It’s my BFF’s birthday next week, and I’m considering buying her a perfume. Because a woman is not dressed until she has on perfume. Perfumes react differently on different skins, but needs must, I will have to go with a good, safe choice. Any suggestions? Do you have a favorite? Estée Lauder beautiful? D&G light blue? Chanel coco? Chanel no. 5? (And don’t worry she doesn’t read my blog!)
Tag Blog
Women, Arise!
I went to a single-sex school with all of our teachers being female. I studied a predominantly male course, but all my peers were very respectful towards me. I was never treated like an object. I started work, and the same applied. Perhaps I had very strong boundaries that helped. I would not have tolerated anything less. I dressed modestly, and perhaps my conservativism showed.
Until I reached my mid-thirties, and my babies were born. Something changed. I had a monster of all crushes on someone close by, and knew my conservative attire would not turn any heads. And especially not his. I wanted attention! So I did what I could do. Aka Sandy in Grease. I changed my style. I started wearing more low cut tops. More tight-fitting jeans. And I started to see a reaction. I started getting attention. It was an attention I had never really experienced before. And it felt good. It fed my flesh. I wanted more. The outward appearance started to count. And with it the objectification. I received the attention I wanted. A paradigm-shift happened. Men would wink as they passed by. I started accepting compliments based on my outward appearance. I started lowering my standards. Accepting bad behavior.
All these things came up for me when I heard Michelle Obama, and her watershed speech this past week. I am not an object. My daughter is not an object. Women are not objects. I don’t have a vote in the US elections. But I do have a vote in my own life. I can vote when I hear how perfect my ‘ass’ is in that red dress. When I am objectified. I don’t have to smile and say thank you. I can call it out for what it is. And I can say No.
Omigosh!
Two years ago I was posting to Facebook, being all excited about writing and being really weird. Facebook sends me notifications everyday of ‘this day in the past’. This morning I was horrified to see my weird posts from two years ago. Omigosh, all I can say is thank you to WordPress readers who have been reading me for two years. Some of my early WordPress posts have been just as weird. I’m feeling somewhat embarrassed about my over-the-top, clumsy and strange Facebook and blogging posts. That’s the thing about writing and blogging. We start at a certain point, and then we begin to grow. Evolve. It’s interesting and sometimes a bit scary to look back and see how we were then, and how we are now. I started blogging as a challenge. Because I wanted to write. I discovered I love writing. And poetry! Poetry is awesome.
Life-Changer
Today I came across a man wearing a thick heavy silver chain necklace. In the instant that I noticed it, I was reminded of an old manager of mine. He offered me a job when I was 22, and had recently lost my mother. He used to wear a thick gold bracelet. It stood out in my mind quite significantly. It was a random observation though. What stands out more for me was that he was very kind to me.
My very first job was as a graduate at IBM. I hated it. As soon as my mother passed away I gave myself permission to leave. I left without having anothe job lined up, and I didn’t care. During my first week of unemployment I started with temp office work. By the third week in I was bored. And so I went on a few coding interviews.
On the Friday afternoon I received a phone call. The job offer was mine! And I was being offered a higher salary than I had been earning at IBM. Win! I started on the 1 Sept 1996, exactly one month after leaving IBM.
I loved that job. I was part of a team. I belonged. It was wonderful. The work was interesting, as well as challenging too. Our team was disbanded twenty months later. But for that short time, it was a life-changer.
Pictured above, sitting on the right. My manager was second from the left. I was happy when that photo was taken.
Theme Update
Omigosh, I started playing around with themes, and now my old theme is gone! And I can’t get it back. So Passion Through Poetry, in anticipation of its third birthday, has a new theme. Thank you for reading my poetry, and all your wonderful friendships.
I am Okay
My late mil (mother-in-law) often used to start her sentences with ‘the main thing is’. Followed by what the main thing would be for that particular day.
A few years back I went through an experience that broke me. My children were both young, my daughter was one year and a bit. My husband was on a contract in Melbourne, and I was alone with my children in Johannesburg. I was alone.
I went through an experience that broke my soul. That changed how I think about things. How I see the world and people. And left me with a wound. On a deeper, more spiritual level. I was left floundering, pained, hurt, wounded.
I am still trying to heal that wound. I am still seeking validation outside of me. I am still looking to others to validate me. And I realized today I don’t need others to validate me. I don’t need to look outside myself. I don’t need to fulfill the expectations that others might have of me. I don’t need to fill shoes that others have decided I should fill.
And it so clearly came to mind, the main thing is:
I am me, and I am okay.
Plop
I was so bored this evening with nothing to do, and not feeling like reading or studying for Java 8 exam (because I can), so I just plopped onto my bed and looked at the ceiling for a couple of hours. Every thirty minutes I was able to play candy crush until my lives all died, and had to wait for reset to happen.
Well, that’s been my evening folks, from Sydney, wishing you a good night! Or good day if that works better for you.
Pop quiz: when last did you use the word ‘plop’?
Shopping
Yesterday I had an interesting experience. My son had a pupil-free day, which means he had a day off school. On a Monday, which means I had company. We went shopping. For a pokemon-go voucher. On our way back to the car, I spotted a dress on display, and decided to try it on. The sales assistant did a very good job, and persuaded me to try on two (discount off second purchase). Being protected by seven-day return policy I bought both. Yay, summer!
And then.
Third-degree from my son. How many dresses did I buy? How much did they cost? What about the clothes I wore last week? Those are for winter, I replied. But what about my summer clothes? Those are old season. He wears old season, what’s wrong with mine? Why did I buy something I don’t need. Wow, what is this all about, I eventually had to ask.
Turns out he’s been saving all his pocket money for a new game and is $30 short. And then horror of all horrors, I just walked into a store and bought not one, but two dresses I don’t even need!
Hmm. My husband’s two cents worth afterwards – I was being evaluated by my twelve-year old, and I failed!
Personality
I spent most of last week obsessing. Wishing for a new personality. Wishing I am not the person I am. Why do I not have leadership qualities. Why am I constantly overlooked. Why do I lack self-confidence. Why do I not make friends easily. Why this. Why that. Why blah.
Until I realized. I am. There are people that accept me. There are those that love me. I cannot be anyone, but me. I am not perfect. And neither is anyone! Or as a kind friend mentioned, we are all perfect. Different. And perfect.
Giants or Dodgers?
So this morning we set off on a day of exploration, and as we went on our way we were caught up in the crowds all dressed in orange. They were on the way to one place only, so we made an executive decision. If in Rome do as the Romans do, right? We managed to get four seats in a row, and watched our first ever game of baseball. The weather was bleak so we thought to buy our kids orange Giants sweatshirts. The vendor looked at me strangely when I asked for a kid-sized ‘jumper’ for my daughter. What? A jumper. You want a sweatshirt?, he asked. Yes, please. For her.
And more firsts! Garlic fries, who can say no?
Key question, who to support, Giants or Dodgers?
Poems and Petals 