Getting It!

By many standards, I am That Girl Who Is Desperate to Get Married.

Personally, I think I’m just a young woman who is nearly ready to be engaged, but the world is telling me otherwise.

Right now, I feel like I’m getting a hit with an onslaught of wedding-related messages. On the one hand, there’s the barrage of “have a wedding be a bride have a wedding most important day of your life have a wedding get swept off your feet have a wedding!!!!!” advertising (fun fact: images of brides can help sell anything, even if the product isn’t related to weddings). On the other hand, there are the “let’s gossip about That Girl Waiting Around for Her Boyfriend to Propose” conversations I hear women having constantly.

And in the middle of this, there is me, a woman who feels a lot of guilt and stress about wanting to be married. Because I feel like even though I know in my gut that I want to be married for good reasons, as soon as I talk about engagement, people just assume I’m some anti-feminist nitwit who has bought into the hype. I hate that.

I’ve written about engagements and weddings a few times in the past year — how to deal if it feels like everyone in your life is getting engaged, questions to ask that aren’t “So when are you getting married?” and my feelings on that question, and what purpose proposals serve for modern couples. In the comments after each post, women who are in serious relationships but aren’t ready to be engaged lament the fact that strangers cannot seem to be OK with their statuses, even though they are. It’s always a great discussion and I find myself cheering for these women who are bucking tradition. But every time, I wonder if someone — anyone — is going to come out and say, “You know what? I’m not engaged and I’m not OK with it.” No one ever does though.

Then I realized that maybe no one is saying that she isn’t OK with her status because nice women/loved women/smart women/modern women aren’t supposed to talk about that.

So…that’s why I’m going to talk about it today.

After spending the past few months watching friends get engaged, watching friends wait to get engaged, talking to married people, talking to divorced people, reading everything I could get my hands on about marriage/gender roles/societal expectations, and looking at my own relationship status, I’ve finally gotten to a place where I’m both clear-headed and pissed off at the world enough to write about what I want to be the new rules of our society’s conversations about women and engagement, weddings, and marriage.

Rule #40: You have a right to have a say in your future. I get so frustrated by the way everyone treats engagement and marriage like it’s only one person’s decision (usually the man’s). Um, it’s not just that I have a right to know where my relationship is heading; it’s that I get a to have a fucking say in where my relationship is heading. By accepting the “pop the question” or “put a ring on it” mentality, we give men all the power and send a clear message that what the woman wants doesn’t matter. But it does matter. And taking part in those conversations doesn’t make you desperate.

Rule #41: You have a right to have a say in your future even if you watch “Say Yes to the Dress.” If you’ve ever watched a wedding show, been a bridesmaid, or looked at a wedding album posted on Facebook, it’s basically assumed that you’re “obsessed with weddings” and therefore don’t get to have an adult, mature conversation about your future. I’m so over watching women’s feelings get dismissed just because we live in a culture that glorifies weddings everywhere you look. Look, I eat yogurt. I like flowers, and I say pretty much everything the girls say in “Sh*t Girls Say.” And these things? Don’t make me more of a woman or less of a person. They don’t mean I’m incapable of knowing what I want in life. And neither does an interest in weddings.

Rule #42: Women’s and men’s reasons for feeling ready or not ready need to be treated as equally important. Sometimes I feel like it’s automatically assumed that women’s timelines are completely ridiculous, that we wake up one day, see a couple friends get engaged, and decide, OMG WANT without giving it any serious thought. But men’s reasons are often treated as really logical and smart (making women dumb and illogical by default). But how is your worrying about your fertility any less of a reason than his worrying about his finances?

Rule #43: Women’s and men’s reasons for feeling ready or not ready need to be treated as equally arbitrary. I’ve seen so many discussions about how women are affected by fairy tales or other cultural influences. (People are usually saying women aren’t to blame, but in this backhanded way, they are still saying that all women are, in fact, under the control of these influences.) “Oh, she only wants to get married because [insert some sexist assumption here; be sure to reference Disney].” On the other hand, I can’t tell you how many guys I’ve heard say that they aren’t ready to get married because they are worried about money/job security or because they want to be able to afford a bigger ring — things that all scream “male provider stereotype” to me. We need to at least consider that men might be as influenced by fairy tales and gender expectations as women are. We need to stop blaming Cinderella and take a look at Prince Charming.

Rule #44: When you’re in a serious relationship, you need to make a new timeline — one that reflects both of your needs. It’s fine to have your own timeline for big life events, but we should all expect those timelines to change when we get into a serious relationship. And when I say “we” should all expect that, I mean women and men should expect that. It’s just unrealistic to expect that you and your partner will be on the exact same page about everything you want for the future. I don’t think you’re doomed if you’re not on the same page. You simply have to compromise. Something they recommend you learn to do before you get married.

Rule #45: Our ideas of how things “should” be get in the way of really healthy, necessary conversations. Apparently, there is a very small window of time in which both partners must feel ready. If she’s ready too soon, she’s desperate. If he’s not ready soon enough, it’s “never going to happen.” If he’s ready before she is, there is something wrong with her. Yeah, I’d been fed that bullshit for a while too and honestly, it really got to me. The truth is, Eric and I had a lot of long, emotional conversations as we negotiated and created a new timeline that both of us were comfortable with. While the conversations were incredibly productive, I felt so guilty every time we had them because this wasn’t how things were “supposed” to work. I was supposed to “let things happen” or “be patient.” He was supposed to be ready at the same time I was. But once we stopped fighting the very idea of having these conversations and arguments, I felt like we took our relationship to a whole new level. And I’m pretty sure that learning to shut out others’ opinions and communicate about what we really want will help us immensely when we are married. (Oh and for the record, talking — and even fighting — about your future isn’t as unromantic as you might think. It’s not exactly fun, but there’s something deeply emotional about saying, “I’m willing to rearrange the plans I had about my life for you” and having someone say the same thing back to you. That’s a hell of a lot more romantic to me than hiding my needs for a year so I can be surprised with some sort of hot air balloon spectacle.)

Rule #46: We need to stop shaming women who want to get married. So. Back to That Girl Who Is So Desperate To Be Married. I’m not sure this girl exists. But if she does, I think we created her. We constantly reinforce unrealistic romantic ideals and then judge any woman and relationship that fails to meet them. We praise women whose men “got it right.” We shame women for “sitting around waiting” and “nagging him to marry her” but we never empower them to challenge the mores that strip them of their right to have a say. We force women to deny how they feel, avoid “pressuring” their significant others, and say they “don’t care when they get married.” (Oh and all of you women who are wonder why no one believes you when you say you’re fine not being married? This is why — because there are so many women who have decided to say that to save face, it ruins things for those of you who actually do mean it. It’s like we’re making other women cry wolf.)

Remember that whether you’re cool with your relationship status or want it to change, you’re allowed to own your feelings and feel them without guilt and judgment from others.

{ 74 comments }

Lessons From My Boudoir Photo Shoot

by Rachel on January 23, 2012

Apparently, the number of one-night stands you’ve had is actually not directly correlated to how comfortable you are taking your clothes off in the presence of a stranger. You’d think they’d be related, but they aren’t.

When I think about doing a boudoir-style photo shoot for the two years leading up to it, I don’t think, “Will I feel comfortable doing this?” I mean, of course I’ll feel comfortable doing this. Feeling comfortable is exactly why I want to do it. My body and I have a relationship like the man and woman who are enemies at the beginning of a romantic comedy. For whatever reason, we just didn’t get along for much of my life. And then I started to resent it; I blamed it for everything I didn’t like about my life and punished it accordingly. But eventually, I started to see it in a different light, and before I knew it, I was deeply in love, treating it well and then downright romanicing it. Cue the end credits! And the photo shoot!

I don’t have much time to think about my impending nudity during the week leading up to the photo shoot. I’m so busy with work, writing assignments, yoga, household chores, and puppies, getting naked is the last thing on my mind. Finally on Thursday I realize I need to get it together, that I need to clean up my apartment if I’m going to have a guest, and, oh…I should probably do something about these cuticles too, huh? So I put a little brainpower into my looks, scheduling an eyebrow appointment and a hair appointment, but really, I’m more concerned with the state of my apartment. I’m sure a lot of people would spend the week leading up to this type of photo shoot getting their hair colored or getting a bikini wax or something, but rather than worry about that, I worry about my literal carpet and drapes — and bathrooms, sheets, dishes, and laundry. Not only am I playing hostess to my friend and photographer Caitlin, but she’s shooting me at my apartment, in my guest bedroom. My apartment actually needs to look camera-ready. So I’m more worried about that than myself. I avoid pizza and beer and go to yoga as usual, but other than that, I pay very little attention to my body. When I do think about it, I just decide it’s probably too late to make any changes. My biceps are as good as they are going to get, but I can’t say the same about my bathroom. So I put my efforts there.

When I wake up on Saturday morning, it is very dark. I exfoliate, slather on body oil, and put on some lacy underwear and a robe before doing my hair and make-up more carefully than I normally would. By the time I’m ready to make breakfast at 7:30, I look a bit overdressed. Well, underdressed, I suppose. But you know — more glamorous than I think I’ve ever looked for breakfast in my entire life. As Eric and I move around the kitchen warming up a loaf of chocolate cranberry bread and making bacon, I wonder what it would be like if I always looked like this when I was making breakfast. Then I consider that if I always looked like this at 7:30 AM, I probably wouldn’t be making my own breakfast. I’d be way too high-maintenance for that.

As Eric, Caitlin, and I eat breakfast, it is hard to ignore how dark it still is outside. The sky is lightening, but it is not exactly brightening. The ground is wet and there were a lot of clouds. I don’t really think much of it — it’s not like we are all up this early because we were going on a picnic — but Caitlin is looking at the clouds like a photographer. And she is saying that we can’t shoot while it is that dark.

It hasn’t occurred to me that bad weather might throw off this whole thing, but suddenly, it’s looking like I’m all dressed up with no place to go. So…we wait. Eric heads to spin class. We wait. Eric returns home from spin, showers, and heads to a golf lesson. I wish he were staying, if only because I know he’d make me laugh during the shoot, and laughing is always good.

Everyone I’ve told about this shoot immediately asks me if I’m doing it as a surprise for Eric, and the answer is no. My boyfriend loves and appreciates my body and will appreciate the pictures, don’t get me wrong, but it’s just…different for him. He doesn’t know my body like I do. He doesn’t have a long relationship with it like I do. When I think about doing this for him, it makes me think that I would have to deny him all other times so he’d be really excited because he never gets to see me like this. And I’m not the denying type. The truth is, how Caitlin is shooting me is exactly how Eric seems me on a regular basis — happy, sexy, half-naked in the early morning light. He doesn’t need pictures. And also, I’ve always been confused about the expectations when you give a man a photo album of sexy shots of you. What is he to do with it? I feel like there’s some sort of implied, “Sooooo….I better not ever catch you looking at porn agin. Happy birthday, honey!”

We’ve been waiting for a few hours now; I do laundry and start to consider the fact that this might not happen. Much to my surprise, I’m not that upset. Hm. Well that’s weird. I thought I’d be a bit more excited than this.

When there is a subtle shift in the light, I don’t notice it, but Caitlin does, and she tells me we’re good to go. And then suddenly, I start stalling like I’ve never stalled for anything before.

I tell her I’m just going to touch up my hair and make-up, but then I realize I need to collect all the outfit changes that I might need. And oh, this shirt needs to be ironed. And I need water. And I think the dogs need to go out. And my hair just will not do what I want it to do. And I think I need some powder on my face. And where is my lip gloss? And let me just put on some music. And on and on and on. As I look in the mirror for the thousandth time, I realize…I’m stalling. That’s not really my style; usually I decide to do something and then just do it.

“You’re afraid to drop your robe, now?” my glamorous, made-up self asks me. All the lip gloss accentuates the scowl on her face. “Really? Because I’m fairly certain that you have never, ever given it this much thought when someone you had met only once before was telling you to take off your clothes and come lie down.”

“Fine,” I say, and start heading toward the bedroom. Then I stop.

“My hair doesn’t look right,” I tell her, and I plug the curling iron back in.

“STOP TOUCHING IT!” she screams at me. She narrows her eyes at me so I can see her lovely, smoky eye shadow. “It looks fine but you keep playing with it like you’re a teenage girl. Who the hell does that? When have you ever done that? Are you trying to be like…flirty? Are you practicing for the shoot? Because you look like an idiot.”

We go back and forth like this for another 10 minutes before she finally drags me out of the bathroom.

I take off my robe. For the first photos, I am wearing a thin pink ribbed tank top and black lace bottoms. You can see my nipples and my ass cheeks. It’s one of my favorite things to wear when I’m relaxing. I typically have no problems feeling sexy and comfortable when I’m dressed like this. But now? Now I walk over to the bed and assume a position that seems more appropriate for senior pictures than for this type of photo shoot, especially since I have the pasted-on fake smile to match it. Shouldn’t there be a “CLASS OF ’12″ pillow on this bed or something? I imagine getting the finished photos printed as wallets; I’ll write my name on the back in big cursive letters and hand them out to all my friends.

Caitlin starts shooting and I’m still unrelaxed. I tell her that some people had recommended I have a drink first, and I figured I didn’t need one. Now I’m wishing I had one, though I know I’d turn making a drink into a 30 minute ordeal, so I decide to skip it.

Caitlin tells me to do whatever I want, that her best shots are the candid ones, but we all know “act natural” is an oxymoron. I have no idea what to do. I try smiling, but I can only imagine how my toothy, oh-this-makes-sense-in-a-snapshot-when-I’m-wearing-clothes grin will look when I’m sticking my ass out like I am at the moment. It just feels so cheesy. Should I try to act sexy? I honestly have no idea how to even do that. When models make their sexy faces, they aren’t smiling. But when I don’t smile in pictures, I don’t look sexy. I actually look my worst.

So to take the focus off my face, which doesn’t know what the hell it wants to do, I ask Caitlin to take more close-ups of my body. That was really the point of the shoot anyway. I wanted shots of my thighs, arms, tummy, back, butt…pretty much all the areas women are always complaining about. Yes, please take high-res photos of all my so-called “problem areas.” I want to be able to remind myself forever that they really aren’t problematic at all.

As I take off my shirt and move onto my stomach so Caitlin can get pictures of my tattoo, the last big thing I did to celebrate feeling happy and confident and secure with my body, I wonder if I need to acknowledge my semi-nudity. Like “Hey…nipples are incoming!” I mean, she has to know this is part of the gig, but I am her first boudoir shoot, and we are friends. I don’t really care if my friends see my nipples, but I’ve noticed other women seem to care a lot. Many times, other women turn their backs when changing so as not to expose their chests. Why is this? I always think, “Why are you so willing to go off and hook up with random frat guys but you turn your back on a girl friend when changing?” So I do the same thing, figuring if they don’t want me to see their naked body parts, they probably don’t want to see mine. I figure it’s time to break that habit so I don’t make much effort to cover my naked chest as I shift around.

Once my face is out of the picture, I’m free to talk as much as I want. I start asking Caitlin about her life and very quickly, we are chatting. And that actually has a better effect on me than a drink ever could. I don’t feel sexy when I’m posing or smiling or making “sexy” faces…I feel sexy when I’m talking and laughing and engaging with other people. When I’m not thinking about feeling sexy. With every minute that passes that we talk, I feel more like myself. By the time she’s ready to shoot my face again, my face is ready too. I’m sure she’ll have to toss many of the pictures because I’m mid-sentence in them, but that’s why I’m not a model. Looking back on one-night stands or other times when I’ve been fine with people seeing my naked parts, I realize that I probably was talking the entire time leading up to it.

Today’s lesson: once I’m being heard, I feel sexy, and so then I feel comfortable being seen.

{ 38 comments }

Something occurred to me a few months ago when I was thinking about success.

I was thinking about career success and — I’ll be honest — comparing myself to other women my age. And I was thinking about the fact that while my career is going well, there are other people whose careers are most definitely going better. I started to think about all the things I hadn’t done, the success I hadn’t had, and was feeling a bit sorry for myself.

And then it occurred to me that a a lot of the successful people I was thinking about were really nice people. And not like “genuinely kind” nice people, but “played it safe, kissed a lot of ass, pretended to be nice” nice people. People I’d never want to be. And I considered for a minute that if I had done that, I’d probably have achieved their level of success too. It also dawned on me that I got exactly what I had worked for; to me, kissing ass feels like work, so it’s fair to say I wasn’t willing to work hard enough. But at that point, I realized that I had consciously chosen to do things my way, a decision I still stood buy, so I needed to get over the comparison thing. And when I thought of it that way, everything I had achieved — even if it wasn’t the pinnacle of achievement — seemed so much better.

Of course, when it comes to success, some things are out of our control, and you have to stop and think about that so you know when to accept that, yeah, life just said no. But now I know that more often than I probably realize, I need to accept my success and — more important — any lack thereof as a direct result of the choices I’ve made. I mean, I’m proud of myself when I’ve done something well; shouldn’t I have take credit (OK — blame) when I’ve done something that produced less-than-desirable results? In both cases, it’s essentially my own fault.

This came up again when I was talking to one of my good friends a few weeks ago about dating. Now, my friend lives an awesome life, one that many girls would envy. She’s amazing at her job — she got promoted way ahead of schedule and everyone loves her at work — she is smart, funny, healthy, cute, lives in an awesome apartment in a cool city, and has tons of great girl friends. The only thing she doesn’t have is a boyfriend. And that gets to her.

So we were discussing how exhausted she is by dating, and I pointed out  that her dating situation is also a result of the choices she’s made. She chose to have an awesome job and awesome friends even if it meant living in a city where dating is harder; she chose to not settle for guys she’s just “eh” about and chose to not do online dating. These were her choices, choices that she can still look back on and feel good about and feel like she’d make again if she had to. So why be mad at the world for not sending her what she ‘s asking for? It’s basically sent her everything she’s been asking for. But because she chose to do things her way, it might take a little longer for her to get all of them. I have no doubt she will. And I have no doubt that I will or that you will, if you’ve made similar choices.

So this rule is just how I remind myself, when I’m thinking about the things I don’t have or haven’t achieved yet, that I may have played a role in what I’d been thinking of as unfair un-successes. But how my life looks right now probably has a lot more to do with my choices than I think it does, and if those choices mean it takes me a couple more years to get where I want to be…well, keeping in mind that at least I won’t hate myself when I get there helps me stay patient.

And seriously, even the tiniest bit of success earned your way, because of your choices, feels awesome. So so so awesome. I don’t know if it feels better than “success” earned by compromising a huge part of yourself but I’d really rather not find out.

{ 21 comments }

“You May All Go to Hell and I Will Go to Texas”: Why I Like Living in Houston

January 11, 2012
red cowboy boots

“So do you like living in Texas?” I get asked this question quite frequently by people who know me who do not happen to live in Texas. “I do,” I say. “Really?” they say. They can’t believe it, I can tell. “Really,” I say. The truth is, Texas isn’t home, but I do like Texas. [...]

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Labels I’ve Worn and Owned

January 3, 2012

If you ask people how they feel about labels, most tend to say that labels are bad. They just seem like a bad thing, right? Not all labels are bad, of course. Food labels tell us that what we’re about to consume has MSG in it or that that candy bar has been “enhanced with [...]

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Getting It: Pushing in 2012

January 2, 2012
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After 26 hours on the road all by my lonesome this weekend, I came up with my verb for 2012. I wanted a verb that reminded me to not be lazy. While I consider myself pretty motivated, I know I have a tendency to get arrogant and stop trying hard at the things I consider [...]

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Getting It: Investing in 2011

December 30, 2011

A lot of people don’t take New Year’s resolutions seriously. Sure, it’s a hot topic this week, but mention them in March and people starting chewing their lips, wondering what the hell their resolution even was. I’m not like that. I can honestly say that my resolutions always matter; they’ve helped me sleep more, floss [...]

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Owning It: Why I Talk About Race

December 19, 2011
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A few weeks ago on Facebook, someone accused me of talking about race too much. The comment totally took me by surprise, as I don’t think I talk about race that often, or at least any more than I “should.” But the more I got into the discussion, the more I realized I wanted to [...]

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“IDK My BFF [Heather, Beth, Jacki, David, Julia, Lauren, Leah]?” (Or, Why I Love My Seven Best Friends)

November 17, 2011
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Do you remember the “IDK my BFF Jill” commercial? Classic. So, today I’d like to tell you about my best friends. I currently have seven. I think some people find this weird, like you can only have one best friend because the superlative “best” implies “the one and only who is better than everyone else.” [...]

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Lesson #113: How to Lead a Passionate Life Without Being Passionate About Your Job

November 14, 2011
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A couple months ago, Nicole contacted me about writing a guest article for Michigan State’s VIM Magazine. Considering that Nicole’s blog makes me miss college sorority like crazy — until I start to feel a little too much like Amy Poehler in Mean Girls and reel it in — I was flattered to be asked [...]

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