd be best off getting it out sometime when you're really not into the guy or outcome or friendship, anyway. This is what your friends are for. Swear them to secrecy, bug the fuck out, and be done with it. (Also, make them swear up, down, and sideways over your dead body or the closest bottle of their favorite beer not to send any angry letters of their own. Because having scary friends is no way to Win Friends And Influence People. Or ever have your friend and the person who recieved said Angry Letter in the same 20 foot radius ever again. Even though your friend's heart may be in exactly the right place. Make your judgement call.)

Re-Assess Your Situation-- Who Are You, and What Do You Want: Speaking of, by this point in your life, you shouldn't be with anyone who you feel like you're settling for or are apathetic about. You should be with someone who you can be totally, one-hundred-percent yourself around. You should be able to talk to them about whatever you want, and even crack horrendous jokes during foreplay without a second thought. You should not be compromising one iota for anyone else. You should not be afraid to say "this is what I like" and "this is what I don't like." You should know yourself pretty well by now, and if you don't, you should be figuring that out.

I know this sounds much easier said than done, but when you find it, you'll just know it, I promise you-- no games, no worries.

Personally, I am taking my semester abroad in Florence as a self-discovery field-trip. I can already tell you it's going to make me more independent, more confident, and more adept at expressing myself. Whatever else I learn while over there is going to be the surprise. But mostly, it's about getting away to find out who, exactly, I am. Not just who I am in the mirror, what music I listen to, what I like to eat, what I'm not a fan of doing, but what makes me come alive. What makes me scared, and how I can get over it. What I refuse to let go of. What I need to learn to admit to. And where I want to be, physically and theoretically.

What You SHOULD Be Doing: Full Disclosure: I am writing this to you in a massive Princeton hoodie, leggings, and slippers. I haven't showered yet. I haven't eaten yet. In fact, I woke up at 11 AM. Coping comes in all different guises. But what I can tell you is that right now, I am starting to get hungry for some toast. I'm planning on getting dressed to go into town and mail out some paperwork this afternoon. And I'm looking forward to a midnight Jacuzzi tonight.

It's little steps. Get out of bed. Get dressed. Go places. Keep yourself occupied. Take the time to be selfish and do what you like. Do what you want. Make no excuses. This time is about YOU. It's not about being nice or even charitable to whoever makes you feel less than stellar at the moment. The first step to surviving is to recognize what you need. Do so. Follow through. Don't rest until you get there.

A Note to Fellow Writers: I actually found this nugget in the most unlikely of places-- in one of my freshmen year textbooks from "Introduction to Professional Writing." Ariel Gore, author of "How To Become A Famous Writer Before You're Dead: Your Words in Print and Your Name in Lights," devotes a section of the first chapter to heartbreak. And no, I'm not shitting you, I found this is a required course book. This is what she says:

"When bad things happen to writers, there's always the silver glimmer of a good story. Damn, we think when we're facedown on the rain-wet pavement, nose broken and bleeding, coughing betrayal. This is gonna make a great story...Every time you expose yourself to annihilation, you come that much closer to grasping all that is indestructible in a soulful human being" (Gore, 31-32).

I bolded that last segment because I think that's the part you should focus on. Yeah, you may get a great story out of it, which, I have to admit, is the crutch that most writers and poets fall back on with biting black humor, or, like I do, get some cathartic writing out of it, but more than anything, the fact is that through the writing process after a big spill, you learn more about yourself, and what you really need. Seriously. Sit down with a notebook and some paper and start some stream-of-consciousness writing about what happened. You'll be amazed at what comes out of you: things you never said, things you did say, things you barely consciously remember, things you're writing down because you never want to forget, things you didn't know you had to say. And maybe, somewhere in that lovely chaotic mess (because I am a big fan of chaos), you may find exactly what it was you were looking for all along. Maybe it's an answer. Maybe it's a cold, hard fact. Maybe it's a new revelation about yourself. Maybe, it's where your soul really lies.

...So I took all day to write all that, and then thought...

That's kinda bullshit.

I mean, what is the most important thing right now? What is really resonating with me? It's not the fact I haven't eaten a square meal in a week. I couldn't care less. It's not the fact that I'm feeling a little like a schlub. I'm home; the cats are the only ones who can judge me, and they do that silently. And yeah, I'd really like to help other people out in the same spot I am right now, but that's not why I'm writing. It's the fact that I was rocked pretty hard. And how?

I find, usually, that the best thing that I can do when I'm stumped is to find someone else's creative content, in a similar vein to that I am working through, and watch, read, or experience it, completely open to interpretation. Sometimes, something jumps out. Sometimes, I get hit with a blinding flash of the obvious. And sometimes, I have to go through it a few times before I really get it. (Hello, "Dazed and Confused". Both the movie, and what it rendered me.) I've been watching the movie "The Women" a lot recently. Adapted from the 1936 play by Clare Boothe Luce, it features an all-star women cast (Meg Ryan, Annette Bening, Candice Bergin, Bette Midler,) directed by Diane English, and focuses around the relationships between friends, mothers, daughters, wives, mistresses, and how they all intermingle in life.

The first night I watched it, I was completely raw. It was not a great experience. It hit a little too close to home and basically reduced me to a lump of nerves and totally withdrawn thoughts on the couch. That was the first night I thought, "Am I allowed to be angry about this? Can I really put aside the idea that I am supposed to be A Big Person and Do The Rational And Accommodating Thing for a moment and just...feel this?" So I did. I opened myself right the fuck up and got righteously angry.

But anger doesn't get you very far. This is not to say that you shouldn't let yourself get angry. There are some things absolutely worth getting angry over. Let me be the first to say-- there is nothing quite like those first initial five minutes after you reach a realization or see something totally upsetting in which you fume and rage and stomp around and shriek like a banshee, but you get spent very, very easily. And sometime, when you're lying there, as low as the floorboards can get, you think, "Is this really worth it? Is it really worth this emotional strain? I mean, past is past. Done is done. Don't you think you should be...I don't know...doing something instead of just lying here and being vaguely pathetic?"

This is when you ask yourself the two things that reverberated with me in "The Women":

"I've spent my entire life trying to be everything to everyone, and somehow, someone is always disappointed."

"Don't give a shit about anybody. Be selfish. Because you have to ask yourself a question: What about ME? ...I mean, after all, who are you? What do you want?"

I can't answer that for myself right now. Maybe that's the problem. On one hand, I know I never want to go through a repeat of what happened, but on the other, it's giving me the questions that I'm grappling with every day to reach on consensus on: "How forgiving am I? How much does it really mean to me? Where will I bend? Where will I break? And what do I now feel? And if you can do that, I should be smart enough to let you walk away."

You have to know the answers to those questions before you throw your lot in with someone else.

You do not have to be Wonder Woman. I give you the permission to be as completely human, and therefore, as completely imperfect and flawed and selfish as you need to be in finding those answers for yourself. That's as imperfect and flawed and selfish as you need to be, not want to be.

I once heard a young woman described as "ferocious" by one of her ex-professors in regard to going after what she wanted. That's what I want to be: ferocious. I want to be someone to be reckoned with. I want to be someone that you would not even think about crossing. And I don't ever want to be in this situation of not knowing, ever again. That's what I want most: a firm stance on what I want.

XOXO

[Fabulous photo credit goes to Edahn at http://www.askedahn.com/. Check that site out for some right-on advice.]