Feminism: the advocacy of women’s rights on the basis of equality of the sexes.

I feel there is a negative stigma around the term feminism. For some reason, on both sides, there is confusion on what it means to be a feminist. One side thinks feminism is making men less while the other thinks women should be able to say and do what they want without consequences.

So from a non radical, non misandry female here’s what I believe feminism is. Equality equality equality. Not special treatment or lowered standards, equal. For example, if a woman wants to serve in the military and be on the front lines, who the hell says she can’t? If she can meet the physical requirements and wants to serve her country, why should that be devalued? She should also be allowed to serve her country without fear of assault from her fellow soldiers.

I don’t think women should get career advancements just because they’re women, but if they have the same education, same level of experience, same work ethic, etc., they should be given the same pay and same opportunity as men. They should be respected and valued in the work place.

If a woman commits a sex crime, they should be given the same level of punishment as we would give a man. A female teacher sleeping with her student is just as disgusting and wrong as if a male teacher slept with a female student. Same goes for physical abuse. Women shouldn’t get a free pass to assault their partners especially when there is a stigma surrounding men fighting back or letting a woman push them around.

Men should be believed when they say they are raped. Men should be allowed to have emotions. Men should be allowed to be nurturing and caring without being called a pussy. Just like women should be allowed to be tough, hard working, and unapologetic without being called a bitch.

Equal. Good or bad. Fair or unfair. Equal.

By the age of 15 I had lost all 4 of my grandparents. I was fortunate enough to be old enough to have a relationship with my grandmothers and make memories with them. My paternal grandfather passed away when I was 3 and my maternal grandfather passed away long before I was even a thought. Thankfully my parents have been wonderful at telling me stories and pointing out things about my grandfathers. I feel like I see and hear things from people about the disconnect and lack of relationship with the elders in their lives and it kills me. I would give anything to sit down with my grandparents and ask them questions and learn about their lives. I want to tell them about my life, seek their council, just hug them. Our society has a way of isolating the elderly. Forgetting about them. Neglecting them. They have so much to offer. They are the roots our trees come from. So my plea for this week is to go talk to your grandparents, great grandparents, great aunts/uncles. They need you as much as you need them. Our elders deserve honor, respect, and to be cared for. Take the time while you have it.

So today when I was trying to come up with a topic, a friend suggested a guest blog and threw some ideas around and the idea of mothers popped out to me. Whether they are your biological mom or just someone who has been a mother figure to you, we all have these women in our lives. I know I’ve been hitting the women topic hard since I started this blog, and I’ll get to the male inclusive topics, but I have what I call a tribe and it is made up of several outstanding women who have some pretty amazing stories and backgrounds. So I asked them all what is one thing you’ve struggled with as a mother and what is one piece of advice you would give new mothers because I feel like there’s this stigma that moms have to have it put together 24/7 and that they’re alone in what they’re going through. I hope some of you read this and 1. Realize what mothers go through, 2. Know you’re not alone, and 3. Appreciate what your spouse, sister, mother, friends, etc., deal with on the daily.

Keli: One thing I’ve struggled with is taking the time to take care of myself, to make time for me. We always put our kids first and we always exhaust ourselves for them. Granted it’s something we will always struggle with. Piece of advice, don’t be afraid to admit when you need help, when you need someone to help with the kids so you can make that time for yourself.

Marisia: I struggle daily with balancing my depression and anxiety with making sure I spend enough time with the kids and that the interaction they get is meaningful versus forced. Advice for new mom: I would have to say, always remember that no matter what, the baby doesn’t define who you are, the baby happens to be the best part of you and your love. Never lose faith and remember it’s okay to cry, but pick yourself back up and know you got this.

Mariah: I struggle with depression and having my own identity outside of being a mom. The advice I would give is they are not alone. You deserve a break and don’t feel guilty for wanting one but at the same time remember they are only little for a short period of time and one day you will yearn to have these days back. Keep pushing yourself through. Take it day by day and always love and be kind to yourself. Also some people tend to forget that being a mom is one of the most important jobs anyone on this Earth can have. We literally hold the future of our world in our arms every day. Raise them accordingly with that in mind.

Brittany: Probably mom guilt! Not getting everything done, not doing enough, taking time for myself, etc. One piece of advice for a new mom would be to not be too hard on yourself. You are honestly doing the best you can and don’t take peoples judgements too seriously. Everyone has an opinion and they’ll give it freely. But always do what’s best for you and for your baby!

Breanna: The struggle I face as a mom is letting Thomas just cry. I hate hearing him scream his lungs out and it drives me crazy. I always want to hold him but I know he needs to be independent. Any advice I give to mothers it is to walk away for a minute and gain yourself again before attending to the child. Also know your beauty in life don’t let anyone tell you that you are ugly every scar you have is a memory no one else can make. Also if you are feeling depressed after the baby do talk to someone you don’t have to sit on the floor and cry your eyes out thinking no one loves you and that you are alone. You are not alone there is help out there and take it. I honestly don’t think I wouldn’t of been able to make it as far as I did if it wasn’t for my co workers and my family.

So I wrote the below poem after my best friend let his girlfriend remove me from his life. This wasn’t just a best friend. He was my brother. My family. She said he couldn’t be friends with me because I was female and not actually related. So even though he and I had been to hell and back together, I was kicked to the curb. That fall out, put me in a spiral. A bad one. I haven’t shared this poem with many people because I don’t like to dwell on that time. It was like mourning the death of a loved one. BUT it does not last forever so remember whatever dark place you’re in, it’s not real. You are not alone, people do not hate you, and you are not worthless.

The Queen

The war is over and the ally’s have surrendered. Companions who pledged their allegiance and brotherhood to a bond as old as time itself have vanished into the night. A covenant made in the dim lights of bars and dirt road confessions, discarded as if the words “I promise” are scraps of paper used to write the first draft of your life.

It is as if the broken souls find their path veering into the trail of my own destruction. Disappointed truths and fabricated sympathy has left me avoiding alliances. The overwhelming fear of rejection and humiliation is so suffocating that I would rather keep loneliness and isolation as company because at least I can breath.

The layers of self doubt and avoidance encapsulate my soul and flourish with growth at the slightest sign of trouble. The knives removed from my back stand guard around my heart like soldiers guarding their queen, but the queen is lost in her own mental abyss. A dark pool as thick as the skin she has grown from sticks and stones and bricks and bones that were thrown in an attempt to demolish the fortress she has built.

Salvation has become a dwindling thought like the tarnished water that swirls down the drain after you’ve attempted to scrub the darkness off of your face. Salvation has becoming a dissolved version of what used to be as it perishes inside the walls of the stone heart buried inside you. Salvation has become something you whisper to yourself as the darkness fills your mouth and you fade into the blackness that has welcomed you home.

So when I was in the 4th grade puberty started to hit me, pretty hard. By hard I mean, buying junior clothes and kiddy bras were not cutting it. Come 5th grade I got my period and hit a growth spurt. If I recall correctly I was about 5’3 and weighed about 110-120 lbs, which is the ideal weight for someone 5’4 by national standards for adults, but not if your 11. If you saw pictures of me, I wasn’t fat, I wasn’t chubby, I was actually very active but because I didn’t fit the national standards my regular physician had my mom put me on the South Beach diet, which is basically keto. So imagine being 11 years old and being told you can’t have bread, you can’t have fruit or potatoes, and above all the food restrictions that you’re overweight. Soul crushing right? Let the landslide of self esteem issues begin.

As I got a little older, my family had developed the nickname of Ziggy for me. For those of you that have seen Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure should know what I’m talking about, but for those that haven’t let me lay it down for you. In the movie, there is a ice cream shop called Ziggy Piggy’s. If you ask my mom, she thought it was just a cute nickname and I whole heartedly believe that, but at 13, Ziggy Piggy isn’t the most encouraging of nicknames. Accompanied with thick thighs that didn’t fit in normal teen pants, I constantly felt uncomfortable in my skin. Boys didn’t look at me, flirt with me, ask me out, etc., so I began seeking validation online. This was the beginning of the online chat era so where did I find myself? Talking to grown men online who told me I was hot. What awkward girl doesn’t love that?

Thankfully, I didn’t meet up with anyone because I couldn’t imagine what might have happened and I was deathly afraid of my mother. I was also smart enough to not send pictures or give out my address, but dear god I was dumb. (Side note, parents it’s okay to be overprotective. It might save your child’s life)

Continuing, and I’m sure my mom is probably reading this and flabbergasted, but I’m also 100% sure she found my journal of secrets after I graduated. Sneaking out and meeting boys who only wanted one thing. Sorry mom (yikes). Anyway, at 16 I was in peak shape, playing volleyball, working out, and still feeling like complete shit about myself. I remember I joined Athletics, which is basically weight training, and I gained about 10 lbs and I was so embarrassed and upset because I was around these naturally skinny girls that weight 120 lbs compared to my 150 lbs. My instructor pulled me aside and said I had nothing to be upset about because I had been weight lifting and building muscle. If I had lost weight he would’ve been worried about me. I still absolutely hated shopping for myself because again, thick thighs/wide hips, I didn’t fit into junior clothes. The outing usually consisted of my mother “encouraging” me to lose 10-15 more pounds and I’d fit more comfortably in my clothes or if I did lose weight I could get new clothes. Now don’t go ganging up on my mom because I believe it was from a place of love, but when you already loathe your body, being told to lose some more weight can be crushing.

As I got into college, my self esteem took a slight uprise as I was around a different group of people and I was actually around people that found me attractive (i.e., I wasn’t one of the few white girls in a town of Native Americans and Hispanics). I was still pretty active and avoided the freshman 15. Even through my sophomore year I didn’t put on much weight. But fast forward to long term relationship and engagement I started to gain weight rapidly. Living off campus meant no more walking everywhere and limited access to healthy food. I still only put on about 20 lbs in a couple years, but once it was time to pick out my dress that self hate took over again. I found my dream dress but again the “lose 10-15 lbs to be comfortable” was pushed on me and I would cry thinking about not fitting in my dress. Looking at my wedding pictures I was disgusted in how my skin pitched and spilled over in places, when I should’ve been focusing on how beautiful I looked.

6 months after being married, my husband took a job in another state and I stayed behind to finish school. I call this the dark days because I over ate, I drank a lot, and I was alone. I had a routine of Panera for breakfast, something on campus for lunch, fast food for dinner, and usually enough alcohol to get me to sleep. I gained about 30lbs in less than a year and it showed. I developed a gut that had a hang. Never in my life had my stomach grown. It was always my thighs and butt, but I think they had finally maxed out and it had to go somewhere else. Ta-da my stomach. With even more of a couch lifestyle and comfort food eating, I gained more weight. I was depressed and unhappy with myself. 250 lbs. In the back of my head, my ex’s comment of “if you ever hit 250 we can’t be together” echoed over and over. I would start diet after diet, work out after work out, but I wasn’t getting support at home so that usually failed in a couple weeks. My sex life had dropped off due to my husbands own self esteem issues so I was constantly doubting the “you’re beautiful” comments. I was constantly comparing myself to my girl friends and coworkers. I only took pictures from my boobs up and almost always avoided full length pictures.

Fast forward to the present. Getting a divorce will make you take a long hard look at yourself and I’ll tell you it’s not always fun. I started to see that I needed to be enough for myself before I could be enough for another person. I’m not gonna lie, this Thicc movement has been a game changer. Seeing women who are my size and larger, own their bodies and be confident in every curve is an inspiration daily. I started keto and lost 15 lbs in two weeks. I’m currently sitting at 225 lbs and I can tell you I love myself. Some days not so much, but most days between my man, my tribe, and my own self voice I feel pretty damn hot. If I could go back to 16 I would tell Katie that she is so gorgeous and to love herself first before letting others opinions influence her. I guess in summation, love yourself. Thin, thick, curvy, skinny, whatever your body type. Your internal voice matters the most. Let it be the loudest.

I’m not quite sure where I plan to take this blog, but I’ve been encouraged by those in my life to put myself out there. I can tell you this is blog is going to be a conglomerate of topics. Love, sports, work, poetry, pop culture, sex, and just life in general. So buckle up folks, it’s gonna be a bumpy ride. It’s going to get real at times and brutally honest, but I hope somewhere along this journey I am able to make a positive impact on your life, even if it’s in the most minute way. Maybe along the way you’ll find that you are also accidentally awesome.

Thanks for joining me!

Good company in a journey makes the way seem shorter. — Izaak Walton