Restless

I’ve been reading some posts recently about family and relationships and how complex and related these two can be while shaping one’s personality. Family dictates relationships. Family is the place where we learn how to treat others, how to behave and how to form social patterns. You represent your family.

It is not only about the spoken and directed instructions, but also about imposed role models. There are things that we inherit and the things that we look at or listen everyday, so those become our behavioral models. We adopt them wanted or not and represent them in our adolescence and later in adulthood.

When the models are bad, you’re bad even if you’re not being aware of it. But you try your best still because someone explained and rooted into you that a certain thing is a good thing.

Looking inside myself I can name all the bad things I have adopted from both of my parents. Some characteristics are disgusting for me and I believe that others can see them very well. I’m afraid of it.

I think that in my family we’re all living in an illusion. On one side there’s my mother who’s so transparent. She affects only a little. There’s my father on the other who neglects us. A lot.

Talking about role models what I could adopt from him was poor behavior and relation to others, not appreciating anyone in current surrounding or doing it in a very rough way, selfishness as an usual act, no tolerance and underestimating other people, alcohol issues. That’s what he offered to me.

As nothing is black and white, I can only thank him for giving me the money with which I used to live one fine life here, paid my university and vacations, gave me home to live in. But there’s a gap that I can feel between us and it is so dark.

I’ll explain this as a girl. As a feminine confronted by other man, the close one. When I was about eight years old some of the girls in the class had their hair done by lightening hair strands. I asked my mother to do the same for me, so she took one strand and made it lighter. It was nice and I was so happy and proud to have that strand, but my father called me a slut, although I was only eight. That happened in front of my mother so I asked what does that mean and she started an argue. If you ask me that was a mild reaction of my mother since it ended soon and affected my father 0%. Later on I learned the meaning of the word so I can call this my first unfair defeat.

When I was about 12 he got home drunk and beaten me up with a cable for no reason. He broke my glasses. I told that to my mother and then again she made an argue about it. So when he got sober he made one quiet apologize to me and continued to whistle.  Basically, nothing happened to me in a physical manner, although it looks a bit dramatic, but I felt jeopardized inside. I learnt that he can do that just because he want to and it is ok, and it will pass, but I can’t feel free in my own home. Again I lacked mother’s support.

When I was 15 he took my dog away from me because he wanted to. It was a big one, Dalmatiner. The dog was sad and melancholic in our home because no one would walk him. I wanted but he was too strong so I needed help. Besides, he wasn’t vaccinated. Whenever I asked for money for vaccine he’d answer ironically: “well pay it with your own money”. The dog was always locked in his fenced place in the back yard. He was howling and that bothered neighbors. Twice, he managed to get away. Both times we found him, but my father wouldn’t let go of his idea of how the dog should be kept so he put him in a trailer and drove him to countryside and let him go. I was so depressed. He never listened to me and he never wanted us to take care about the dog although he brought him… Month and a half after that the dogcathers found him. They called father first because he’s a vet. They asked if he’d maybe like to take the dog back since it is a quality breed etc. He told them to kill the dog… This makes me sad even today for various reasons. Not only that he didn’t care about my emotions at all but he didn’t care for that dog either, so he just killed him. If he thought he’d never manage to take care of him, he shouldn’t has bought him at first place.

At 21 we shopped together by chance in a local drug market, when he molested a female marketeer in front of me. I was sad and humiliated and felt bad in front of all the people who heard it and saw it. I tried to ask him what was he doing, what is wrong with him when we got out but he just laughed. Later, he made fun of it, of myself and my reaction when we got home…

At the age of 24 I’ve met a boy who I liked at first. But at some point of dating he called me a “gold digger“. I didn’t take it to my heart because I believe you must be quite of an idiot if you call a person you date like that. Soon after that ended I took my Swedish course that autumn, because I wanted to convince myself, beside I liked the language,  that I also have a purpose, that I’m progressing and that I’m good and hard working and that I have a merit. My father’s comment was: ” You’re throwing our money away, it won’t use you, why are you doing it?”. Never mind. I continued doing it for almost two years. At some point in the autumn I was about to go on a friend’s birthday party. It wasn’t that cold although it was October so I wore jeans and jacket and heels. When my father saw me like that he called me “a gold digger”. I’m not sure did he know what that means actually, but  again I felt bad. It is the second time that someone calls me like that, no more no less, but a person who brought me up, who should be my protector and who should teach me how to deal with all those rude comments made by other unknown men, but no, he stepped on their side to call me less worthy, a slut, a person who f***s for money… I felt bad. I was sad and unprotected. My mother drove me to my friend’s house from where we should be heading to a local bar or something like that. I was crying in the front seat. But her reaction again, was indefinite, even awkward. She asked me why am I crying when he meant nothing bad, it’s nothing, he wasn’t serious, those words weren’t as they sound… That wasn’t the only time he called me like that. He did it before. And my other parent never actually acknowledged that and protected me, but she silently accepted it as true…

I’m full of bad experiences in relationships with other men. I’ve never been pretty to anyone, attractive, accepted or smart. Maybe it is true that we seek for our fathers in other men we date. We seek for those characteristics of others that broke us into pieces when we were younger; we want to prove that we are different, that they are wrong, that we are not as they perceive us, that we are good and worthy, we want to heal.

I can’t compensate my bad relationship experiences at home. At home those bad experiences get confirmed and by that mean I get defeated. I am bad, worthless, shameful. Relationship experiences, same as all the other experiences. But why I highlight relationships is because it is the sphere of my life which I somehow can’t conquer, which is unclear to me and full of bad and painful emotions which I can’t explain. People are social animals. We always seek acceptance in each other. It is normal and it is in our nature. We need other people’s support. Those who are close to us. We just need them.

The same thing repeated when I started with my Hungarian language lessons. The father said: “it’s pointless, you’re not smart enough to learn it. I can’t actually see that you’re progressing…”

But I do. I will leave once because my inner self is suffering. I need to protect the kid in me. She’s crying because she’s at her best and again called shameful, offending names by others especially, those who should be on her side. I keep comforting her that she is pretty and smart and good; that she has a big heart and that she is better than all those people who tend to trip her. But still, she can’t be fixed completely. There are things that she’ll bring with herself wherever she goes.

What’s interesting was one dream I’ve been dreaming a lot while I was about 4 or 5. It repeated for years and that’s how I remembered it so well. Beside, it was unpleasant. It kept tormenting me and I couldn’t understand it quite right until recently. It was about my dad and I, we were driving in a car. He parked the car in front of a health center in my town, where there was a small parking lot. We got outside the car when he told me: “Wait for me, I’ll come back for you”. Then he came back in the car and left. I saw him leaving, but it was foggy around me. So I got scared and tried to look up for him and come back home. I was wandering that foggy street. There was no one, it was all cloudy and grey, all the doors and windows were closed, as if it was abandoned. I was still wandering. The scenes kept repeating. There was no one and I was going round and round. And then I’d wake up. It was one of the most unpleasant dreams I’ve ever had and I kept dreaming it over and over again for some time. I would be sad every time I’d wake up. That feeling of being abandoned scared me a lot. Once I told him about the dream, but he laughed at it: “I’d never leave you like that.” So my adult self must laugh to this, in return.

Speaking again about the idea of girls seeking father figures in other men they date scares me. I don’t want someone to disrespects me. I have emotions and I can say or do lot of things. I’m not just someone. At least I wouldn’t like to spend my life beside a person who treats me just as “someone”or even worse. Knowing that this pattern could transfer to my partner life with someone scares me. I don’t want to live life that way. It is awful and sad. I don’t need that kind of relationship neither that kind of person.

 

The jar of fractured minds and myself in it

I already explained my point of view of gender issues through my own egalitarianism which emphasizes the idea of tolerance and comprehension which is sex-unrelated. In other words, there’s no purpose of “you being you” if you’re ignorant enough.

As a pole dancer I perceived the whole new dimension of mind and opened thinking. It is true that people see what they want to see. If there in front of you is a typically covered female  dancer who does stunning and demanding exercise on a pole, what is the first thing you think; how do you see her and what exactly do you see?

This question helped me to get the people and filter my social surrounding. The same pattern could be used concerning tattoos, for example. And of course, free person will never judge other one’s expression. I appreciated a lot when a male would approach me and tell me: “Wow, it must be hard, you must be very strong and enduring.” That’s the person who sees me as an athlete who works hard on it’s strength and elegance and understands the effort which is being put in it in order to lift up my whole body and not just that but also understands your expression of inner self. He sees me as someone who cherishes outer image equal as inner.

In the return I regard them as those who see the talent and persistence before attractive body, which, as a matter of fact, is not the goal, but the bonus…

On the other hand, from time to time I hear rude comments made by typical orthodox Kosovo liberators who see me as an immoral male attention drawer and who knows what else.

The “I-m-a-pole-dancer-test” never failed me. If you want to know them, ask them perceptual questions.

Patriarchy never died. It is changing it’s shape constantly as it’s being misused by many. It causes degradation of both man and women. It is a false idea of a man being supreme and woman being underestimated. In conditions like these, male is taught not to appreciate woman’s needs and personality and at the same time to depend on actions she’s doing in his favour and for him instead doing it by himself. And a women convincing that it is right to listen to instructions how to behave, feel and think in order to be accepted and “treated”. The result is a dysfunctional (grown up) man who doesn’t know how to take care of himself but only to expect of others to do it for him, and socially and emotionally challenged woman with imposed rules taken as something usual, expected and right. Those people will never find themselves and they’ll continue the tradition they’ve been taught is right carrying it over to the next generation of narrow-minded.

It is funny how, patriarchy in the same way as feminism emphasizes superiority of one sex over another. Like it is some kind of self defense mechanism (from what?). By pointing out differences in order to prove them as only truth there is they don’t get that it is one thing they have in common and by itself it makes them – equal.

Juggling hypocrisy

Lately all of us are being bombed with different kinds of propaganda, racism judgments, political rights, women rights, human rights, national identity and somehow people think that they’re defending the right side just because they’re proclaiming certain life standard and so called “moral”.

What made me think of this is an argument I had lately with a group of middle aged women, by my personal estimation old maids, who probably spend their days feeding pigeons, cursing men and comforting themselves that they are probably too good to be true, so that’s why they’re still single and no man can handle them. And many more hidden under term of “women’s rights” and “feminism”.

The comment made by myself which eventually enraged them was about my own idea of sexuality and genders. Of course we were talking about women in army.

In my opinion there are and there always will be crucial differences between men and women which build us in certain ways. Those are not insults. It is just the way we are. What is wrong with male-only professions? Or women-only? Is it humiliating? Is it offending someone?

Speaking of these differences I always like to point up the first and basic thing that was given to us when we were born and that is gender. It is the reason why I am Mary and why Peter is Peter.

When we were grumpy newborns, placed in rows in maternity hospital we were indeed all the same. Bald, ruddy, wrinkled, crying and had no idea at all who we were and what were we doing.

Later on, we got our first teeth, we straightened  up and step by step we walked! By some serious statistics, girls do it earlier than boys. Of course, that means nothing. As we grow we keep playing and fighting. Sometimes girls win. Sometimes they don’t. But anyway, violence is not allowed. We grow, we grow, we grow. At some point, our whole body is full of hormones. We’re changing. We still grow. Girls start getting feminine body shape, tiny waists with wider ties, some describe it as hourglass-shape. On the other hand, boys get taller, their baby-beard is appearing, their jaws are getting bigger and their shoulders wider. They tend to be musculous and tall. Of course, these are not standards. My point is – estrogen does it’s parts of the job to feminine body, same as testosterone does to male’s. Simplified.

I noticed that stress differently affects women and men. In the same stressful situations they react in different ways. While I took part in taekwondo competitions often I saw girls bursting in tears at some point of a fight.  Also, boys never showed that kind of emotion during the same type of activity. They are sometimes bit aggressive and typicaliy revolted. My friend Katherine, who used to take part in those competitions even longer than I have first came up to me with this idea and made me think of it. She told me: “Girls just can’t handle it emotionally”. Can we actually? Yes, there are great feminine athletes and yes, every one is born to make a personal success. But the thing I am trying to bring up to this story is constant sex humiliation and degradation covered by “women’s rights”. Talking about that argument from the beginning, I just mentioned that some professions are better handled by men, and some other by women. And that’s how it is. It doesn’t offend women or men.

War has always been done by men. And so far, they’ve done it very well. Their testosterone provided them huge arms, shoulders and mindset which combined with a bit of practice equals  one fine warrior. On the other hand estrogen makes women’s body fatter especially when emphasising it’s shape which some relate to fertility and also during some typical days of the month when it is bringing out their intensive emotions, which would weaken them in a position of a fighter.

Just because most of women aren’t good warriors and have no interest in war doesn’t make them bad or less worthy. Also some women who actually take part in war actions are not better men than we already have. They are not men at all. And they shouldn’t feel that way. I don’t say that the army is not for women, but I think that men would do it better.

And the thing that I hate the most is when certain women keep degrading all the men under excuse of equality.

There are women who desperately need help, who are molested by their husbands, male co-workers, neighbors etc. And they should be protected. But what I hate is when others who suffer inner problems  use other one’s real misery as their own frustration therapy and mask for their own idiotic attitudes.

If a woman thinks that she’s better than some men, or even worse that all the men are ignorant, clumsy and useless she should keep it to herself and achieve whatever she has to achieve. Also, I feel the same disgust when a man disrespects a woman in the similar way.

There never will be gender equivalence and there never should. What should be there is tolerance. Love me and respect me as a woman and I’ll love you and respect you as a man. The true beauty is in diversity. What an ugly world would it be if we were all the same, with the same bodies, faces, minds.