The Recently Married Feminist

I just got married two weeks
ago and for any female who has been married (spoiler alert to those we are about to tie the knot) the next question society throws at you once you answered the first one (you know, the marriage one)  sounds a little something like “Soooooo when are you two having kids?!?”. This line is usually said with a winking expression and a little too excitement.  As if I did not get enough angry car ride talks from my own mother my entire adult life I now get it from the random Great aunt I didn’t know I had, the random Facebook stalker and even worse, the coworkers you have to face on a daily basis. Today, a random Wednesday, I got the stomach flu at work. Yep the horrible “I don’t think I can make it though the rest of the day” kind of stomach bug. So, after a quick exit and a few too many episodes of shark week on the couch I get a phone call from my work ally and bff. She informed me that everyone at work was practically giddy once I left claiming that they knew all along that I must be pregnant. I mean clearly a stomach flu, food poising or  just being sick was completely out of the question. The last time I had the stomach flu nothing was thought of it but, then again I wasn’t, wait for it….. married. Since I am now married apparently the only option for me is to be with child. Its literally been two weeks and in the words of my husband “I mean I know I’m Latin but even if we were trying I’m not that good.” It literally blows my mind that such sexist and stereotypical thoughts are coming from WOMEN. That all I must want to do is get hitched and knocked up asap. Now, for this next part you may want to find a chair and sit down because it is a bit out there.
I want to finish my degree. I want a career. I want a downtown apartment with a fast paced life and bright lights. I want long flights to different places and lots and lots of read books filling my walls. I want meaningful tattoos and super late Sunday brunches. And, as of this moment I do not want children. If you are still breathing congratulations, you are one of few. The other day I was wearing a new outfit and my classic red lips when someone came up to me and said “wow you look really nice you must have a hot date with your new husband”. Innocent yes, until I really saw the look on their face when I said “no” and meant it. Why is it such a far fetched idea that I may look absolutely fabulous simply for myself. I wore that red lipstick because I felt good. I bought that new outfit and rocked it because I wanted to. While I love my husband more than anything he is not just my husband and I am just his wife. We are friends and partners and confidants. He doesn’t get asked if the reason he chose his outfit today was because his hot wife was taking him out. He doesn’t leave work early with the stomach flu to come back the next day having to explain that no, he isn’t pregnant he simply ate something bad. The idea of him being married does not consume his public identity. He is not seen as a “husband” in the outside world he is seen as himself. His career self, his friend self, his home self; none of which are affected by his new role of husband. I do not believe it to be fair that all my roles have vanished in society and I have been left with one role. Wife. Along with this role I have expected actions and much like the child who does not complete their homework I am punished for my inability to live up to this out of date role. I am independent and a wife. I am a full time student and madly in love. I dress for myself and I like being taken care of. There is more to me than the title society has recently bestowed upon me and, so are you.

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The Main Thing is to Not Get Excited

Aside

hey i missed you today.

I missed having the ability to watch my problems evaporate when your easy laugh wafted through the room.

I missed the way that you would hold my hand in the middle of the night because I was afraid, Lord knows I wish you were here to hold my hand now, because my problems and fears have only gotten bigger and scarier as I cross this path into adulthood.

I missed the way you would have told me you were proud of me and hugged me as I got my first college diploma.

I missed you sitting in your favorite chair turning around and smiling at me as I came to visit your house.

I felt you today.

I felt you today as the warm sun shined down through the trees on the path I was hiking. In the way the daisy’s lined my trail just like the ones we would pick together when I was small.

I felt you today as I drove down sun drenched country roads as the wind whipped through my hair.

I felt you today as I sat by the campfire on a chilly spring night and stared up at the stars that you taught me the names of.

A New Kind of Love

Let me start off with the hard hitting facts. I am 21 years old, a college student, and planning a June wedding to my wonderful fiance who also happens to be, wait for it, 21. We are no stranger to opposition, to weird side glances, and almost disapproving looks from many. Many moons ago getting married at 21 was by far the norm, the days of our grandparents where getting married by 18 was something to celebrate. Getting married at 21 in the year 2014 is more like being a traveling circus or an exhibit at the Ripleys Believe it or Not museum. Most people handle it pretty well when the topic comes up, from peers its usually goes something like this ‘ohhhhhh wow! You are engaged? How old are you again?’ and from older adults it goes a little something like this ‘Wow, um Congrats! you both are so young!’. Which, is true, we are young. The rest of the truth is, I have been with my fiance for almost four years and, we have never had a conventional kind of love. He is from Brazil and the day we met was the day we kissed and the day we started dating and, if you ask him it was also ‘the day he fell in love’ (what can I say, it took me awhile to make sure). We were 17 and widely in love and that feeling hasn’t gone away through long distance, holidays, graduation, college, and now living together. We are a normal couple we have our arguments and fights but one thing we decided long ago not to fight was societal standards.We decided long ago that we would do what was right for us, not what the world expected from us. Now don’t get me wrong, if life had not taken me on the journey I am on today, I would probably also have respond to a young woman’s engagement with a little bit of confusion and a whole lot of sass. I also understand how older adults, my mothers generation, tend to be suspicious and how they love to give out the ‘well this isn’t going to last long’ look, with the rapid divorce rate among that age group how could you blame them? But what I don’t think people understand is that every love is different, and this is our love. Every love moves at a different pace, it falls apart at a different time, it works through its own unique obstacles, it fights its own fight. This is our love and for once in my life I have decided not to take my love up to the thrown of society and asks what it wants with me. I have decided to let our love evolve naturally and without reservation. I have decided to not let the disfavoring looks of my peers and my elders and society to control our love. Because, this love is ours. It talks different, walks different, moves different than his kind of love, or her kind of love, or your kind of love. Every love is different. And, it is about time we start to revel in that. We need to not let our own ideas of love and our own prejudices dictate someone else’s. Because, in the end we are the only ones who have to deal with the consequences. If it end we are the ones that suffer, or enjoy, why then should we allow society to mandate unnecessary love guidelines if we are the ones who have to face the music in the end? Will we have children, will we settle down in New York, L.A., London, will be get along, will be be married until death do us apart? The thing is I have no idea and, man, how happy that makes me. Once you cut the ties of normalcy and the irrelevant standards set by society over your life and love you will experience a freedom unlike anything you have ever known. Cut the ties. Experience your love. Enjoy your life.

The Midnight Burglar

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Screw Cancer. It’s like a burglar that comes at midnight. It comes in the middle of an unsuspecting night, while you lay fast asleep cozy in bed next to a loved one, or your favorite stuffed animal. Whether it tricks the lock or scales the windows and doors it somehow manages to slip through the smallest unexamined crack, and finds a way in to the place you always assumed would be safe. It defiles your home and leaves you feeling vulnerable and confused. It comes swift and bold and strong. It moves silently, slipping into every room without you having a chance. It ransacks your life, it goes through your belongings and it makes sure you don’t hear a damn thing while it carries out its selfish intentions. It works tirelessly, to gather all the things you hold dear so it can take it for itself.  And, by the time you wake up and roll out of the warm comfort of your bed, by the time you walk down the stairs, by the time you catch it, it has removed everything that holds any real value and leaves not a trace of evidence behind to have a culprit to blame. Screw Cancer. It takes your TV and your curtains and all the money you have ever saved. It takes your peace of mind and any idea of security you have ever had. It takes your favorite necklace and your favorite shoes and any favorite you have ever had. Just like the midnight burglar it is needy and silent and fast. It’s only motivation is to take all the things you love and leave you feeling helpless. It has no remorse and no conscience. It is quiet and cunning and destructive. Screw Cancer. If only we had a vague sketch artist drawing of you that we could pin down Criminal Minds style and lock you away for life. If only we had a leading witness to testify against you in trial. If only we had a face to blame. If only we had a way to get all the things back you stole. If only you weren’t the best thief there ever was.

The Day I Forgot to Wear Makeup

If you made it through the title (a little lengthy l I know) then you will know what your lovely little eyes are about to read. I decided not to go with a moody, could be something but not sure title and stick right with the point. Trust me I took AP English in high school, I know what its like to spend hours having to decipher what the author possibly, probably meant by using that one word melodramatic title line. But, back to the point. This was one hell of a week may I add. Most people would simply blow through this title and mumble quietly to themselves “get some real problems lady”, but you didn’t, go you. While this problem may seem like something small in a world filled with violence and mass corruption lets remember, I am a Type A perfectionist and if you are unfortunately there with me then you get the heaviness of this problem. This problem also taught me an important lesson, funny how the world does that to you isn’t it? Lets start at the beginning shall we?

Well lets begin with the ‘forgetting to wear makeup’ thing. As a young women, who goes to school and holds down a job one would expect that you wear makeup on a regular basis as to not look ‘tired’ or I don’t know, like a 15 year old maybe. Forgetting to come into work wearing makeup is a mountain I had yet to climb, until last week that is. I came in to open work at 8 am and upon stepping across a mirror, realized that I had failed upon leaving the house to apply even a drop of makeup. Yep you heard me right, early morning on the job, sans makeup. Quite a scene that sets. I instantly went into a deep panic and when I say panic I mean I freaked out. I didn’t bring anything with me except lipstick and that wouldn’t help a sister at the moment. I immediately messaged by fiance and asked how on this precious earth had he forgotten to remind me that ‘hey you are leaving the house looking all sorts of crazy’? To which he simply replied that it wasn’t a big deal, that I was pretty and he hadn’t noticed. Which sounded like a lot of blah blah blah to a women who had just walked into her place of employment looking like a bag lady. Until I could run out and grab some drugstore eyeliner I knew I would be fresh faced and hiding my face. About a steady hour into hiding my unmascaraed face with my hair and computer, I started thinking. And, this is where the life lesson comes in. Why in the literal world was I so scared of not wearing makeup when this is how I look. And, no amount of makeup would ever change how I look when I take it off and lay my head down to sleep each night (quick side note to all my ladies, make sure you take that makeup off at night unless you want to wake up with those dreaded raccoon eyes or even worse…..a pimple).These beady blue/green eyes, transparent eyelids and naturally rosy cheeks belonged to me. I sound like a real knockout don’t I? But, this was the way I was made, this is the face I have been given and we must live in a pretty messed up society if I felt ashamed of it. If I literally spiraled into a mid morning panic thinking that GASP, someone would see my real face. That begs the question of what the heck is wrong with the world? Well there is too many things to really put down here in words but something that we can start to do is stop loosing our minds about looking done up and perfect. Because frankly we aren’t. We have pimples and bags under our eyes and scars with long stories. We have too curly hair, too straight hair, too wavy hair. But hey, that is what makes us ourselves, our unique uneven skin toned selves.Think about it, can you to leave the house without makeup and still think, I may not look like Americas next top model, but I am myself and that is a great thing to be? If you are a mother then don’t let makeup rule your idea of beauty, children will latch onto that. A day never really went by when I didn’t see my mother putting on at least eyeliner before we went anywhere and upon forgetting hear the ‘OMG I AM NOT WEARING ANY MAKEUP’ panic we all know and love. Unfortunately the society we live in pressures women of all ages to a obtain an unrealistic expectation of beauty. From young teens to women in their sixty’s, there is some sort of pressure. We all think to ourselves, well hey those celebrities are 14 but look 20. Or, those sixty year olds look 40.Which is not realistic. Those celebrities don’t even look like those celebrities. By the time makeup artists, Photoshop, fans and airbrushing gets done with them they become the poster child of an unrealistic and way out of control beauty system.Embrace that  no matter how many times you try your eyelashes will never curl properly and, no matter how much contouring you do, you in fact still have a round face. Embrace that you have freckles (if any of you want some, I have plenty to go around) and embrace the fact that you will never be able to tan. Embrace your big nose or your small nose or your long nose. Embrace the color of your eyes and the way that your skin is never perfect. I challenge everyone to take a step outside their comfort zone regarding appreciating your natural beauty. Whether that be not putting on makeup to go to the gym or taking a #nofilter, no makeup selfie, do something. You are beautiful and stunning and all the other adjectives your little heart can think of. Be proud of who you are, rosy cheeks and all. 

Just you and I

I lay here on this leather couch, the sun just set, the stars are rising in the sky. The light from the moon begins to slowly spill through the open shutters and the room becomes filled, ocean deep in a soft glow. We lay together, you and me, just the way it works best. There we are, smothered in moonlight in that quiet room clinging to each other,  too afraid of what would happen if we let go. If I open my eyes will you have just been a sweet and perfect dream? The kind of dream that leaves you breathless, the kind that takes you hours to separate from? Will the long walks by the river and the warm summer sunsets drift away like all my other dreams. If I breathe too loudly will I blow all of this away like a child blows a freshly picked dandelion in the summer time, will you have just been my single wish? If I blink will our lives flash before me too rapidly for me to stop it? Will I flash forward and miss all this life has to offer us? If I fall asleep will I wake to us in our old age laying in the warn in, butter cream sheets in the home we have had for 50 years? We cling to each other because we are too afraid of what would happen if we let go. My breath begins to quicken and I feel your grasp on me grow tighter, are you thinking of this too? I want to sink in the cold,crisp ocean with you, and drink the tartest wine in Italy, I want to get a sunburn in the Caribbean and never stop holding your hand. I want to fall asleep under the perfect set of stars, and dance in the middle of the street, no street in particular, just about all of them. I want to smell your cologne on your neck and run away to Paris for awhile. I want our laughter to fill the quiet streets on a cold night, I want to get lost in the jungle and, meet every member of your family. I want to build a million tents and see a million places and be with only you.  I have a full life planned for you and I, don’t let me go.

The Best and Coldest day of my life

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The Best and Coldest day of my life

Seeing the ball drop on new years was always a must do for me. Juka (My then boyfriend) promised me on my couch, new years eve of 2013 that next year that would be us. We would be the ones out there under the confetti and singing with Frank Sinatra about one of the coolest places on earth. Me, of course thinking he was all talk. He surprised me a couple months before December of 2013 saying that this was for real, he was going to take me to the city of my dreams on the best night of the year. Or, as he put it “The first day I met you, one of the very first things you said to me was that your dream was to see New York and I swore to myself that day that when I could, I would make that dream come true”, I know, I know I found a great one. So Juka and I came in a few days early to New York. We spent the days seeing the 9/11 Memorial, the Statue of liberty and of course Rockefeller center. Around 2 pm New years eve (this year) we took our spots. Yes you read that right, two pm, and if you can count that means we were outside for a hearty ten hours. We had thought that we had dressed warmly, but after a few hours we almost threw in the towel. If it wasn’t for Jukas constant “we cant turn back now” chant I don’t know if I would have made it after I lost the feeling in my feet. It even started snowing! We actually met some fellow Ohioans (OH!) and they were nice enough to share their pizza with us. Because of course like almost everyone else down there we were incredibly unprepared. As you can imagine ten hours doesn’t creep by slowly even when you are in one of the most magical places on earth. But, I would not have rather been down there in the perfect spot with anyone else. We passed the hours jumping, squatting, laughing, and shivering, and of course hugging for warmth. One of the hugs I felt something square under his jacket and when I asked him what it was he quickly responded with “Um my wallet and stuff”. When everyone was up and ready, it was within the hour that we had all been waiting for, the nivea balloons were passed out and we all got a pair of spider man gloves. A minute before the ball drop I hear Juka say something to me so I turn around to find him down on one knee and my very best friend asked me to marry him, right there on the disgustingly dirty streets of times square. I immediately put the ring on my finger, covered my mouth, and rapidly nodded yes. Just then the count down began, and I would try to explain what it feels like to be newly engaged, standing in one of the coolest places on earth, and chanting down the coming of a new year with millions of people, but I cant really find the words. When the ball was down and the fireworks began, the square became covered in a rainbow of confetti just as I had dreamed it would. We hugged, we cried, we screamed and then we took off for the subway to get the heck out of there. While it took me about an hour to feel my limbs again, I defiantly wouldn’t have changed going. I mean I probably wont go again, but hey it was an amazing once in a lifetime experience. In the middle of Times square I got engaged to a man that I only dreamed existed.