BE KIND, THAT'S IT

There is a quote, attributed to Plato, which keeps making the rounds on Pinterest which goes: 

Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle.

This thought goes through my mind a lot.  When I realize I am being critical of another person, it comes to me like a mantra.  Of course, then I want to argue with myself that there are battles and there are battles, but that is the point of this mental exercise.

When I read something like this (I am linking the Jezebel article about this because Psychology Today must have pulled the blog post from it's website) I realize that there is a problem with trying to characterize the "battles" other people are fighting.  The writer of an article titled "Female Obesity: It's Not All Her Fault" suggests that obesity in women stems from a lack of male sexual and flirtatious attention. (I am not sure how this relates to lesbian couples, but perhaps he meant a partner, rather than male attention?)

This "relationship counselor"  is looking around the grocery store and sees all these women in their 20"s and 30's he considers obese and then proclaims that they must  not be getting any love from their husbands because otherwise they would magically be slim - or maybe just large because large can still be sexy according to this guy.

He is not the first to attach sexuality to overeating. But usually the shrinks are saying obese women are avoiding their sexuality by making themselves "larger"  and less attractive.  Frequently this is due to rape or molestation.  This PhD is suggesting that if their guy flirted with them and made them feel sexy, that they wouldn't get so fat.

So I have changed my mind.  Even in his effort to feel empathy for women like me, I feel judged by him.  So I am not so fond of that quote anymore.  Be kind is just fine - no further explanation or judgement is necessary.

PASSING GAS THROUGH THE YEARS

When Sex and the City went into syndication with all the juicy bits cut out, I wasn't so sure it would hold up - but I do enjoy coming across it at odd hours when I am looking for something to watch.

There was one episode where Carrie was with Mr. Big and she passed gas. She acted all humiliated and worried that their relationship would suffer because of this slip. That episode bothered me on many levels. First, I am the oldest of 5 kids. We shared one bathroom and came and went without a lot of concern for personal space and modesty. There was one thing that we all teased about and that was "who let one?" Even the parents got in on it.

It was light hearted and it didn't create any phobias about this very human occurrence. One memorable night, my mom jumped up from the couch, charged over to the sliding glass door, backed her fanny out the door and, by the look on her face, saved us all from certain unpleasantness.

So years later when a good friend turned lover told me, as part of his list of reasons we shouldn't see each other any more, that I was uptight and withholding. In what way? He said I never had gas when I was awake, just when I was asleep - so I must be holding it, therefore not being natural with him. I still think I may be the only woman in the world who was broken up with because I didn't fart enough.

I think of him with some frequency now that I am in menopause, because for some reason, menopause sets the gas production into high gear. Now that I am suitably gassy for him - should I give him a call?

TRIPPIN' PROMPT TUESDAY

I had heard about the PromptTuesday posted by San Diego Momma every week and was moved to post this week:

I ask that you write about a trip or an excursion that left you changed in some way. Did you conquer a fear on your trip? Learn something about yourself? Learn something about another person? Break up? Get together? Consider hospital time for the largest walking blister this side of Manhattan?

In May of 1980, I was 3 years out of college and was manager of a restaurant in Oakland. I enjoyed the work but was getting restless. I was searching for my next move. I had done some career counseling and testing at Stanford University which had been pretty inconclusive. I thought I might go to graduate school - maybe law school.

I had been dating around. No major relationships. One of the guys in my life was an old friend from high school who lived in Washington state. We first got together at our 5 year high school reunion, and got together several times a year when he was in town. I am not sure why he heated up a bit on our relationship, but he invited me to go visit him in Washington and "see how we feel about things." So I went.

I cooked him meals, I met his friends, visited the school where he taught and coached football. It was nice, I felt that we were getting along well. So I was floored when, Saturday night after a nice dinner out he said he didn't think we were going to "make it." It seemed like he knew before I got there that he wasn't really serious. I wasn't crushed, but I was not happy.

Sunday morning we decided to go to the store and get picnic stuff and go to the park before I had to go to the airport. It was a bright sunny day, but while we were at the store, huge dark clouds began to roll through. While we were in line, someone said that Mt. St. Helens had erupted and the clouds were ash from the mountain. We got out of line and added to our provisions, checked out and headed back to his place. By that time the ash was not just in the clouds, it was falling everywhere, coating everything. It looked like a very dense fog - but it was dry and puffed up like fine dust when cars drove by.

We turned on the TV and called the airport and it was very clear that I wouldn't be flying out that afternoon - or any time soon. The ash was acidic and grainy and dangerous for engines. We made the best of the awkwardness which had decinded after his pronouncement of the evening before. We were unable to leave the apartment for 2 more days. We drank a lot. I remember sitting on the floor playing one Beatles album after another, singing along. I remember wishing that he hadn't said what he said -that it could have been very romantic.

I flew home a few days dater, applied to law school in San Diego and met the man who would become my husband.