Posts Tagged ‘Observations’

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8 Lessons I wish I had learned already

Friday, June 4th, 2010

This post was originally called ‘Shit I wish I could stop doing’ but I thought better of it. This is a list of mistakes I seem to keep making. Again and again and again. Sometimes despite being aware that it is an issue!

  1. Self awareness isn’t instinct. Not everybody analyses their thoughts and behaviors. For me to assume everybody knows why they are doing what they are doing is a recipe for trouble.
  2. Test, prepare, have a run through. Don’t use a new recipe for an important occasion. If you must use a new recipe then test it first or have enough ingredients for a second run if the first needs serious tweaking (if icing can’t hide the atrocity).
  3. I should not have to apologise for who I am. No explanation necessary, lets just say that again. I should not have to apologise for who I am.
  4. Make an end date. Whatever the arrangement, build in an end date or at least a review date. We get comfortable with discomfort rather quickly, an opportunity, and impetus, to re-assess is important.
  5. If it needs to be said, say it. Holding back for fear of hurting someone else, will probably hurt you. Say it with love and not anger, but say it. The compassionate thing to yourself (and the other in the long run) is to speak up.
  6. Guilt serves no-one. Least of all you. Guilt arises in 2 situations; 1) you have done something you don’t agree with. This is simple to rectify – apologise and make amends. 2) you are taking responsibility for somebody’s feelings (hurt, anger). The answer here is get over it! You are never responsible for how another feels. That is their shit, let them deal with it.
  7. Downtime isn’t optional. Balance reigns supreme. Not necessarily on a daily basis, but in the long run you either rest as hard as you work, or you will be forced to stop by something beyond yourself.

What do you wish you had learned already?

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Dinosaurs beware! The feminists are coming.

Monday, May 17th, 2010

Men, heroes, archetypally go out in the world and take on dragons, armies, pirates, rescue damsels, explore foreign lands, build empires, and launch crusades. It is the way of the hero, the masculine, to learn and grow through external challenges.

Women, heroines, archetypically heal the sick, create life, nurture, love, celebrate and teach. It is the way of the heroine to learn and grow through personal challenges, issues of relationship and of the heart.

Masculine energy finds its greatness by breaking free of the everyday while feminine energy manifests its greatness by fully connecting to the everyday and the divinity to be found there.

I am not to say that a woman’s place is gathered around the hearth and the man’s is to be out hunting and exploring the wider world. Such a simplistic conclusion assumes that a woman is totally feminine and a man solely masculine. Each of is has an intricate mix of both energies. We are each masculine and feminine, ying and yang. Which is why it insults all of us when the feminine attributes of humanity are disrespected.

Feminism should never have been about giving women the opportunity to prove that they could be heroes and do what men do best, just as well as men. Unfortunately, however we had to combat the erroneous assumption that women were both different to and lesser than our male counterparts. Now that it is [mostly] recognised that women and men are equal it is time to move on to the real role of feminism; equal recognition, respect and reverence for feminine attributes, roles, decisions, contributions, stories and perspectives.

So to those people who still believe raising children is less important than spending 8 hours a day in an office cubical – you are a dinosaur. The face of feminism is changing. No longer are women who rally and burn their bras the iconic feminists. Today feminists are just as likely men as women and they effect change on a personal level, one person, company or situation at a time. Dinosaurs beware! The feminists are coming.

*Photo credit

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Posted in Femininity, The unspoken, Womanhood | 2 Comments »

Home

Wednesday, April 21st, 2010

Home can mean so many things. It can mean our physical residence, our city, our country. Something can smell like home, feel like home, sound like home. We can consider a person to constitute our home. Our home could be where we were born or raised. The ‘home team’ doesn’t mean the members all live at the field/ground. Yet I feel ‘at home’ at my girlfriend’s place and don’t often admit how ‘at home’ I feel in the kitchen.

Have your ever found yourself saying ‘I am going home for the weekend’ in reference to your parent’s house. Only to turn around and and announce your departure from their home by saying ‘Alright, I think we should be heading home now’? I know I have.

Home is a feeling. A safety. An acceptance. Home is familiar and comfortable. Home is nice. We are always welcome at home.


My son understands this concept better than most adults. Being a toddler his world revolves around safe, comfortable places. Home is the thing he understands best. Yet he can feel totally at home in an alien place, so long as the right people and objects are with him (the real reason for a baby bag). Home is like his bar (yes, you remember tip) he asks to ‘go home now’ when he is tired of where he is. He tells me that loved ones have ‘gone home’ as soon as we close the front door after a farewell. And often for hours, days and even weeks after that. But reassures me that they will ‘come home soon’ – meaning our home.

Our place really is like that. It is a space where people take their shoes off, not because I am precious about dirt. That is laughable. They take their shoes off (or so I hope) because they know they will curl up on our couch with a coffee or a beer. They often help themselves to said coffee and beer, too! If the proverbial shit hit the fan, I know some of our friends would be comfortable here. They would crave their things, autonomy and the space their own home affords, but I like to think they wouldn’t miss the feeling of a home.

I know I am home when I smell the sea breeze, or feel my over-sized glass teacup in my hands. I feel like I am home when I smell my husbands cologne when my head is resting against his chest in a hug. I feel like home when my son is cuddled up in my arms. I feel like I am home when I see my kitchen bench. I feel at home in jeans.

What feels like home to you?

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Posted in Grace, Life | No Comments »

Lets talk about … My fine line

Tuesday, April 13th, 2010

There is a fine line, at least in my pretty little head, between submitting to someone else’s will and choosing to find happiness in someone else’s happiness.

You might need to read that one again. It is a really, really, fine line.

This is a really complicated issue. At least for me. The concept of submitting to the will of another is abhorrent to me. It makes my blood run cold and every single cell in my body rebels against it. As a woman especially, I harks back to millennia of women without an avenue to exercise their own will. Similarly though the concept of finding happiness in someone else’s happiness reeks of the feminine mystique, of 1850′s housewives socially trapped into living only for their husband’s and children.

The key here, I guess, is choice. Choice is what we have been fighting for, isn’t it? Somehow some choices still seem to betray myself, my gender. The difference between an enlightened, empowered choice and a choice that flies in the face of my freedoms and rights? Awareness.

Conscious choice makes all the difference. Conscious choice is the only thing that makes the life of a modern wife and stay at home mother different to that of her 1950′s counterpart. I am choosing fulfillment in my role as domestic goddess. They had no other option.

I chose to marry because it was important to my husband. Not out of fear. I chose to remain at home raising my son, because it is honestly the hardest, toughest, most fulfilling thing I have ever undertaken. And I don’t back away from a challenge. What makes my choices, in my mind, revolutionary and rebellious and empowered is that I am aware of every choice I make. I put my life under the microscope and analyse who I am in the face of my freedoms and choices.

I walk a fine line. My priorities and daily tasks are essentially for my family. My self inquiry, my honesty with (and about) what goes on for me in my heart and head in response to this, that is my saving grace. Conscious choice is the difference between oppressed and living breathing empowerment.

I bet I am not the only woman steadily walking this line. What lines do you walk?

(excuse the late post, I am trying a new parenting style today and it is labor intensive.)

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Posted in Balance, Femininity, Grace, Life, Marriage, Motherhood, The unspoken, Womanhood | 2 Comments »

What I’m not

Monday, April 12th, 2010

Some of my favorite bloggers posted recently what they are not. They both happen to be interesting authentic women who are in the ‘must read’ section of my reader for a reason. Go check them out.

I am not the tidiest person. My house will be presentable when people arrive (unless I consider you family, in which case I am liable to throw the tea towel at you to wipe while I wash) but my kitchen bench is my achillies heel. Well that and the kitchen sink (I tried to have it shined every night before bed last year… didn’t work for me) and the laundry. Oh, and the baby toys. AND our shoes tossed in a messy heap by the door. You get the picture.

I am not a trend whore. You will see classic cuts, plenty of jeans (I own about 6 pairs and wear 3 pretty much every week), jackets, t-shirts and blouses, dresses, almost everything A-line and empire wasted in my closet. A million scarves, too. I love scarves. You won’t find any hoodies, ‘fierce’ shoes, neon, shoulder pads, miniskirts/dresses.

I am not afraid of speaking up. Sometimes, more so these days than before, I bite my tongue. Not because I am afraid of confrontation. Few people do confrontation as well as I do. I know I will be fine. I just hate the fall-out, the moodiness, the cold shoulder, the bullshit.

I am not a fan of antipasto or beer. Olives and capers and beer. YUCK! The thought of these, let alone the smell is enough to turn my stomach. Needless to say these are 3 of my husband’s favourite things.

I am not at peace with the idea of being married. I know, I know. I am crazy. An idealist and a feminist to a fault. I get it. But still my inner suffragette and my inner rebel still hate the idea. I’ll let you know when they quieten. I’m not holding my breath though.

I am not scared of ugliness. Not scared of mine. Not scared of yours. I’m not afraid of people discovering the black muck that lurks in the corners of my psyche. It is one of the best ice breakers and the quickest way to a deep and meaningful discussion – my favourite kind.

Despite living spitting distance from the beach, I am not a beach goddess. I never had the body for it and I hate the sand getting everywhere it doesn’t belong. Namely inside my swimming costume. I hate it when the sand is so hot it burns and yet i can’t stand it when it gets chilly or a wind blows sand on my towel. On the other hand give me the mountains any day. Mountain air fills my lungs and unlocks my soul.

I am not the jealous type. Never have been. If who I am and how I make him feel isn’t enough to keep him, then he is free to leave. If he finds a woman better at supporting his dreams and his schedule, similarly, I will be throwing rice at the wedding. I point out beautiful women I know he will appreciate. I am not insecure about him talking to other women in a bar. I don’t envy other women. I know from seeing clients that the most successful, beautiful, driven women have demons big enough to balance out the bliss in their lives.

I am not against cooking every day. I actually aspire to cook something, anything, every single day. I feel connected to the people I love and the circle of life when I am lovingly preparing a meal for them from fresh ingredients. I don’t use packet mixes, boxed cake mix or  sauces in a jar. They have their place, but I have the time and inclination to make my own. I could never, ever go back to chocolate topping from a bottle.

As I am typing my husband and son and throwing their 2 cents worth at me, so this could clearly become an essay or a series lol. But I think this is enough.

What at you not?

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Posted in Blogging, Life | 3 Comments »

Lets talk about…sexiness

Friday, April 9th, 2010

A few weeks back, on my hens’ night I witnessed a phenomenon I am only just beginning to grasp. Walking ahead of me (up the enormous hill that is William Street, Sydney) were 3 mid-20something happily coupled women. They were laughing, confident, natural and oozing sex appeal. While they passed scantily clad teenagers, it hit me. I think for a moment I saw what men see.

I remember watching an interview with Naomi Watts where she mentioned that she felt unattractive as a young woman. In her late 20′s her cheekbones ‘arrived’ and she came into her beauty. I think Naomi’s experience about coming into her attractiveness in her late 20′s is more typical than we like to admit. Until we, as women, accept our bodies and own our sexuality we are merely teenagers playing dress up. And it wasn’t until  saw the two extremes juxtaposed on William St that night that this truth really became evident to me.

This is a post I would not have been able to write a few years ago for fear of earning the immature label ‘Lezo’. But the things that make a woman sexy have absolutely nothing to do with the shape or size of her body. Her hair colour or style makes no difference. Her clothes have far less importance than we like to think as well. These things merely catch the eye. What makes a man stare, smile, fantasise about a woman is… ineffable.


What makes a woman sexy cannot be bought. No cream, wonder bra, shaping underwear, surgery, stiletto, hair style or dress has the capacity to make a woman sexy. Sexy is certainly paid for. Sexy is the result of living with gusto. Of putting yourself out  there. Of trying new things. Of a life well lived and a self actualised. Experience is sexy. Experience comes at a price – tears, pain, failure, change, growth.

What makes a woman sexy is behind her eyes. It is the promise of a woman who can stand toe to toe with a man and make him moan without lifting a finger. You must know pain to understand that kind of pleasure. You must know longing to conjure that depth of desire. You must be capable of ugliness to be that beautiful. You must have lost yourself somewhere along the way to own your self that completely.

That night, a few weeks back we were goddesses in motion. Men were magnetised to our sides. Flocked to our table. Fought for a glance. We were playful and open and owned our selves. We bought and paid for our own drinks. Oh and handed out little red heart lollipops. (The tackiness of this gesture offset by the dept of character of the women dolling out the sweets, perfectly aware of the irony.)

I found it life affirming to see that men evidentially agreed with my mantra for the year (maybe longer):

Healthy is Beautiful ~ Happiness is Sexy ~ Soulful is Irresistable

*photo credit

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Posted in Body Image, Femininity, Grace, Sex, The unspoken, Womanhood | No Comments »

Lets talk about… body modification

Monday, March 15th, 2010

This is such a wide and diverse topic. Controversial. Like boiling a frog we are comfortable with the gentle cooler manifestations of the practice, but are we in danger of boiling alive as the accepted mutilations become more extreme?

Body modification is defined as the deliberate altering of the human body for non-medical reasons, such as sexual enhancement, a rite of passage, aesthetic reasons or self-expression.

Most of us think of female genital mutilation or facial piercing when we think of body modification. But these are only the more extreme manifestations of a sliding scale. Cutting our hair and piercing our ears don’t really register as body modification, but indeed they are. The list of body modifications the ‘regular’ western woman may willfully undergo, many on a regular basis, is huge:

  1. Hair cut
  2. Hair perm
  3. Hair straightening
  4. Hair colouring
  5. Eyebrow shape
  6. Underarm hair removal
  7. Leg hair removal
  8. Pubic hair removal
  9. Arm/face hair removal
  10. Manicure
  11. Pedicure
  12. Tanning/ Melanin pills
  13. Ear piercing
  14. Belly piercing
  15. Tattooing
  16. Breast implants/Breast lift
  17. Tummy tuck
  18. Liposuction
  19. Botox
  20. Tattooed makeup

I know I am ‘guilty’ of a number of the above. I don’t know a woman who isn’t. Even my grandma vainly perms her hair and during the second world war stained her legs to mimic the appearance of her absent stockings. We do these things of our own volition - willingly following the conventions of our culture. Endlessly making ourselves more attractive to our desired mates. Continually pandering to, for the most part, the male gaze.

We do it to feel beautiful, often without thought as to why these arbitrary characteristics are deemed beautiful. Why is it that perky breasts, shaven armpits and pubic mounds are beautiful when they effectively rob a woman of her womanhood and visually return her to the realm of a child. Are women more attractive when they appear less fertile, less powerful?

We do it because it is what women do, unaware of the point when we made the decision that these standards are sufficiently important they are worth painfully or permanently altering our bodies to achieve them. How is this forgotten decision any different from mothers in Cameroon who Iron their pubescent daughters’ breasts with hot stones? Or the 2 million mothers world-wide who help hold down their daughters as their clitoris is removed, by way of an initiation into womanhood and to curb their sexual desires (often with no anesthetic).

Yes these are extreme, but the recent internal bra (soon to become a part of a breast lift) is equally as painful and unnecessary. It is only more palatable to our delicate sensibilities because it is performed by doctors in hospitals on consenting adults.

My question is this: If clitorises were removed, in the pristine theater of a renown plastic surgeon, would we find it any less offensive?

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THE Wait

Wednesday, February 24th, 2010

I hate it. You probably do too. I think I hate the wait more than the requisite pissing on the stick. You know the wait I am talking about. It is the oh-god-I-think-my-life-might-change-in-a-millisecond-once-this-5-minute-wait-is-up wait. If you are a sexually active woman, you have probably experienced this wait at least once. I mean, no contraception is foolproof, right?

Patience really isn’t one of my virtues. Dealing with whatever happens, when it happens I’m great at. It is the damned limbo style wait between the ‘Hmmm something isn’t right here’ feeling and the little blue line appearing, or not, that I don’t cope well with. I find this wait utterly excruciating. I mean I only ever experience this wait IF:

  1. My period is absent
  2. I am feeling ‘off’ AND
  3. My body is doing something else weird like say making my breasts super tender or falling asleep in the middle of the day for no reason at all AND
  4. I have suffered the indignity squatting over the toilet trying to catch my suitably concentrated urine in a cup or on a teeny-tiny super absorbent strip

Worse than the list of crap that actually goes into making you consider the possibility that you might be pregnant (whether this is a shocking surprise or eagerly awaited news) your life flashes before your eyes in those 5 minutes in a way that the potential baby-daddy can never imagine. He doesn’t think about stretch marks and mentally say goodbye to his body ( a survey found that 86% of new mums felt more attractive before pregnancy than after), he doesn’t immediately panic about his career, cringe at the thousands of nappies he might have to change or lament the nights out he will miss and the alcohol he will have to abstain from. His life gets more complicated but, generally, also more respected. Other than the potential changes to his sex life (which I guarantee you he isn’t thinking about yet) he skips out on most of the sacrifice.

Being that I am one child down and one child to go in my childbearing plans, I expect that I will experience this wait again many a time. (A prospect I am only willing to face because I know how amazing motherhood can be.) To those who experience the dreaded wait only to find the test negative, my advice is to have a drink. Have a few actually to wash down the sushi and soft cheese you will be eating before you do something physical like paint-ball or rock-climbing, then have a great nights sleep and a sleep-in followed by a double espresso. You may not know it yet, but you will miss these when the line does go blue.

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Posted in Body Image, Femininity, Grace, Life, Motherhood, The unspoken, Womanhood | 1 Comment »

Lets talk about…Housework

Sunday, February 21st, 2010

Ironic that of all the unspoken ‘women’s business’ to discuss I begin with one of the backbones of the Feminine  Mystique. I can see the eyes roll – she thinks housework is more important to discuss than maternity leave?!? You may think that housework is not a real issue for women these days.  Well, the research says otherwise. Somehow housework as made it onto the list of things that aren’t discussed and our relationship to our domestic chores have gone largely unexamined.

Did you know that in a recent study women responded that 24% of all arguments with their live-in significant other are about housework? Did you know that multiple studies have shown that the level of love, affection and equitable division of household chores is the single best indicator of whether a committed woman will feel satisfied in her relationship?* And after 7 years of marriage those couples with high levels of egalitarianism also had high levels of sexual desire.**

So whilst housework itself might not be important, happy relationships and sexual fulfillment are. As corny as it sounds every new mother knows the easiest way into her pants is by doing the dishes and every smart man knows he has far more chance of a happy woman when he isn’t leaving his shit around and not lifting a finger to help. I am not saying that household chores need to be divided down the middle. I know a lot of households where that simply wouldn’t work. I also know a few women who, by choice or necessity, have help around the house. Ironically, justifying and accepting domestic help was difficult for these women (and not their partner’s).

I know the state of my house, be that immaculate or not, has a direct effect on how I feel about myself as a woman. Crazy I know, but it’s true. I will actually race around and tidy the baby’s toys when I get the call that surprise company will be arriving in 10 minutes, as opposed to putting on makeup. That doesn’t sound right to me, but I just can’t help it. I feel more affection for my partner when he is tidying the kitchen or ironing (and that isn’t just because I ruin everything I iron).

I am not advocating any particular arrangement or judging how anybody keeps their house in order (or not). I just think it is about time that we put housework back on the agenda. So, what is your domestic experience? How have you tackled housework in your life? Do your domestic duties hold you back? Do you feel judged by the state of your house? Are you happily house-proud? Do you judge your girlfriends by how tidy their place is when you drop over? I would love to hear your thoughts.

* ** Sexual Satisfaction in Committed Relationships

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The laundry list of unspoken topics

Thursday, February 18th, 2010

By nature these experiences fly in the face of the accepted bounds of womanhood. They aren’t expected of the innocent maiden, the loving wife or the nurturing mother. And let’s face it, society at large still has some difficulty dealing with femininity outside of those roles. These experiences have often been ascribed to the ‘undesirable’ facets of womanhood; the unmarried, the lecherous, the wild and the mysteries of our reproductive organs. In reality making these experiences taboo or unspoken is destructive, riddling our female psyche with guilt, shame, inadequacy and fear.

So in the interest of catharsis, inspired by a few honest and relieving conversations recently with my girlfriends, here are some experiences I think belong in a guide-book for women;

  1. Foreplay isn’t optional.
  2. Masturbation isn’t wrong. Getting to know what feels good is incredibly important.
  3. Using a vibrator too often can actually desensitise you to orgasm with a real penis.
  4. Watching porn isn’t just for guys. Well maybe porn is, erotica isn’t.
  5. Despite the foreplay and knowing what feels good, sometimes your juices simply wont flow. And that’s ok.
  6. You may hate your period, but trust me you will miss it when it is gone.
  7. Breasts can leak. And not only when you are pregnant or breastfeeding.
  8. Rape is never, ever your fault.
  9. Your body and emotions are intricately linked. Emotions (and the hormones they release) change your skin, hair, breasts, vagina and more.
  10. Many women get very amorous during their period.
  11. Just because you are in a relationship doesn’t mean you aren’t attracted to people other than your partner.
  12. As wild as your youth is, you probably wont regret it as you get older.
  13. Women have a ‘hens’ or ‘bachelotette’ party for a reason; it is scary to think of farewelling your singledom and loving only one person forever more.
  14. It takes work to keep the fire alive in a long-term relationship.
  15. Labour can be a sensual experience, some woman reach orgasm giving birth.
  16. Labour involves blood, a number of people looking closely at and physically inspecting your vagina.
  17. Motherhood doesn’t automatically bestow infinite patience.
  18. Bonding isn’t instant. It is a process. Postnatal depression isn’t a choice or your fault.
  19. Breastfeeding isn’t always easy and bottle-feeding isn’t wrong.
  20. Breastfeeding in public is simply feeding a child. Nothing more, nothing less.
  21. Sometime mothers resent, dislike and tire of their children.
  22. Sometimes mothers love one child more than the other/s.
  23. It isn’t easy to consistently put the needs of a child before your own. At times it is soul crushing and gut wrenching.
  24. Peri-menopause typically lasts 7 to 10 years. So can post-menopause. It can be a 15 year ride ladies!
  25. Menopause is supposedly the single day where you haven’t had a period of 12 months.  Sometimes your cycle will resume even after a break of more than a year.
  26. Menopause can actually cause ‘shrinkage’ of the vulvar and vagina, which can lead to painful sex.
  27. The first thing the Dr will ask you when you go to see them about menopause is “tell me about your mother’s experience…” So… go talk to your Mum!
  28. After Menopause your vagina is considered a ‘use it or lose it’ situation. Sex increases blood flow to the area and keeps your vagina healthy, and boots your immune system.

So what have I forgotten? What do you wish was talked about before you discovered it the hard way?? I would love to hear your experience.

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Posted in Femininity, Grace, Life, Motherhood, Personal Development, Relationships, The unspoken, Womanhood | 4 Comments »

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