Question:
I’m cutting much of this because I only want to jump in on a couple points….
: Twas ever thus. I submit that the classic social unfairnesses : of teens have nothing to do with the rest of this discussion; : in that everybody knows that teens are not human, in either : the emotional nor the intellectual sense 8). : Do you think that with some witty repartee you can discard my entire : youth? 
A classical case of ueberdeckung: you try to down-play with : humor that which you know to be thorougly unacceptable. Mark, I sympathize with your evident pain, really I do. But I have to ask if maybe you’re so lost in your own pain that you’re seeing invalidation where it doesn’t necessarily exist? averti is right when he points out how universally cruel adolescents are to one another, and it’s a point that has been made repeatedly during this thread. But for whatever reason, you seem to find that reality—that intellectual context—to be an emotional threat to you. For example, when Blain recalled the incident from his past that started this whole discussion, he was explicitly clear about some things: that both he and Marla rejected each other, and that they both reacted immaturely, full in the callowness of youth. But I have yet to see you acknowledge even in the *slightest* that Blain understands the position of being rejected. Instead, even in later posts where you apologized for projecting, you still talked about your sympathy for poor rejected Marla and *not* for poor rejected Blain. Why is that? Isn’t that a little bit invalidating to Blain’s experiences? Pointing out that teenagers are cruel to each other almost by definition doesn’t invalidate your pain, nor does it excuse that cruelty. I think perhaps averti’s observation was meant to suggest that if you’re intending to talk about behavior patterns exhibited by society as a whole, then the behavior of teenagers may not be the best evidence for your discussion, since teenagers tend to have their own set of behavior patterns. : But, being the princess that : she is, it only lasts that one hour, until the next week. And I confronted : my therp on this. I asked him, "Hey, if your beautiful daughter has to live : through a tenth of what I have to experience each and all day for only a few : minute moments a week, and really hates it, then why is it okay for her to : do to me?" : : What is it that she does? Faint? Throw herself out the window? : Fling a large bag over you so as to blot out the sight? : Sigh, you do not seem to get it, do you? She does nothing–that is what makes it so : insidious. She is very sociable, she lights up a room with her presence, she never harmed : a fly, she has many friends, and she will marry one of them, be a great mother, have : lovely grandchildren, and the world around her will gladly agree that she has done : nothing wrong. Except, in the end, none of the things she did right, she did with me. : This is disturbing. You derive the non-rights of the ugly from assuming the opposite: : that pretty people have the right to treat ugly people as non-equals. It is the other way : around: the disturbing looking do not have the same right to have people react to them as : if they were pretty, but they have the same right not to be jugded on their appearance as : the pretty. : Uh huh. OK for you to patronize HER on the basis of what you : imagine she is really like… : She is what she does… Mark, here’s where I got really angry at you. You’re directing a lot of anger at this girl who’s, what, 18 years younger than you? You’re very clear up above that people shouldn’t be judged by their appearance. Yet on the basis of her attractive appearance, you are singling her out as a targte of your bitterness. You dismissively refer to her as a "princess," you make a viciously snide comment about "whatever thoughts might be going through that pretty head of hers." It’s the old prejudice that "if she’s attractive she can’t have a brain or any sort of compassionate nature." *That’s* prejudice on your part, and if prejudice isn’t right for us to do to you, it’s not right for you to do to her! Also, you express a very specific bitterness that this one girl won’t be making any of her life choices to involve you. You’re 34 and she’s in high school for goddess’ sake! Even if you were the most handsome man on the planet, I sincerely *hope* that at this time in her life she wouldn’t be making romantic plans with a 34 year old….. This girl may ignore you because you’re one of her father’s clients and her father has coached her about the necessity of professional distance so she treats you like all his clients. She may ignore you because she ignores all adults. She may ignore you because she’s being shallow and prejudiced. She may ignore you because she picks up on all the anger you’re directing towards her—if you had this kind of contempt for me *I’d* sure as hell stay the fuck away….. And that’s all I’m going to say, because I’m still angry and I don’t want to start being nasty. Sherri
Response:
Now here I had this big dissertation about blame and responsibility, and averti went and spoiled it by being concise.
Hi, rosee! [...] Because choices are blame-free. Averti, do you really believe that? Yes, I do, because I make distinctions between _blame_ and _responsibility_. You are generally responsible for the consequences of thing you do; ”blame” implies guilt, and that just doesn’t apply in all situations.
Here’s another difference. If I’m responsible for something, it’s a state; blame is laid *by* someone, even if it’s myself. Of course, this can get frustratingly complicated with the convolutions of legal responsibilities, but still. This is one point that I will have to argue with you on. Choices are not blame-free. With each and every choice we make, in our lives, there is responsibility. Agreed.
Me, too. For example, the person that makes the choice to drive drunk, and kills somebody. How can that be considered a choice that is blame-free? Not to be too nitpicky, it’s not the choice to drive drunk that’s the badness, it’s the killing somebody. What about all the other times the person choose to drive drunk and somehow got home without hitting anything or anybody? Same choice. You may certainly BLAME the person for causing a death, and the death is their responsibility.
I’m not sure I follow this, especially the first part. If someone drives drunk and makes it home without harm, they’re still responsible for taking a high-risk action. They’re not subject to blame because they weren’t caught, but does sliding behind the wheel increase the risks? Sure. Can I blame someone for that? Hey, I can blame anyone for anything I like. I doubt anyone else can stop me short of stopping most of my bodily functions. ("Stop me before I blame again!"?? Don’t even try.) I think blame is a judgment, either on someone else or against myself. If we take that attitude, then what, we just turn around, pat the fellow on the head, and say, "oh that’s okay, you just made a choice." That’s a little simplistic, but basically what actually goes on is that if he doesn’t get into a wreck or get arrested, we don’t have the OPPORTUNITY to pat him on the head. We don’t know.
I agree, but I think you’re dodging the point. Not being caught doesn’t negate responsibility. I for one think it’s deplorable to get into a state where you kill somebody else, but it’s none of my general business who drinks and drives or drinks and walks or drives like a maniac while cold sober. Until something bad happens.
You sure that’s what you meant to say? For each and every survivor, there is, at least, one person that made the choice to abuse. Not in my case. Not as I understand the meaning of ”choice.” My dad didn’t use a little kid for a punching bag due to some conscious choice he made. He did it because he didn’t know any better. He did it because he learned the practice from having been a punching bag himself.
Sorry to hear that for you, but that doesn’t mean that other people didn’t have better choices they could have taken, but didn’t. I don’t believe in evil, but I’ve seen venial often enough. Are my inept, untrained, non-introspective parents to ”blame” for my various adult problems? I don’t think so.
I think a key question is "To blame by who?" Do you blame them? From what you write, no. Could I blame them? Sure, if the thought moved me. To say those choices were blame-free is, IMO, like saying they weren’t responsible for their actions. Hee. Not being religious, I have the handicap of failing to be interested in balancing the guilt books by assigning blame 8).
Plus, I don’t think being responsible has much to do with blame. I know lots of people (my abusers among them) who say they’re responsible for everything, but don’t accept blame for anything. And I do that same thing, frequently. I don’t like blame much and don’t think it has anywhere as much value as most people seem to. They made a choice, a bad choice, they were wrong, they deserve the blame that comes with it. If that’s the way you want to try to rectify things.
If you want to blame them, then you blame them. You don’t need my permission, and my agreement doesn’t give your blame more weight. Do they deserve blame? Again, the key question I see is "According to whom?" People decide these things — blame is a value judgment. When my daughter told me she was pregnant, I had to make a choice. Do I support her, in whatever she decides to do (have the baby and keep it, give it up for adoption, have an abortion), do I support her, conditionally (only if she chooses what I think she should choose), or do I toss her out on her ass, and tell her that she’s made her bed, now lie in it (a term that I personally absolutely hate!) Yeah, it’s lying in bed (usually) that caused the problem in the first place 8).
I think they noticed. – Hide quoted text — Show quoted text – So, we made the choice to support her, unconditionally, no matter what she decided, even if it was something we didn’t like. But, each of those choices held responsibility. Agreed. Now, if your choice turns out to have not been the best one, and additional trouble results, are you to ”blame?” And what do you do with this blame, anyway? Not quite so clear cut, as as the other examples above, but for me, if I had taken one of the other choices, I would be to blame for the damage that would have done to our relationship as mother and daughter. People who make mistakes are blame-worthy? I don’t think we’re going to get very close on this one. _I_ am striving (mildly) for a world in which there is LESS blaming going on, and in which there are distinctions between malicious, evil behavior and just plain ole lousy judgement.
I agree strongly. I’ve seen way too much blame for my tastes, usually for poor to nonexistent reasons. Much of it my own guilt and blame, of course. I’m especially tired of second-guessing and guilt-assignment, especially by me. People make the choice, whether or not, to treat others the way they want to be treated. If they choose not to, then they are responsible for that, and are to blame for the hurt that it causes. Noop. That’s by no means a universal even in this ng. ”Hurt” is owned by the hurtee. Viz my remarks above re my family.
Besides, it’s almost impossible to treat other people exactly the way they want to be treated. It’s part of the general condition. People are frequently uncomfortable and sometimes actively hurt by what other people say. It’s their hurt, though. – Hide quoted text — Show quoted text -Another example: I (unfortunately) know many, many women who have been raped. (It’s not unfortunate that I know them, you get what I mean). SOME have been devastated by the experience. The rapist deserves every bit of responsibility–and blame–for this. SOME have worked it through. A few have more or less shrugged it off. Same violation. Different reactions. Different hurts–determined, if not consciously, by the victim. I am very glad that there are people in this world that don’t base their treatment of others on how they look. My husband is one. When we met, this slim, dark, goodlooking guy walked right past all the "pretty" girls, in the room, and started a conversation with me, the "ugly" one. At least, that is how I saw myself, at the time. Nah, he was just being like me, using the mystical radar sense to home in on the actual best one 8).
I’ve seen lots of people who really don’t know what’s attractive or unattractive to other people. I’m frequently surprised at what the women around me find attractive. – Hide quoted text — Show quoted text – Years later, I asked him why he was drawn to me, rather than one of the pretty girls. He told me that it was because I was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, because, when I smiled, the whole room lit up. He could have had his choice, of a lot of other girls. Matter of fact, I was the object of envy, by several of them. Yep, he could have had his choice, and he chose me. Something I blame him for, to this day. <giggle You get a lot of mileage out of that one word 8). No, averti, IMO, we are each responsible for the choices that we make. We’re on the same page wrt that. Yet, in this ng, we have seen how B reacts to something A has said with a cry of ”You HURT ME bigtime with what you said!” While often as not A is sitting there trying to figure out what all the ruckus is about.
I don’t think we should pretend that learning about ourselves and other people is supposed to be painless. All the progress I’ve cherished has required work and pain. (And work and pain and work and pain and….) B owns all the hurt. Does A own all the blame?
And can sie get a refund? When I make a bad choice, I am the only person that is to blame (unless, of course, the choice was made by my evil twin – nosee) 
Naa, you’re not alone — I blame you, too. (What the hell, I hate to be left out.) take care
Take what? And if I take that, where can I put all that blame I picked up? I’ve only got two hands here. I may just do that 8).
Swords Take PROTECT out of the address for replies. Use anon-15262 at anon.twwells.com for anon email
Response:
Continued from…whatever it’s continued from 8). A key point. Perhaps there is then no need to consider yourself as something that needs to be hidden. It’s been my observation that ppl with visible deformation are treated at a different level than persons who by society’s standards are considered ugly.
Mine as well. But what I was addressing is how one considers _oneself_, not how one is considered by others. The way other folks treat you is influential on your attitude toward yourself, but it need not be definitive. Maybe because there is more ppl who consider themselves to be ugly than ppl who have severe deformation, one is subjective and the other is a reality and cannot be transformed into anything other than it is. So far noone is championing a movement to change anatomical charts to reflect the differences in the body structure. I’m not sure that I read this in the way you did averti. What I heard was not so much that it is something that "needs" to be hidden as it is not something that is in fact subjective but the reality is what it is.
The reality ”is” what it is. But whose reality counts the most, the lookers-at or the one being looked at? – Hide quoted text — Show quoted text – There is not a street I can walk on, not a counter I can pay my groceries at, or people are staring, or desperately trying not to stare. Especially children, who I of course do not blame, but whose honesty is nonetheless all the more painful. Yes. I still can’t see the way around this other than changes in YOUR way of looking at the people who are looking at you. It’s not been my experience that the world is full of folks who automatically mutter ”Here comes that ugly guy again.” Some, sure. But most humans achieve at least a familiarity, upon repeated meetings. If you are not gorgeous-looking but you ARE intelligent, well-spoken, polite, and potentially friendly, you might come out ahead on points over the long haul 8). Yes on the surface I agree here, but when I look a bit deeper and longer. I think there is something else that happens here. I dont’ think any of "us" would enjoy seeing the expression of initial shock when first a person "spies" us within their eye shot.
Probably not. although having been various sorts of person that looked unappealing to others (I was a hippie, a thug, a druggie etc. at times) I don’t think people are looking to ”enjoy” the reactions of others. True, I could stop looking the way I was looking, where deformed persons can’t. I keep coming back to the same stumbling point; nobody who IS disturbing looking has any kind of right (or reasonable expectation) to have people react to them as if they were pretty. And when seeing this on a daily basis from the age that the relization comes that not all people will react to us as the myth of "in a perfect world where all are accepted" is certainly not something to look forward to on a daily basis.
Why would a person with an imperfect body or (in my case) an imperfect and somewhat malformed spirit believe in a ”perfect world?” Certainly on some days, no matter how much we have been flooded with this reaction, we are not going to be "up for it". And granted also that some ppl will never get past their first reaction to accepting you, others will be overly gratutous(?) in an effort to say – see I"m ok with you not being ok and that perhaps is even more insulting to the senses. And yes, eventually over the years you can learn that you ARE intelligent, well spoken, friendly and polite (maybe at times when it is not warranted) and you gain the goal of being points over the long haul. But what of wanting to be included on a deeper level.
Point taken. However, when one wants go beyond the likelihood of reality, the disappointment is inevitable. I might, at times, want to be 25 or Chinese or an opera singer; I cannot (under current technology 8)) achieve any of these unrealistic goals. And this is where ppl who have deformation find life often to be different for them. I have had lengthy discussions with my therp about this. My therp says he cannot change the world, and that I am the one who will have to change. Heh. I just told you the same thing for free.
Albeit at greater length and less organization 8). If the staring bothers me, if never having had a girl-friend bothers me, then I am still the one who has to graciously accept it. Woops. Who said you have to ”graciously” accept anything? You can be royally pissed off and resentful if that’s the way you feel. (Though it doesn’t seem to be doing you a whole lot of good, relatively speaking.)
More anon…
Response:
[...] Because choices are blame-free. Averti, do you really believe that?
Yes, I do, because I make distinctions between _blame_ and _responsibility_. You are generally responsible for the consequences of thing you do; ”blame” implies guilt, and that just doesn’t apply in all situations. This is one point that I will have to argue with you on. Choices are not blame-free. With each and every choice we make, in our lives, there is responsibility.
Agreed. For example, the person that makes the choice to drive drunk, and kills somebody. How can that be considered a choice that is blame-free?
Not to be too nitpicky, it’s not the choice to drive drunk that’s the badness, it’s the killing somebody. What about all the other times the person choose to drive drunk and somehow got home without hitting anything or anybody? Same choice. You may certainly BLAME the person for causing a death, and the death is their responsibility. If we take that attitude, then what, we just turn around, pat the fellow on the head, and say, "oh that’s okay, you just made a choice."
That’s a little simplistic, but basically what actually goes on is that if he doesn’t get into a wreck or get arrested, we don’t have the OPPORTUNITY to pat him on the head. We don’t know. I for one think it’s deplorable to get into a state where you kill somebody else, but it’s none of my general business who drinks and drives or drinks and walks or drives like a maniac while cold sober. Until something bad happens. For each and every survivor, there is, at least, one person that made the choice to abuse.
Not in my case. Not as I understand the meaning of ”choice.” My dad didn’t use a little kid for a punching bag due to some conscious choice he made. He did it because he didn’t know any better. He did it because he learned the practice from having been a punching bag himself. Are my inept, untrained, non-introspective parents to ”blame” for my various adult problems? I don’t think so. To say those choices were blame-free is, IMO, like saying they weren’t responsible for their actions.
Hee. Not being religious, I have the handicap of failing to be interested in balancing the guilt books by assigning blame 8). They made a choice, a bad choice, they were wrong, they deserve the blame that comes with it.
If that’s the way you want to try to rectify things. When my daughter told me she was pregnant, I had to make a choice. Do I support her, in whatever she decides to do (have the baby and keep it, give it up for adoption, have an abortion), do I support her, conditionally (only if she chooses what I think she should choose), or do I toss her out on her ass, and tell her that she’s made her bed, now lie in it (a term that I personally absolutely hate!)
Yeah, it’s lying in bed (usually) that caused the problem in the first place 8). So, we made the choice to support her, unconditionally, no matter what she decided, even if it was something we didn’t like. But, each of those choices held responsibility.
Agreed. Now, if your choice turns out to have not been the best one, and additional trouble results, are you to ”blame?” And what do you do with this blame, anyway? Not quite so clear cut, as the other examples above, but for me, if I had taken one of the other choices, I would be to blame for the damage that would have done to our relationship as mother and daughter.
People who make mistakes are blame-worthy? I don’t think we’re going to get very close on this one. _I_ am striving (mildly) for a world in which there is LESS blaming going on, and in which there are distinctions between malicious, evil behavior and just plain ole lousy judgement. People make the choice, whether or not, to treat others the way they want to be treated. If they choose not to, then they are responsible for that, and are to blame for the hurt that it causes.
Noop. That’s by no means a universal even in this ng. ”Hurt” is owned by the hurtee. Viz my remarks above re my family. Another example: I (unfortunately) know many, many women who have been raped. (It’s not unfortunate that I know them, you get what I mean). SOME have been devastated by the experience. The rapist deserves every bit of responsibility–and blame–for this. SOME have worked it through. A few have more or less shrugged it off. Same violation. Different reactions. Different hurts–determined, if not consciously, by the victim. I am very glad that there are people in this world that don’t base their treatment of others on how they look. My husband is one. When we met, this slim, dark, goodlooking guy walked right past all the "pretty" girls, in the room, and started a conversation with me, the "ugly" one. At least, that is how I saw myself, at the time.
Nah, he was just being like me, using the mystical radar sense to home in on the actual best one 8). Years later, I asked him why he was drawn to me, rather than one of the pretty girls. He told me that it was because I was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, because, when I smiled, the whole room lit up. He could have had his choice, of a lot of other girls. Matter of fact, I was the object of envy, by several of them. Yep, he could have had his choice, and he chose me. Something I blame him for, to this day. <giggle
You get a lot of mileage out of that one word 8). No, averti, IMO, we are each responsible for the choices that we make.
We’re on the same page wrt that. Yet, in this ng, we have seen how B reacts to something A has said with a cry of ”You HURT ME bigtime with what you said!” While often as not A is sitting there trying to figure out what all the ruckus is about. B owns all the hurt. Does A own all the blame? When I make a bad choice, I am the only person that is to blame (unless, of course, the choice was made by my evil twin – nosee) take care
I may just do that 8).
Response:
Hi panther here, first I want to denounce any spelling errors and typos on my part as examples of laziness and not to be confused with lack of careful thought 
I admire laziness. Practiced it all my life. I have several awards for it 8). Wow. There’s way more to this topic than I thought. First of all, I want to apologize for any dismissive, devaluing, or ”get over it” tone in my previous post. Not intended. [...] Do they throw rotten vegetables and horse dung at you? Or, less sarcastically, how do you know the thoughts behind the face? How does anybody? It may be, often as not, that since people at random don’t have to have any sort of interchange with you, they might not be ”rejecting” you at all. Not sure about this, but at adult levels, thank god that type of behavior rarely happens, at least I hope not. Usually that more direct approach is used in earlier developmental stages (As I think you point out below) With adults it is generally a lot more subtle, for many reasons I suspect. Granted we cannot know all that a person "think" but many ppl are not aware that their body language does reveal their inner thoughts.
True enough. As english-speakers we have somewhat been enculturated NOT to reveal emotional reactions in direct ways. (Yes, I’ve been to soccer games and race riots 8). I’m talking on a more individual level.) However, I am leery of internal interpretations of other peoples’ body ”language.” It’s been my experience that in reality a persons actions are more indicative of their response than their verbal interchange. Of course the certainity becomes clearer the longer or more often you meet them but the initial contact, at least for me, is generally quite accurate.
Well, yeah. If, upon meeting you, they wince and screw their eyes shut like Redd Foxx used to do, that’s fairly clear 8). But what about my suggestion below, that upon repeated ”exposure”, if you will, the person gradually gets to appreciate your other qualities– or gets used to your unusual appearance? If you go by YOUR intial reaction to THEIR initial reaction, not much good may come of it. – Hide quoted text — Show quoted text – I read this and wondered if anyone has ever thought I gave them the look you’re describing. Then I started thinking…I grew up thinking that I was ugly…not just ugly but pathetically ugly. I tended to see what I expected to see in people’s eyes. Now, when asked how I perceive my physical appearance, I tend to say I’m plain, but the reality is, I haven’t a clue and rarely do I even think about it… Ay, there’s the rub: if you do not have to think about it, then you’re not ugly. This is a little too rote for me. ”Ugly” as a functional description is subject to attitudes and biases–like pretty much any other subjective evaluation. I am sure that there are still white people in Mississippi to whom any and all african and african-descended people are irredeemably ”ugly;” but this says more about the beholder than the beholdee. Yes I think this is true. It seems people are more inclined to understand this in the context of certain prejudices but not others.
Right. Plus there is a difference between preferences, biases, and prejudices. If I say ”I prefer to go out with women who are into kinky sex” that doesn’t carry the additional message ”Women who are NOT into kinky sex are no good.” Picking people whom you personally find attractive does not imply a rejection of the ones you DON’T pick. I hope. The "black/white" prejudices are discussed widely in society at this stage. Another example would perhaps be even earlier in history with say the europeans coming to america and determining that the american indians were not on a level to deserve the level of humanity due "christian" europeans.
This is an excellent example, partly in that the determination was made pretty much on the basis of what the europeans saw. The notion that a bunch of hairy, diseased, illiterite, religiously bigoted interlopers could look down with unquestioned superiority on a generally much nicer bunch of natives is classic 8). They were treated as a subculture not deserving of the human kindness afforded other ppl with "souls". Bazaar by our standards today of course. But often the truly "silent minorities" are not only not understood my others but actually their deep pain is vertually not seen and therefore not understood.
I agree. But is an ”ugly” person a minority? Do people have, or hope to have, some kinds of civil-rights type expectation of fairness or affirmitive action over appearance? To be continued…
Response:
<appearance and meeting someone you know from the internet Anyone forms a first impression of someone they meet for the first time on their appearance. It’s the first (and only) way to get a handle on someone, if you don’t know anything about them from somwhere else. It’s not about beautiful or ugly or wheelchair or whatever. I feel happier with someone I meet for the first time when this person somehow remindsme of someone I already know and like. I just feel I already know this person. This puts me at ease, the other person notices this, and we actually get along well right from the start. Good or bad looking doesn’t come into it. The internet (or the phone) inverts the whole process. I only met two people from the Internet IRL, and both times bombed badly. This had nothing to do with looks… we had talked about some things on the Internet which people mostly only talk about after they knowing eachother for a while, and when we met, I didn’t know if I was talking to someone I knew fairly well or to a complete stranger, especially as I couldn’t get anything from their appearance. It was probably the same in reverse. So the whole thing started out badly. <disabilities There was a magazine or journal for the disabled called "Does he take sugar?", where people are handled like they are too stupid to answer for themselves, just because they are sitting in a wheelchair. I can imagine the hurt it causes, I hate being talked over, and I’d hate it ten times more if I could connect it to a disability, something which causes all other kinds of difficulties. I was brought up to try to look like I didn’t notice a disability, much less ask about it. So I grew up thinking disabled people had to be treated like raw eggs, and I preferred not saying anything at all than something which just might cause offence. Apart from that, you can’t feel comfortable with someone when you have to watch what you say all the time. Then you start to see the wheelchair first, then the human being. It took a while, and one or two happy, positive-thinking good friends who are disabled, for me to get my head straight. For my part, I have a condition called essential tremor, a hereditary condition making one or both sides of the body and the voice difficult to control, especially in stress situations. Mostly, it is just a slight inconvenience. It is curable, but I don’t think I really want someone pointing a laser into my brain, I’ll pass on that, thanks. This is nothing compared with a real disability, but I would prefer people to talk to me about it before they start talking to others (does he have a drug problem or what?). Anyway, if they ask me about it, they are signaling that they know that my condition is a part of me, not the other way around. I mean, what do they think I’ll do if they ask? Burst in tears? Tear them apart? Do they really believe I don’t think they’ll notice it? Thankfully, most people do ask me about it… I’d prefer people to think of it as something that makes me stick out of the crowd, rather than being a condition. People often ask me if I have Parkinsons (I’m 30!), which makes me laugh… now Parkinsons is really serious. DD
Response:
and averti read. And clippeth. First things first. I think it was a bit unfair of me to blame Blain individually for something that would never have bothered me if it were not a collective problem: the weary fate of the ugly.
As I know you share my investment in Shakespeare, I can’t help but think about Richard III and Caliban. ”Comeliness” was important to the Elizabethans as well as the current crop of TV heads–but part of the riddle for me has always been, did these characters do ”evil” or even disruption BECAUSE they were unpleasant looking, or was a lot of the ”fate” self-assigned? While I feel angry for Marla, I realize that I am primarily projecting. Being a disabled person myself, I have seen that look of yours a thousand times before on a thousand faces: shameless rejection over looks.
Do they throw rotten vegetables and horse dung at you? Or, less sarcastically, how do you know the thoughts behind the face? How does anybody? It may be, often as not, that since people at random don’t have to have any sort of interchange with you, they might not be ”rejecting” you at all. I read this and wondered if anyone has ever thought I gave them the look you’re describing. Then I started thinking…I grew up thinking that I was ugly…not just ugly but pathetically ugly. I tended to see what I expected to see in people’s eyes. Now, when asked how I perceive my physical appearance, I tend to say I’m plain, but the reality is, I haven’t a clue and rarely do I even think about it… Ay, there’s the rub: if you do not have to think about it, then you’re not ugly.
This is a little too rote for me. ”Ugly” as a functional description is subject to attitudes and biases–like pretty much any other subjective evaluation. I am sure that there are still white people in Mississippi to whom any and all african and african-descended people are irredeemably ”ugly;” but this says more about the beholder than the beholdee. I, on the other hand, cannot fool myself. I am beyond plain, I am ugly. Being disabled to the extent that I am, in short comprising of quite visible deformations on my arms and legs, there is no hiding what I am.
A key point. Perhaps there is then no need to consider yourself as something that needs to be hidden. There is not a street I can walk on, not a counter I can pay my groceries at, or people are staring, or desperately trying not to stare. Especially children, who I of course do not blame, but whose honesty is nonetheless all the more painful.
Yes. I still can’t see the way around this other than changes in YOUR way of looking at the people who are looking at you. It’s not been my experience that the world is full of folks who automatically mutter ”Here comes that ugly guy again.” Some, sure. But most humans achieve at least a familiarity, upon repeated meetings. If you are not gorgeous-looking but you ARE intelligent, well-spoken, polite, and potentially friendly, you might come out ahead on points over the long haul 8). I have had lengthy discussions with my therp about this. My therp says he cannot change the world, and that I am the one who will have to change.
Heh. I just told you the same thing for free. If the staring bothers me, if never having had a girl-friend bothers me, then I am still the one who has to graciously accept it.
Woops. Who said you have to ”graciously” accept anything? You can be royally pissed off and resentful if that’s the way you feel. (Though it doesn’t seem to be doing you a whole lot of good, relatively speaking.) But why? Later, you ask me what is wrong about relationships based on sexuality. I turn on my TV, and I see this commercial: a man in a dry-cleaning shop, surrounded by a beautiful girl, an old fat man, and an obnoxious little kid, and the narrator asking: "Who would you most like to be with?"
Please do not confuse TV with reality–no good ever comes of doing that. Also please do not confuse the elementary manipulations of mass-market advertising with any kind of insight into the lives of people on YOUR intellectual level 8). Obviously, he is hinting to the gorgeous girl. That is what I meant by: "Blatently heraulding the inferiority of people who do not meet your physical standards."
Um, being that life is not a contest (mostly), I fail to see how the mythical chooser’s choosing the beautiful girl acts to destroy the lives of the fat old man and the little kid. If you loaded the question by asking it of another little kid, they might choose the obnxious little kid. If you asked a fat old woman she might well prefer the fat old man 8). Inferiority not implied. What bothers me about that, it that nobody seems to be bothered by that. Everywhere I look, I see people agreeing to the inferiority of ugly people, and they do it without any remorse or shame.
Why should anybody be ashamed of their preferences? Seems like you are hoping that if the general public stops being so superficial and starts giving ”ugly” people more consideration, some level of nobility will have been achieved. (Perhaps with the side benefit that it will seem like more people react to you personally with an unbiased attitude.) But when I bring that up to my therp, he vehemently defends the rights of people to choose whoever they want.
Eh. Moot point. People ”choose” based on a complex range of criteria–much of which is imposed from outside. A hundred years ago the ”choice” profile was a short, hippy, huge- busted young woman with Big Hair and tiny hands and feet. Six foot tall women with muscles as are now so popular would have been branded as ”ugly” the first time they ventured into the light of day. The man even had the audacity to suggest that people take to their own kind, that beautiful people tend to choose beautiful people, and ugly people tend to "choose" ugly people (which is of course a total bull statistic, because the ugly people cannot get any better, and the beautiful people do not settle for less).
You are right about that. (Leaving aside your rather firm underlying conviction that ”ugly” is some kind of disease or condition.) But it’s silly to generalize that beautiful people accept only other beautiful people; I couldn’t count the number of couples I have seen where a conventionally good looking woman is out with a guy who looks like a Far Side character. And to a lesser extent the other way around. Not everybody picks their associates entirely on the basis of looks; suppose looks is all they have? Ugh. My shrink has this beautiful daugter, 16 years of age, and the most popular girl in school. But on mondays she has gym-class, and she gets notoriously picked last when teams are being formed, which is apparently a source of immense discomfort and social stress for her.
Twas ever thus. I submit that the classic social unfairnesses of teens have nothing to do with the rest of this discussion; in that everybody knows that teens are not human, in either the emotional nor the intellectual sense 8). But, being the princess that she is, it only lasts that one hour, until the next week. And I confronted my therp on this. I asked him, "Hey, if your beautiful daughter has to live through a tenth of what I have to experience each and all day for only a few minute moments a week, and really hates it, then why is it okay for her to do to me?"
What is it that she does? Faint? Throw herself out the window? Fling a large bag over you so as to blot out the sight? Why do you contend on the one hand that it is your fate to be ‘’specially” reacted to because of your appearance, and then on the other hand take the reaction so throughly personally? Whatever happened to: "Do unto others as you would like them to do unto you."?
Oh, that old bit of mangled Jewish muttering 8). But his rebuttal is always identical: "My beautiful daughter can choose whoever she wants." And it even sounds right, freedom of choice and all. But her choices are at my expense,
No sir. That does not add up. If it did, then we might make a case for your appearance being at HER expense, which is ridiculous. You are not being ”ugly” in order to hurt people, and they are not reacting in order to hurt you. Hence, no injury, no remorse. and whatever thoughts of consequence may prance around in that pretty little head of hers,
Uh huh. OK for you to patronize HER on the basis of what you imagine she is really like… I am sure that, despite my therapist’s many protestations, the thought must have occured to her, that if she is hurting bad because of even the tiniest of negative physical feedbacks, it must be no picknick for me either. But his point is one of unrelenting sameness: it is not her problem, but yours, and you better get used to it. Of course, he puts it more smoothly, but his buttered tongue cannot cloak the venom underneath.
Scuse me? You frequent a ”venomous” therp? Can’t quite see why you would do that, or continue to do that, given his gratuituously pretty child being shoved up your nose, and his nasty insistence on freedom of thought and reaction. Hominus homini lupus est, Man is man a wolf. Each man for himself. But, Ruby, I will never resign to this. I will accept it no more than a black person should accept his inferiority for not being white. The day I will accept it, is the day I should start worrying.
All fine and good. That’s the spirit. But wouldn’t it lead to more of a payoff to spend less time in other peoples’ minds, looking for unfair attitudes toward you which they may in fact not have at all? – Hide quoted text — Show quoted text – I am okay with this, people like you exist. I am not oblivious to physical attractions myself, of course, but realizing carnality in a carnal world is one thing. Blatently heraulding the inferiority
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A whole bunch of stuff that I don’t have a specific comment on, so I snipped it. – Hide quoted text — Show quoted text – No, Ruby, my real problem is as follows: nobody ever wants to take the blame for their choices: everybody seems free to choose, no matter how that hurts me. I have, so to speak, no "perp" I can blame. I can never externalize my fate, and it is always thrown back at me. I can get mad at Blain, but he pushes it off as a mere projection of mine, and the sad part is, he is not even altogether entirely wrong about it, either. Each man for himself. Having no obvious "perp" to blame, I can never find closure, either. I cannot conquer it, children will always keep staring, and people will always remain "instantly disappointed" in me for something I can never fix: my physical appearance. Perhaps that is what triggered me in Blain’s post: he pronounces his disappointment in Marla so openly, so without remorse, it reminded me again of how my life has always been at the mercy of other people’s willingness to overlook my looks, and the dismally unsuccessful manner I escaped their choices.
Okay, I’m not sure that I’ve pushed everything off as your projection — I’m not going to comment more on what I’ve said because I made a specific response to what you said and I’m happy to discuss what I said in that response if you’d like to discuss them by responding to that post. Actually, I have a fair amount of pain in recalling my experience with Marla — funny that it hurts after all these years. Much of it is embarrassment about my foolishness in raising that expectation and putting that much of myself into a situation I was so unrealistic about in my understanding. The thing that is surprising me is that you have yet to acknowledge that I was also the subject of that look, and that I was the one who was shown the cold-shoulder in preferance for another — I did not reject Marla, she rejected me for a "better offer." I’ve spent a great deal of time and thought the past almost three years on the process of attraction and what it is that I’m attracted to and what exactly that has to do with the sort of person I want to build a relationship with. It’s not been a comfortable process — I have a certain attraction to weakness and vulnerability, because, at a very low level, I wish to be a protector and caretaker. I’m also attracted to strong, capable, intelligent women. I am attracted to different people for different reasons — perhaps different types of people appeal to different parts of me. Some of those reasons are healthier than others. The interesting thing to me has been what I do after that initial reaction of attraction or not — for now, I watch and see and do nothing to pursue anything romantic with anybody and just try to be friendly with pretty much everybody as is appropriate in a certain context. This has allowed me to learn to be a bit more realistic by testing what those initial impressions are against what the realities turn out to be. I’ve found that I can be quite friendly with people I find to be initially visibly attractive at the same time as being quite friendly with those with less visual appeal. This is interesting for perhaps the opposite reasons that you would be thinking — generally the folks I’m comfortable dealing with are the less visually appealing, as I tend to get intimidated by the more visually attractive. I’ve been learning at a deeper level to treat people like people rather than what they appear to be. – Mark
Take care, Blain — and "Dittos, Rush" means 100% agreement, | Whatcom County Young then maybe the mind-numbed robot is you. | Republicans – http:// Listen and find out what they really mean. | www.whatcom.org/yr/
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- Hide quoted text — Show quoted text – And we got along really really well. I was almost 17, Marla was 15 or so. She and Wendi lived in the next town down the road. We were talking about going out and stuff like that. And then she started talking about this other guy named Bill who lived in the same town I did. Bill was a year or two younger than me, and we hadn’t met. So we worked out a way that we could meet each other — Wendi had a huge crush on a friend of mine named Chris, and Chris and I rode bikes the 10-15 miles to the next town to see them. Well, when Marla and I saw each other for the first time, we were mutually instantly disappointed in each other — it was obvious probably to both of us. I’ve never spoken with Marla about the experience (I think I saw her a handful of times after this and never spoke with her about much of anything), but my guess is that we both wanted the other to be really attractive and to fit some fantasy we had built up about each other, and the reality was that we were both a bit too average looking. I have been reading your post with a growing unease as I progressed to each next paragraph. Perhaps what discomforts me the most, is the manner in which you seem to invalidate the value of our collective net-relationships because of your own desilusions. Maybe, and probably more distinctly cause of my annoyance, is the utter empasis on physical appearance. While I feel angry for Marla, I realize that I am primarily projecting. Being a disabled person myself, I have seen that look of yours a thousand times before on a thousand faces: shameless rejection over looks. I am okay with this, people like you exist. I am not oblivious to physical attractions myself, of course, but realizing carnality in a carnal world is one thing. Blatently heraulding the inferiority of people who do not meet your physical standards is an other.
<snip Mark, I don’t think Blain was focusing particularly on looks in this post; I think he was referring primarily to the way people can and do sometimes build up non-IRL relationships to a level where they can be too good to be true, and where a person can project things in them that aren’t there. I had a friendship when I first got on the net with the most depressed guy I’ve ever known. I got caught up in trying to help him, and he ended up clinging to me like I was a life preserver, and telling me that he was in love with me, and talking suicidal. I later learned, after breaking contact with him, that this was a pattern with him. Although he probably meant the things he said to a point, it was step for step the same thing he had done with other women, some of whom had returned his affections, only to find out that IRL, he could not sustain a relationship, that he managed to sabotage them somehow out of some fear of commitment, and they ended up lost in the cold. This man was very sweet, and very helpful, but TOO helpful. He let me wallow; in fact, he actively sought out pain in me before he even knew it was there. He _wanted_ it to be there. I mean, he literally asked me things like, "what are you running from?" and "what is your pain?" out of the blue. In the early times of this relationship, I felt I’d found a soulmate, after decades of feeling that no one really cared. I felt he was the friend I had wished for all of my life. But it turned out to be a disaster. I spent hours every day talking to him, as he revealed his depression to me more and more, and I spent so much time anguishing over the things he was doing to himself; I would type away with tears streaming down my cheeks because I wanted to help him so much. I finally had to start telling other people I couldn’t stand it, and asking them what I should do. I was, by this point, trying to tell the guy that I didn’t want to hear the continual romantic references and vague sexual innuendo, but every time I did, he’d go into some horrible slump, once telling me he’d considered suicide. And if I said I was uncomfortable talking about something, like some sexual thing, he’d get all upset because we were "soulmates" so we should be able to talk about absolutely anything. Finally, I had to just stop talking to him. And it hurt. He sent me several horribly typed emails that sounded so freaked out they scared me. I felt like some evil monster for taking myself out of the picture, but I just couldn’t stand the strain anymore. I’m not saying that this applies to anyone here, but net relationships can be deceiving, and we can deceive ourselves in them. My first friendship on the net was with a guy who decided I had the hots for him, which I didn’t. He decided this on the basis that I was very openly friendly and that when he’d get annoyed with me for whatever reason (usually because I didn’t like his romantic overtures or his sexual innuendo) and decide he was going to stop talking to me, I’d get all upset and practically beg him not to stop being my friend. (I’m rolling my eyes at my cluelessness of the past) I look back now at emails and logs from him and I can’t believe how much crap I took from that guy. But those two friendships were early in my online days, and I’ve learned to get to know people on a more realistic basis, and I have several wonderful online friendships. Getting back to what Blain said, and what seems to have set you off the most, I again don’t think that physical appearance is what he’s focusing on. But you have to admit that people do focus on looks sometimes … even in just minor things like someone might really like blond hair and someone else might really like blue eyes, or beards, or dimples, or whatever. And what one person might find really attractive, other people might be apathetic toward or not like at all. And you seem to not notice that _both_ Blain and Marla were disappointed in each other’s looks. I don’t think it’s particularly horrible to have built up an image of someone in your mind and have them not quite meet your expectations … especially when you’re a teenager. Teenagers ARE more shallow, sometimes, than they are later in life. Do you really consider Blain to be a shallow person, based on his posts? I may not agree with everything he says, but I think he’s an honest, decent man who just had some stuff he needed to get off his chest. I just think he’s saying that the net and other non-physical ways of communicating can build up expectations (physical or otherwise) that maybe can’t be met on an IRL level. And I think that’s very possible. I don’t find that in my net relationships, but I know people who have. Blain certainly wasn’t saying something as superficial as to condemn people for lack of beauty, and I’m sorry that you took it that way. I’m sorry you’ve had the experiences that you’ve had. I don’t know what your disability is, but I know that people do stare or try not to stare at people who have noticeable physical disabilities. You mentioned that the children’s looks hurt you most of all … one of the things that I’ve always found delightful about children is that they’re so frank and so open. For a while. Eventually they learn there are things you’re not supposed to talk about, questions you don’t ask, etc. My son still hasn’t learned this. I was talking to the high school swim coach, who is an amputee with a hook on his prosthetic arm, and my son kept asking him about it, and the coach just ignored him. I felt stupid, and I wished the coach would just *answer* him, would just *say* what happened to his arm. I’ve known that coach for like 10 years, and he’s never said a word about the arm or the hook. Not one word. He doesn’t try to hide it or anything, but it’s just not mentioned. And I think stuff like that happens a lot. In high school, I’d been dating my boyfriend a year before I noticed that one of his friends had no fingers on his left hand. I didn’t notice this until he was playing pool one night; I mentioned it to someone else, and they told me never to say anything about it, because he was very sensitive about it. OTOH, my daughter had a friend last year that has only half-fingers on both hands, and this girl plays volleyball and does all the normal things that kids do, and everyone is cool about the fingers. In fact, they think they’re cool. My daughter actually brought me over to the girl to show me her fingers; I felt silly, but I had to say something, so I asked her if they were a problem in any aspect of her game, which they really weren’t. It felt cool. It was refreshing to be able to talk casually and openly about a birth defect in a person rather than pretend it didn’t exist. I wish things were more like that all over the place. I wish things had been more like that for you, Mark. *hug* Laurie
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oh bruddah. this THIS is = N O T <= real life.
Um, I think I saw that mentioned in Blain’s post. what it basically boils down to is a bunch of people typing their brains out, sometimes to good use sometimes not. it is N O T a safe haven, a sanctuary, a church, someone’s home, etc.
I don’t think Blain intimated that it should be; just that sometimes people look to it to be and that maybe that’s part of why things get so emotional. get over it.
I hate this phrase. It’s dismissive and easy and it implies that people’s feelings are stupid. if you don’t like what you’re reading, just stop reading it. be a grownup. exercise your right to choose.
He is. He exercised his right to talk about what hurts. Sounds pretty grownup to me. And it was an honest, open, non-combative post, too. I’m tired of seeing barbs directed toward people who wish people wouldn’t fight. If the fighters have the right to say what’s on their mind, SO DO THE PEOPLE WHO DON’T LIKE IT. Laurie S.
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speaking of appearances and disabilities, it reminded me of what happened to my husband. he told me about this time, he was meeting a person who is famous locally, was sposed to interview him for the noon news. and my hubby reached out and shook the guy’s hand, and then gasped and jumped back, cuz the guy was missing 3 fingers! it wasn’t that Dave was prejudiced, or disgusted, or anything. he was just so surprised, the feeling of the guy’s hand was so odd, it was just involuntary. he hadn’t noticed it just by looking at the guy. so, even if ppl don’t see something, they can be surprised by it. i asked Dave what happened, what did the guy say? and basically, Dave looked embarassed, the guy just smiled, and they both just chuckled and got on with the interview. i guess, it’s the attitude of both parties involved that determines if it’s a good or bad experience. peace, karmagrrl
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Hi, Blain …
Howdy. In the great tradition of usenet, I’m ignoring all the other responses to your post and wading in to hash out my own stuff. I’m sorry you’re hurting — been there, got the t-shirt, it chafes.
Thanks. And thanks. Only 7% of communication is based on the actual words spoken, which means to me that in the "virtual world," 93% is what I *think* is true about another person. And usually what I think is true is what I want to be true — what I need to be true. When I first found IRC, I thought (being a very confused computer professional) that it was some species of talking to myself. Now, almost three years later, I think that again.
Interesting how that works. I project onto the people I am closest to on IRC the characteristics that I want to see in them — and all the more so was this true for my net.love, now firmly off-line. I miss him with an ache that I suppose will ease in time, but anyone who says that I loved him less because I met him only once is very much mistaken.
Not claiming you loved him less, although I do wonder if you loved him, or someone who looked like him. Well, for me, abandoned — and not because of anything he did or didn’t do as much as because I tend to feel abandoned when the sun goes down.
Wow. You’re good at that. I think also that we (the collective we of your paragraph above) also re-inact our personal abuse history with those closest to us, either IRL or on IRC or wherever, and find again that sad, familiar place of loss and betrayal. And about triggers: that’s why I own mine.
This is a really good point. Thanks on the triggers too. Boundaries are simply horribly hard for most abuse survivors, I think.
Seem to be. For people (speaking for myself) who were permitted *no* boundaries, no privacy, no "mine" (vs. "yours") it’s almost impossible to find that line without a *lot* of work. It *feels* so safe on IRC — I haven’t yet worked out why that’s true.
Funny, because I usually feel a slight sense of impending threat every time I’m on irc. Maybe this is because my main channel (not abuse related) is frequently a combat zone with op fights and general nastiness happening multiple times daily. I like this very (VERY) much. Reality *is* harsh stuff. I much prefer my net.soul-mate to my husband, who is cranky and, frankly, a pain the the fanny a lot of the time. But then, so am I. In my net.love’s eyes, I was (he said) perfect. Yeah, right.
And he doesn’t push his cold feet into your nice warm legs while you’re asleep either. Just a few thoughts. I’m tired, and I’m hurting. Hope things are better now. I hurt about the absence of my net.love pretty much constantly, especially this time of year (since last year this time our love was new and fragile and beautiful beyond words). I wish him well, wherever he is (actually, I know precisely where he is and I’m keeping myself firmly right *here*, thanks).
Things are a bit better in that regard — thanks. Congrats on staying in reality on this one — even though it brings pain to do so. I respect that a lot. You too. Laurels
Thanks, Blain — http://www.pacificrim.net/~blainn/abuse
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: Hi, : Hope you don’t mind me jumping in on this thread. As I was reading : what Ruby was saying about growing up feeling ugly, it really struck a : cord, with me. : I, too, grew up believing that I was an ugly kid, not just ugly, but a : fat, frizzy haired ugly little oinker. It was an awful way to grow : up, never having the support of family, who were constantly lambasting : me for not sticking to whatever diet they had me on, or from friends. : I didn’t have very many of those. ack. me too. i told my sister that i’d always thought she was the pretty one, and she said she’d always thought i was the pretty one. *wry grin* can we say ‘low self-esteem’ boys and girls? i was a smart kid, too. and a kid can never be pretty enough to make up for intelligence. 
: My life has been blessed by the incredible good fortune of falling in : love with a man that sees beauty in everything, but especially, in me. me too. when ted looks at me, i am amazed at the person he sees. : Well, I don’t know about beauty, but I do know that I have seen many a : person that would be labelled as "plain" or even "ugly" that have an : incredible inner beauty that shines forth in the darkest places. And : I’ve seen some pretty gorgeous (on the outside) people that are : nothing but vain, arrogant, and selfish. yup. i remember when i first moved to my new school, i picked out all the really beautiful people and decided that i was going to be friends with those ones. i was going to be part of the popular crowd for a change. *grin* even then i couldn’t stand boring, self-important, fluffheads. so i ended up with the misfits, because they were all so much more interesting. and they weren’t misfits to me, they were just my friends. my first boyfriend ever was craig, an amazing person who happens to have cerebral palsy. he is still one of the most beautiful people i have ever had the honor to know. : Mark, you are not an ugly man. You are kind and gentle, loving and : sweet, you are honest and you look for the best in everyone. Your : inner beauty shines through, to all that know you. Each and every one : of us, a better person for having you in our lives. i want to second, third, and ninth this. i’ve met ugly people, and you are definitely not among them. i know it’s the standard line, beauty being in the eye of the beholder. i know not everyone lives that way. but i do believe that the wisest and warmest people love not in spite of or because of appearance, but simply because a person is lovable. i dunno, it’s late, i’m rambling, but here you go anyhow. silverleaf — — Do not run. We are your friends. *bzort*
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First things first. I think it was a bit unfair of me to blame Blain individually for something that would never have bothered me if it were not a collective problem: the weary fate of the ugly.
[...] Ay, there’s the rub: if you do not have to think about it, then you’re not ugly. I, on the other hand, cannot fool myself. I am beyond plain, I am ugly. Being disabled to the extent that I am, in short comprising of quite visible deformations on my arms and legs, there is no hiding what I am. There is not a street I can walk on, not a counter I can pay my groceries at, or people are staring, or desperately trying not to stare. Especially children, who I of course do not blame, but whose honesty is nonetheless all the more painful.
now Mark, don’t you remember i told you about the flowers? that no two flowers are alike? but do we call the flowers that are different "deformed?" no! we’re *all* just flowers. you are my Mark-flower, and you always will be i’ll be so damn proud to walk beside you in the store, my big brother!! ***hugs*** hey, will ya let me give the finger to the ppl who stare at ya? *wicked grin* as to those children, they’re just the products of their parents and society. a child isn’t born knowing what’s ugly and what isn’t, a child is born curious. i remember thinking that what you call "deformed" people were like interesting clay sculptures, cool because they were shaped differently than i was. i was always curious, wanting to look and touch and ask questions, and my mom encouraged it rather than discouraged it. when we meet, if my lils are around, my lils will prolly drive you insane i know how such prejudices are born in children … my stepsis and me would take my nieces to the mall, we’d encounter a disabled person, and she’d tell the girls "don’t look at them!", or sometimes she’d make fun of them and the kids would hear it. and of course they’d follow their mom’s lead. i had some big fights with my stepsis over that. when i took my nieces out, i taught the girls that everyone is beautiful and we all come in such a wonderful lot of shapes and sizes and colors. they’re Christian, so i told them that when God makes ppl, it’s like he’s playing with clay, and everyone turns out very different, but there are *no* mistakes. they said their mom and grandma had told them that God makes horrible mistakes sometimes, but that they liked my story much better. i only hope i had some lasting influence on those girls, since i’ll never see them again – Hide quoted text — Show quoted text – I have had lengthy discussions with my therp about this. My therp says he cannot change the world, and that I am the one who will have to change. If the staring bothers me, if never having had a girl-friend bothers me, then I am still the one who has to graciously accept it. But why? Later, you ask me what is wrong about relationships based on sexuality. I turn on my TV, and I see this commercial: a man in a dry-cleaning shop, surrounded by a beautiful girl, an old fat man, and an obnoxious little kid, and the narrator asking: "Who would you most like to be with?" Obviously, he is hinting to the gorgeous girl. That is what I meant by: "Blatently heraulding the inferiority of people who do not meet your physical standards." What bothers me about that, it that nobody seems to be bothered by that. Everywhere I look, I see people agreeing to the inferiority of ugly people, and they do it without any remorse or shame. But when I bring that up to my therp, he vehemently defends the rights of people to choose whoever they want. The man even had the audacity to suggest that people take to their own kind, that beautiful people tend to choose beautiful people, and ugly people tend to "choose" ugly people (which is of course a total bull statistic, because the ugly people cannot get any better, and the beautiful people do not settle for less).
*ppppfffffftttttt* i’m what you’d call ugly, i mean, i’m way overweight and still fighting the battle of adult acne on my face. but my husband is a total BABE. (and most of my irc friends know that i am a babe-expert *grin*). ooh grrrrrr, i get so upset when we go out, i hear the whispers (usually women), "what’s HE doing with HER?" sometimes if it’s just me alone, i have to endure barking and "moo-ing" as i walk by a group of teens or young adults. i just ignore them. [...] "Free will, the scene is set, and by design." "Maybe so," I said, "but not by mine." "It will so be: I made My creatures free." "Ay," I sighed, "but who then will choose me?"
karmagrrl jumps up and down "mememememememememe!" *giggle* Fortunately, Ruby, I am not fifteen anymore, and it only takes one person interested in anything other than my body, and, by golly, I found her: Panther. She alone restored all my losses, my faith in humanity, and, above all, the faith in myself.
yayyyyy Panther! woohoo! way to go! *highfive* you two are just SO romantic, i swear, i am going to melt when i meet you for the first time peace and love, karmagrrl
Response:
posted/mailed Hi, Mark I think what you’re addressing is a section of a much broader issue. Being "different". When I grew up, being different meant undesireable…thankfully, that’s changing. Slowly. writes: Hi, Ruby First things first. I think it was a bit unfair of me to blame Blain individually for something that would never have bothered me if it were not a collective problem: the weary fate of the ugly.
I believe beauty is in the eye of the beholder, because the beholder looks for people who have traits that are attractive to them. So, they get to define what’s personally attractive. When I try to evaluate my physical appearance is when I run into trouble. Ugliness…is such a difficult issue. I feel myself wanting to say, "it ain’t so" but that would be a crock. The reality is the real ugliness. Not you, not me, but the real issue behind people being able to victimize someone because they don’t fit into the scale of beauty as defined by their peers (?), society (?), media (?), is the ugly part. Although I am long since past triggered, and you showed a genuine interest far exceeding what my original post deserved, you certainly deserve a careful response in kind.
You put a lot into your original post. There was a lot of heat in it, but there was a tremendous sense of anguish that stirred me. And your honesty…was incredible. Thank you for your reply. I was hoping you would, but I was unwilling to push. I read this and wondered if anyone has ever thought I gave them the look you’re describing. Then I started thinking…I grew up thinking that I was ugly…not just ugly but pathetically ugly. I tended to see what I expected to see in people’s eyes. Now, when asked how I perceive my physical appearance, I tend to say I’m plain, but the reality is, I haven’t a clue and rarely do I even think about it… Ay, there’s the rub: if you do not have to think about it, then you’re not ugly.
I taught myself to not focus on my physical self. When I would start wanting to blend into the woodwork, I reminded myself of the things that I believe are important. And physical characteristics don’t even make the list. The same reasoning I use for most things…what do I believe is important and why are those things important. I, on the other hand, cannot fool myself. I am beyond plain, I am ugly.
I think you have bought into someone else’s ideals. And you are the only one who can decide whether you’re going to keep them or not. Being disabled to the extent that I am, in short comprising of quite visible deformations on my arms and legs, there is no hiding what I am.
Does being disabled = ugly? Or does attracting unwanted attention = ugly? I can empathize on some level because "hiding in plain sight" is an art form that I’ve perfected. And as I’ve learned to stand out (*sigh* the things I do to change), attracting attention has been something that I’m still trying to be more comfortable with. And when people do look closely at me, I wonder how they’re seeing me…then I remind myself not to worry about it. There is not a street I can walk on, not a counter I can pay my groceries at, or people are staring, or desperately trying not to stare.
Lift your chin, meet their eyes and smile at them, Mark. Let them see a little bit of who you show us. You are not a *what*, you’re a *who*. And a damn fine *who* you are. And while you’re at it, see if you can see a bit of *who* they are… If you ran into me on the street, I would probably stare. I do that with anyone who catches my attention, especially if I’m not sure how to approach them. And approaching people is my way of finding out a little bit about *who* they are. Especially children, who I of course do not blame, but whose honesty is nonetheless all the more painful.
Would it help to know what my kids think when they run into someone who is different than all the other people they’ve met? If not, skip the next bit. They’re focus has changed as they’ve grown, but usually they’re looking for what they have in common with people and how different people do different things. I’ve encouraged my kids to approach people (with me) and express their questions…I figure it’s better to know what someone’s thinking than not to know. (I’d recommend finding out what they’re going to ask FIRST before approaching anyone, especially if the child is at that magical age of facination with bodily functions.) I have offended people unintentionally, and I’ve learned to be more cautious about who I approach with my children. Thus far, my youngest is primarily interested in how other people get around. My oldest child’s major focus has surrounded how people do day to day things. Both of my children define the *who* in a person based on things they consider important. The school my children attends has an incredibly diverse population of students, including disabled kids. The students learn about diversity because they live it. I think they’re incorporating the lessons they’re learning well. There are still problems…but the kids are picking up some of the slack. For example, the playground itself isn’t wheelchair accessible, nor is the equipment geared for children who don’t have use of their arms and legs. Yet, I haven’t seen a child in a wheelchair spend recess alone. When I was in school, I don’t remember seeing disabled people. There was one kid who used a magnifying glass to see the blackboard, and he let me try it. He was teased mercilessly…as was I. But I never saw someone in a wheel chair, or using a cane. Disabled people weren’t a part of my reality until I was an adult…which probably has something to do with my focus of exposing my children to diversity. Although, being on the receiving end of racism probably had more to do with wanting my children to understand that people are people. I have had lengthy discussions with my therp about this. My therp says he cannot change the world, and that I am the one who will have to change. If the staring bothers me, if never having had a girl-friend bothers me, then I am still the one who has to graciously accept it. But why?
Because it will help you? Life isn’t fair. You know this, as your poem speaks of it. It’s not fair, it’s never going to be fair. It is, simply, life. By focusing on what I can not change, I further the distance between myself and those I want to reach. And the people I want to reach, are people who will see me for myself. Value me for myself. Love me for myself. And from that base, I can afford to reach out to people who wont/don’t/can’t. Because I’m not reaching from a position of need, I’m reaching to give…to share what other people have shared with me. (And since I’ve also refused gifts from people who wanted to give, I can respect that sometimes I’m going to be refused.) – Hide quoted text — Show quoted text – Later, you ask me what is wrong about relationships based on sexuality. I turn on my TV, and I see this commercial: a man in a dry-cleaning shop, surrounded by a beautiful girl, an old fat man, and an obnoxious little kid, and the narrator asking: "Who would you most like to be with?" Obviously, he is hinting to the gorgeous girl. That is what I meant by: "Blatently heraulding the inferiority of people who do not meet your physical standards." What bothers me about that, it that nobody seems to be bothered by that. Everywhere I look, I see people agreeing to the inferiority of ugly people, and they do it without any remorse or shame.
*nodding* There are people who are working on changing this very thing. And it is changing. But you do have to look for it…and perhaps someday, we wont have to look so hard. But when I bring that up to my therp, he vehemently defends the rights of people to choose whoever they want. The man even had the audacity to suggest that people take to their own kind, that beautiful people tend to choose beautiful people, and ugly people tend to "choose" ugly people (which is of course a total bull statistic, because the ugly people cannot get any better, and the beautiful people do not settle for less).
I know a couple of stunningly attractive people, and Mark, they’re just people. They hurt, just like everyone else hurts. And they get judged at a glance, just like other people. I don’t know about "like choosing like" because most of the people I know are looking for people they can feel good around. People they can let down the day to day mask with and just relax. People who they can relate with and be understood by. In here, people do the same. I gravitate towards people who I feel are moving in the same direction. That doesn’t mean that I interact with everyone that I feel is moving in the same direction, nor does it mean that everyone I interact with is moving in the same direction. And my lack of interaction with someone doesn’t mean that I don’t value/appreciate/enjoy/like them. – Hide quoted text — Show quoted text -My shrink has this beautiful daugter, 16 years of age, and the most popular girl in school. But on mondays she has gym-class, and she gets notoriously picked last when teams are being formed, which is apparently a source of immense discomfort and social stress for her. But, being the princess that she is, it only lasts that one hour, until the next week. And I confronted my therp on this. I asked him, "Hey, if your beautiful daughter has to live through a tenth of what I have to experience each and all day for only a few minute moments a week, and really hates it, then why is it okay for her to do to me?" Whatever happened to: "Do unto others as you would like
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Response:
what you have described here my dear friend is the wonder of the net for me. No one looks any particular way. We are what our thoughts are and how we are able to express them is what we are. I never really thought too much about how people looked, I just accepted my world and who was in it. When I got to the net, I would be surprised at first that someone would describe to me a life of isolation and loneliness because of disability. Usually I would have talked with them a while before this revelation came forth. I would know their words and thoughts, the "them" that is important to me. We live in an age now, where people can present themselves and their thoughts without any consideration given to physical aspects. This has taught me a lot – that the people who I never paid that much attention to in my life or was put off because of their looks have soooo much wonderfulness inside of them. But not for the net, I would have missed this lesson altogether because alas, I probably would have continued to never pay much attention to the people who I have come to enjoy the most. I find myself remembering a song by Bette Middler "Hello in There" now. I stop and visit with all kinds of people in elevators, doctor’s offices, waiting rooms and lines everywhere. I know, really know, that what I see is definitely not even a hint of what I will get if I look further inside and simply say hello. I don’t care what the fuck you look like Mark, you are Mark, my sweet and sensitive net friend, you will have a place in my brain and heart forever. You have taught me a lot here on the net and in the real world, because you and a few others have made me notice and not just walk by, but to stop and say hello and look inside. In a way I believe your therapist is right, what you cannot change you have a choice to deal with or not, you also have a choice on how to deal with it. I would think it would be enormously hard to not be angry and yes that is a choice, but it seems to me that it is a choice you have to make over and over again each time someone bothers to not say hello, but to simply not notice or to stare. If change is made one person at a time, then you have started with this one person. I notice, I don’t look past or stare, I speak, I look inside. I promise you my friend, I will keep doing that. Thank you for giving me this gift. Suzanne – Hide quoted text — Show quoted text – e-mailed and posted Hi, Mark. I didn’t see what you saw in Blain’s post. To me, the filling in the gap thing was more about day to day stuff…like, whether people have a pleasant exchange at the check out counter or whether they bitch about the wait in line, or whether they quietly and efficiently complete their business transaction, kind of thing. (me, I almost always chat for a moment <g). Hi, Ruby First things first. I think it was a bit unfair of me to blame Blain individually for something that would never have bothered me if it were not a collective problem: the weary fate of the ugly. Although I am long since past triggered, and you showed a genuine interest far exceeding what my original post deserved, you certainly deserve a careful response in kind. *thinking* I wonder if anyone here would ever _guess_ that about me. I doubt it. Because I think I’m more of a listener. I like to listen, and a lot of my communication skills are non-verbal. (My therapist and I were talking about this earlier this week.) <snipped part of Blain’s post and attributes on accident all that remains from Blain’s original post. I have been reading your post with a growing unease as I progressed to each next paragraph. Perhaps what discomforts me the most, is the manner in which you seem to invalidate the value of our collective net-relationships because of your own desilusions. Maybe, and probably more distinctly cause of my annoyance, is the utter empasis on physical appearance. While I feel angry for Marla, I realize that I am primarily projecting. Being a disabled person myself, I have seen that look of yours a thousand times before on a thousand faces: shameless rejection over looks. I read this and wondered if anyone has ever thought I gave them the look you’re describing. Then I started thinking…I grew up thinking that I was ugly…not just ugly but pathetically ugly. I tended to see what I expected to see in people’s eyes. Now, when asked how I perceive my physical appearance, I tend to say I’m plain, but the reality is, I haven’t a clue and rarely do I even think about it… Ay, there’s the rub: if you do not have to think about it, then you’re not ugly. I, on the other hand, cannot fool myself. I am beyond plain, I am ugly. Being disabled to the extent that I am, in short comprising of quite visible deformations on my arms and legs, there is no hiding what I am. There is not a street I can walk on, not a counter I can pay my groceries at, or people are staring, or desperately trying not to stare. Especially children, who I of course do not blame, but whose honesty is nonetheless all the more painful. I have had lengthy discussions with my therp about this. My therp says he cannot change the world, and that I am the one who will have to change. If the staring bothers me, if never having had a girl-friend bothers me, then I am still the one who has to graciously accept it. But why? Later, you ask me what is wrong about relationships based on sexuality. I turn on my TV, and I see this commercial: a man in a dry-cleaning shop, surrounded by a beautiful girl, an old fat man, and an obnoxious little kid, and the narrator asking: "Who would you most like to be with?" Obviously, he is hinting to the gorgeous girl. That is what I meant by: "Blatently heraulding the inferiority of people who do not meet your physical standards." What bothers me about that, it that nobody seems to be bothered by that. Everywhere I look, I see people agreeing to the inferiority of ugly people, and they do it without any remorse or shame. But when I bring that up to my therp, he vehemently defends the rights of people to choose whoever they want. The man even had the audacity to suggest that people take to their own kind, that beautiful people tend to choose beautiful people, and ugly people tend to "choose" ugly people (which is of course a total bull statistic, because the ugly people cannot get any better, and the beautiful people do not settle for less). My shrink has this beautiful daugter, 16 years of age, and the most popular girl in school. But on mondays she has gym-class, and she gets notoriously picked last when teams are being formed, which is apparently a source of immense discomfort and social stress for her. But, being the princess that she is, it only lasts that one hour, until the next week. And I confronted my therp on this. I asked him, "Hey, if your beautiful daughter has to live through a tenth of what I have to experience each and all day for only a few minute moments a week, and really hates it, then why is it okay for her to do to me?" Whatever happened to: "Do unto others as you would like them to do unto you."? But his rebuttal is always identical: "My beautiful daughter can choose whoever she wants." And it even sounds right, freedom of choice and all. But her choices are at my expense, and whatever thoughts of consequence may prance around in that pretty little head of hers, I am sure that, despite my therapist’s many protestations, the thought must have occured to her, that if she is hurting bad because of even the tiniest of negative physical feedbacks, it must be no picknick for me either. But his point is one of unrelenting sameness: it is not her problem, but yours, and you better get used to it. Of course, he puts it more smoothly, but his buttered tongue cannot cloak the venom underneath. Hominus homini lupus est, Man is man a wolf. Each man for himself. But, Ruby, I will never resign to this. I will accept it no more than a black person should accept his inferiority for not being white. The day I will accept it, is the day I should start worrying. I am okay with this, people like you exist. I am not oblivious to physical attractions myself, of course, but realizing carnality in a carnal world is one thing. Blatently heraulding the inferiority of people who do not meet your physical standards is an other. I don’t understand this. And I’m concerned that if I ask questions, it’ll feel invasive to you. What I mean is, that I am not oblivious to physical attraction myself. When that narrator in the commercial asked, "Who would you most like to be with?" I knew he meant the beautiful girl, because that was my choice, too — "Mine eye well knows what with his gust is ‘greeing," Shakespeare wrote. But realizing I am not impervious to physical attractions, does not make it right to discriminate other people on it. No, Ruby, my real problem is as follows: nobody ever wants to take the blame for their choices: everybody seems free to choose, no matter how that hurts me. I have, so to speak, no "perp" I can blame. I can never externalize my fate, and it is always thrown back at me. I can get mad at Blain, but he pushes it off as a mere projection of mine, and the sad part is, he is not even altogether entirely wrong about it, either. Each man for himself. Having no obvious "perp" to blame, I can never find closure, either. I cannot conquer it, children will always keep staring, and people will always remain "instantly disappointed" in me for something I can never fix: my physical appearance. Perhaps
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Response:
Hi Buff oh bruddah. this THIS is = N O T <= real life. what it basically boils down to is a bunch of people typing their brains out, sometimes to good use sometimes not. it is N O T a safe haven, a sanctuary, a church, someone’s home, etc.
It seemed to me that the point of Blain’s post was history to reach pretty much the same conclusion that you have stated here. May be wrong, but thats the way I read it. get over it. if you don’t like what you’re reading, just stop reading it. be a grownup. exercise your right to choose.
a lot of history snipped – Hide quoted text — Show quoted text – Stepping back from this process, and trying to form more realistic images of people is hard. Recognizing the limitations of what we really know about folks around here, and keeping boundaries in place regarding what we expect and how much we invest emotionally in people around here are all difficult uncomfortable things. It’s so much more comforting to feel like here is the place, finally, where you are safe, where everybody accepts you and loves you, and where you can be and do what you want to be after all this time. I wish it could be this, but I don’t think it can be for anybody. Reality is harsh stuff. Sometimes it does bite, and sometimes it’s really cool. It’s never as fun as fantasies, an never as terrible as fears. But it always wins because it’s real. I’m not nearly as good at staying in reality as I would want to — I have some readjusting to do myself. But it occurs to me that maybe we can pull some of the nastiness and scorn out of the fighting around here if we simply pull our expectations of closeness back to a more reasonable level. Establishing more realistic boundaries of trust and keeping ourselves safer. Stuff like that. Just a few thoughts. I’m tired, and I’m hurting. Take care, Blain — Subject is considered armed and legged. Persecutors will be violated. http://www.pacificrim.net/~blainn/ My hat says "It’s Irony"
Response:
e-mailed and posted Hi, Mark. I didn’t see what you saw in Blain’s post. To me, the filling in the gap thing was more about day to day stuff…like, whether people have a pleasant exchange at the check out counter or whether they bitch about the wait in line, or whether they quietly and efficiently complete their business transaction, kind of thing. (me, I almost always chat for a moment <g). *thinking* I wonder if anyone here would ever _guess_ that about me. I doubt it. Because I think I’m more of a listener. I like to listen, and a lot of my communication skills are non-verbal. (My therapist and I were talking about this earlier this week.) <snipped part of Blain’s post and attributes on accident all that remains from Blain’s original post.
I have been reading your post with a growing unease as I progressed to each next paragraph. Perhaps what discomforts me the most, is the manner in which you seem to invalidate the value of our collective net-relationships because of your own desilusions. Maybe, and probably more distinctly cause of my annoyance, is the utter empasis on physical appearance. While I feel angry for Marla, I realize that I am primarily projecting. Being a disabled person myself, I have seen that look of yours a thousand times before on a thousand faces: shameless rejection over looks.
I read this and wondered if anyone has ever thought I gave them the look you’re describing. Then I started thinking…I grew up thinking that I was ugly…not just ugly but pathetically ugly. I tended to see what I expected to see in people’s eyes. Now, when asked how I perceive my physical appearance, I tend to say I’m plain, but the reality is, I haven’t a clue and rarely do I even think about it…although when I’m feeling particularly rotten, I think about it. So, there is some thing in me, that equates unattractiveness with unhappiness. To follow this line of thought briefly, if I had to absolutely define what I consider "unattractive", it would come down to "uncared for by oneself". Do you consider yourself unattractive because you’re disabled? (I have a very difficult time with the word "disabled" — my own shit– because imo, I haven’t found anyone who is fully functional. I don’t know that I could even describe what "fully functional" might mean…sheesh, this could get really convoluted.) I don’t doubt that there are people who would consider you to be unattractive because of their own reasons. There have been plenty of people who have considered me unattractive for their own reasons. Not thousands though. I don’t get out that much, and I probably wouldn’t notice anyway. I am not trying to make light of whatever challenges you deal with that I don’t. I am hoping that you’ll help me to understand where I’m not understanding. I am okay with this, people like you exist. I am not oblivious to physical attractions myself, of course, but realizing carnality in a carnal world is one thing. Blatently heraulding the inferiority of people who do not meet your physical standards is an other.
I don’t understand this. And I’m concerned that if I ask questions, it’ll feel invasive to you. That you are "instantly disappointed" in Marla because she was "a bit too average looking," attests to your shallowness, yes, but it is not what aggrevates me.
Aren’t 15 year olds typically shallow about physical attractiveness? Adolescense is a time of tremendous change physically, socially, emotionally and mentally. In my mind it’s comparable to the changes that toddlers go through. But I take exception to where you try and invalidate net-relationships not based on this physical appearance. Your whole post seems to be gathered around one recurring theme: "we are left to fill in the rest of the blanks of what each other are like based on our own imaginations." If you feel that net-relationships lack substance because they lack a physical component, then you are free to express so, but I refuse to have my relationships dragged down by your overtly sexually oriented choices. Instead of invalidating my non-physical relationships, you might consider the possibility that other people value other things in humans.
Umm…I think net relationships _can_ lack substance because of the limited exposure. Or perhaps more accurately, they lack substance for me because I rely heavily on non-verbal clues/cues for confirmation of what people are verbalizing. And I think for people who are relating to me, my unease with using "emoticons" can be confusing. Mark, I don’t see anything wrong with being overtly sexual. Nor do I see where Blain invalidated non-physical relationships or was making choices based on sexuality. I value a lot of different aspects about being human. Including sexual and non-sexual interactions. I am quite wary and that’s something I’ve been actively changing…and I think this is what caught my attention with your post. I feel like you’re responding to Blain from amidst your own struggle with something here. I have met Panther on the net. A wonderful person, who, in your book, should prolly be running away from me screaming because I do not happen to fit your notions on what is supposed to be desirable.
I figured my husband should have run screaming from me…I got really pissed at his brother who suggested the same thing. I also don’t let many people in because I’m afraid they’ll find me incompetent…and I struggle to not correct the errors I make in my posts (which is a bit of progress over they way I wouldn’t send them, or I’d correct them after sending them or I’d just sit mortified and hope that no one noticed.) I don’t fit my own images of what desireable means for *me*. I am getting better at judging myself based on the standards that I judge other people by. What you call a miss, I call the ultimate in relationships: the absence of physicalities.
*sigh* It does minimize a lot of the complications I run into. I have taken little things, like feeling pleasure when my husband stroked my hand one day, and made an incredible big deal about it. I do long for the day when I’ll really *want* to share a moment of tender touching. A quiet, gentle moment of letting someone in to share my whole self with. And perhaps, the vaccuum within my soul would see something new and different and wonderful. Maybe I would even gain the courage to want without reservation, to hope with substance, to bask in the possible, rather than instinctively cowering and spending far too much time and energy into talking myself out of my corner. In here people are thrown back on their bare essence; in here there is no veigning: you are reduced to what you are inside; in here you cannot wiggle your beautiful body to make you more popular, nor can alleged planeness "instantly disappoint" people.
I disagree. I think the key is that here, the beauty is in the eyes of the beholder rings absolute. The beholder being the person writing. And people who are confident in their sensuality come across as sensual sometimes…(generally). What I found in Panther over the net, is not something my eye could even see; the sum and substance of what she is, has no blanks for me to fill in, is not subject to my imagination, and appears before my heart as clearly as my eyes’ inability to notice it.
I think Panther (who I hope doesn’t get offended by this) is one of the more obviously sensual people who post here. She’s also (again, imo) a warm, intelligent and complex person who would probably be very easy to love. I have a lot of respect for Panther, based on what I’ve seen in the ng. I haven’t any idea whether she chats at the check out counter… It is perhaps good to recall what the fox said to the little prince, in "Le petit Prince": It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye. ("On ne voit bien qu’avec le coeur. L’essentiel est invisible pour les yeux." )
*smile* My heart is a pro at decyphering non-verbal communication This makes it easy to glorify each other and make any of us the perfect friend, the sibling we always wished we had, the healthy parent we wished we had, or whatever. This makes for a pretty huge expectation that we don’t state because we don’t even realize we’re doing it. When someone fails to live up to that expectation, or fails to live in the mold we’ve tried to force them into, we feel betrayed. Why are you constantly talking in plural? Speak for yourself, please.
This was something that I struggled with when I first logged on to irc. Still do on some level, actually. That doesn’t negate your point of speaking on a personal level (and one that I’ve done more than a few times…probably done it here too, but I’m too tired to go back and look). I have never tried to force Panther to live in the a mold of serene outward beauty — this is all your own disappointments speaking, and I never tried to make her "the perfect friend". I just saw her for the wonderful woman she is, with all it took to see it: my heart, and I fell in love with her. If you feel betrayed because your net-relationships could not live up to your romantic fantasies, then I can certainly see your disappointments. But perhaps you have not been looking for the rights things then. That is of course not for me to determine, but nor is it your place to arbitrarily invalidate relationships of other people that are based on something else than sexual appeal as their primary foundation. – Mark
Take care, Ruby – Hide quoted text — Show quoted text — For more information about this posting service, contact:
… read more »
Response:
Hi Buff oh bruddah. this THIS is = N O T <= real life.
True. And, yet, it is real. The feelings are real. The people are real. The words are as real as any words ever are. what it basically boils down to is a bunch of people typing their brains out, sometimes to good use sometimes not.
Yes. it is N O T a safe haven, a sanctuary, a church, someone’s home, etc.
True again. It seemed to me that the point of Blain’s post was history to reach pretty much the same conclusion that you have stated here. May be wrong, but thats the way I read it.
These are parts of what I was talking about. get over it.
Get over what? if you don’t like what you’re reading, just stop reading it. be a grownup. exercise your right to choose.
I do that, but what has that to do with what I wrote? Take care, Blain — http://www.pacificrim.net/~blainn/ In the time it takes you to read this sig, somebody somewhere will see a Make Money Fast post for the first time.
Response:
- Hide quoted text — Show quoted text – Well, when Marla and I saw each other for the first time, we were mutually instantly disappointed in each other — it was obvious probably to both of us. I’ve never spoken with Marla about the experience (I think I saw her a handful of times after this and never spoke with her about much of anything), but my guess is that we both wanted the other to be really attractive and to fit some fantasy we had built up about each other, and the reality was that we were both a bit too average looking. I have been reading your post with a growing unease as I progressed to each next paragraph. Perhaps what discomforts me the most, is the manner in which you seem to invalidate the value of our collective net-relationships because of your own desilusions. Maybe, and probably more distinctly cause of my annoyance, is the utter empasis on physical appearance. While I feel angry for Marla, I realize that I am primarily projecting. Being a disabled person myself, I have seen that look of yours a thousand times before on a thousand faces: shameless rejection over looks. I am okay with this, people like you exist. I am not oblivious to physical attractions myself, of course, but realizing carnality in a carnal world is one thing. Blatently heraulding the inferiority of people who do not meet your physical standards is an other.
Okay, let’s straighten things out just slightly and I’ll let the rest of your comments stand — the disappointment was mutual, meaning she was every bit as disappointed in my appearance as I was in hers. I didn’t, as it turns out, reject her over her appearance — she rejected me in favor of Bill. Bill and I later were in an English class together, and seemed to get along okay — we weren’t close. – Hide quoted text — Show quoted text – That you are "instantly disappointed" in Marla because she was "a bit too average looking," attests to your shallowness, yes, but it is not what aggrevates me. But I take exception to where you try and invalidate net-relationships not based on this physical appearance. Your whole post seems to be gathered around one recurring theme: "we are left to fill in the rest of the blanks of what each other are like based on our own imaginations." If you feel that net-relationships lack substance because they lack a physical component, then you are free to express so, but I refuse to have my relationships dragged down by your overtly sexually oriented choices. Instead of invalidating my non-physical relationships, you might consider the possibility that other people value other things in humans.
Of course I was shallow — I was 17. You expected more? We can distinguish between things that are known from face-to-face experiences and sexual experiences, can’t we? My interest in Marla, Cindy and, ultimately, my wife, was not primarily sexual in nature. If anything, it was more romantic in nature — wanting someone to be with, be safe with, belong with, and grow with. I am saying that there are important pieces of information about a person that go well beyond sexual attractiveness which are readily apparent in in-person contact that are simply not available in strictly electronic relationships. Different portions of personality which are available and presented. – Hide quoted text — Show quoted text – I have met Panther on the net. A wonderful person, who, in your book, should prolly be running away from me screaming because I do not happen to fit your notions on what is supposed to be desirable. What you call a miss, I call the ultimate in relationships: the absence of physicalities. In here people are thrown back on their bare essence; in here there is no veigning: you are reduced to what you are inside; in here you cannot wiggle your beautiful body to make you more popular, nor can alleged planeness "instantly disappoint" people. What I found in Panther over the net, is not something my eye could even see; the sum and substance of what she is, has no blanks for me to fill in, is not subject to my imagination, and appears before my heart as clearly as my eyes’ inability to notice it. It is perhaps good to recall what the fox said to the little prince, in "Le petit Prince": It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye. ("On ne voit bien qu’avec le coeur. L’essentiel est invisible pour les yeux." )
I don’t suggest or expect Panther or anybody else to run from you screaming — that’s not what I’m talking about at all. There is a different aspect to strictly electronic relationships that I didn’t address. In addition to our ability (I would say need) to fill in the gaps of what we know about someone (at least in a general way) is the inability to present a complete picture of who we are simply through our fingers. I agree that we present parts of ourselves through this medium that we would not present otherwise, so there is an extra intimacy to this that isn’t available in other places. But there are parts of ourselves which we don’t present as easily here which are obvious in in-person communications. I’m not saying that either in-person or electronic contacts present a perfect or superiour impression of who people are. Rather, I’m pointing out the incompleteness of both with extra attention to the incompleteness of electronic contacts because that’s where we are. This makes it easy to glorify each other and make any of us the perfect friend, the sibling we always wished we had, the healthy parent we wished we had, or whatever. This makes for a pretty huge expectation that we don’t state because we don’t even realize we’re doing it. When someone fails to live up to that expectation, or fails to live in the mold we’ve tried to force them into, we feel betrayed. Why are you constantly talking in plural? Speak for yourself, please.
Ah. I’m the only person who has ever done any of these things ever? Thanks for the isolation attempt. – Hide quoted text — Show quoted text – I have never tried to force Panther to live in the a mold of serene outward beauty — this is all your own disappointments speaking, and I never tried to make her "the perfect friend". I just saw her for the wonderful woman she is, with all it took to see it: my heart, and I fell in love with her. If you feel betrayed because your net-relationships could not live up to your romantic fantasies, then I can certainly see your disappointments. But perhaps you have not been looking for the rights things then. That is of course not for me to determine, but nor is it your place to arbitrarily invalidate relationships of other people that are based on something else than sexual appeal as their primary foundation.
Well, thanks for pointing to this whole aspect of what I wrote that goes well beyond anything I even considered. I’m not sure where the idea that I had the power to validate or invalidate anyone’s relationship came from, anymore than I have any idea where you got the idea that all I’m interested in is sexual appeal. I have no opinion on the nature of your relationship with Panther — I know nothing about it and consider the matter to not be my business one way or the other. – Mark
Take care, Blain — http://www.pacificrim.net/~blainn/abuse/
Response:
I hurt today. Yet again I am watching people I care about carefully slicing each other up with words calculated to hurt as much as possible. And I bleed, a bit, too. And I’m left wondering what is it about this place that this happens over and over and over again. And I think I see some of what’s going on.
Hello Blain. In my more humble opinion, and for whatever its worth, we come to this forum (AAR) with "baggage". Suitcases loaded down with all different sorts of items and emotions. Many of us have had trying times, both in the past and in the present. A desire to have our luggage lost while in transit, is a wish many of share. But back to Earth, we can’t just simply pack things up and put them neatly into the attic. We come here seeking… well, I don’t really know what we seek. But whatever it is, we rarely ever find it. During our quest for that invisible attic, we encounter others, others much like our own selves. Occasionally we hit it off very nicely, occassionally we rub up against others. Then, there are those we just plain aggrovate (vise-versa, too). Recognizing that we "all" will never always get along, is the first step towards harmony within any organization (or forum). We will argue together, cry together, and sometimes, love together. (I prefer the latter) We do all of these things in an attempt to pack away our bags and move foward into a better place. I hope to see you there when you arrive. Many years ago I met a girl on the telephone.
[Text removed only to conserve bandwidth] Just a few thoughts. I’m tired, and I’m hurting.
I heard you thinking… rest now and I hope to take some of that pain away. Happy holidays Blain… everyone else, too! Dennis. Take care, Blain — Subject is considered armed and legged. Persecutors will be violated. http://www.pacificrim.net/~blainn/ My hat says "It’s Irony"
– To respond to this post, simply replace NO_SPAM with nortel. Dennis (Bermy)
Response:
oh bruddah. this THIS is = N O T <= real life. what it basically boils down to is a bunch of people typing their brains out, sometimes to good use sometimes not. it is N O T a safe haven, a sanctuary, a church, someone’s home, etc. get over it. if you don’t like what you’re reading, just stop reading it. be a grownup. exercise your right to choose. – Hide quoted text — Show quoted text – I hurt today. Yet again I am watching people I care about carefully slicing each other up with words calculated to hurt as much as possible. And I bleed, a bit, too. And I’m left wondering what is it about this place that this happens over and over and over again. And I think I see some of what’s going on. Many years ago I met a girl on the telephone. Marla was a friend of a friend named Wendi (and step-sister of another friend, as it turns out). Since we met on the phone, neither of us could see each other, and we had no real knowledge of each other other than our voices and our words. And we got along really really well. I was almost 17, Marla was 15 or so. She and Wendi lived in the next town down the road. We were talking about going out and stuff like that. And then she started talking about this other guy named Bill who lived in the same town I did. Bill was a year or two younger than me, and we hadn’t met. So we worked out a way that we could meet each other — Wendi had a huge crush on a friend of mine named Chris, and Chris and I rode bikes the 10-15 miles to the next town to see them. Well, when Marla and I saw each other for the first time, we were mutually instantly disappointed in each other — it was obvious probably to both of us. I’ve never spoken with Marla about the experience (I think I saw her a handful of times after this and never spoke with her about much of anything), but my guess is that we both wanted the other to be really attractive and to fit some fantasy we had built up about each other, and the reality was that we were both a bit too average looking. Bill and a friend of his came over, and he and Marla got along famously for a while, and, after a few hours of discomfort (during which time Wendi was doing her best to hang all over Chris), we pedalled our way back home. A year or so later I met a girl in the line to a rock concert (Nik Kershaw, for those who care). I was 18, and she was 15 or 16. Cindi lived in Canada. She had a friend named April. James, who I was there with, and I discussed which of the girls we liked better. We both were more interested in April, so I decided to get out of his way and talk to Cindi. So Cindi and I began talking via phone calls (international LD calls, mind you). Regularly. And things were really going well — we got along really well and talked for hours and hours (shudder). We saw each other two times after that. I took her to a dance for one of those times — April came down and she and James sort of paired off a bit, but nothing much happened. Some time after this, James went up and saw Cindi and they slept with each other. A week or two after this, we split up, under the "let’s be friends" umbrella. After a while, she began talking with another friend, and, on a trip down this way, I saw her while she was sort-of going out with the other friend — when she left, I wished her a nice life, which apparently really shook her up. The last I heard from her was when I was up in Canada for a dance that wasn’t too far from where Cindi lived, so I called her at home and talked with her. She ended the conversation asking me not to call again — so much for being friends, huh? And then years went by and I got married and began using computers and calling BBSs and stuff. And I had some on-line friend relationships with some people on a certain BBS. One of them killed herself, and, in respect for her wishes, we came to a dance that the others were at and we danced to a certain song together in memory of her. And we met most of the people from the board. One of the people there was someone I had been having major disagreements with on the board (I know it’s hard to believe I would be having lengthy arguments with anybody, but it’s true nonetheless). After meeting in-person, he started using my age (youth, really) against me in arguments, and shortly thereafter I left the board. A couple years later, I started my own BBS and joined a network which had a tradition of Get Togethers. The board’s been up five years now, and we’ve had GTs on a almost regular basis to the point that most of the people who used this BBS software in this area know each other, and I know a number of people from the Seattle area on the network, including the programming team. And then I got my internet account at school and discovered usenet and mail lists and that brings us to here and now. Through these experiences, I have found that electronic connections between people seem to bring with them a feeling of extra closeness — there are things I’ve spoken about in these types of forums that I haven’t spoken with with many people. Heck, this is an example of that. I think part of it comes from the fact that all we have to go on in learning about each other is words on the screen — even less than Marla and I had to go on with each other. So we are left to fill in the rest of the blanks of what each other are like based on our own imaginations. This makes it easy to glorify each other and make any of us the perfect friend, the sibling we always wished we had, the healthy parent we wished we had, or whatever. This makes for a pretty huge expectation that we don’t state because we don’t even realize we’re doing it. When someone fails to live up to that expectation, or fails to live in the mold we’ve tried to force them into, we feel betrayed. Now we can reform them in the image of the former friend, the nasty sibling or parent we really did have, the former abuser we really did have, and maybe even the abuser of our nightmares who was worse than anything that really happened. Of course, we can also do this with anybody in the group who reminds us of those people anyway, and thus many people find themselves being blind-sided in this group because they’ve triggered someone else with no idea they’ve done it. Stepping back from this process, and trying to form more realistic images of people is hard. Recognizing the limitations of what we really know about folks around here, and keeping boundaries in place regarding what we expect and how much we invest emotionally in people around here are all difficult uncomfortable things. It’s so much more comforting to feel like here is the place, finally, where you are safe, where everybody accepts you and loves you, and where you can be and do what you want to be after all this time. I wish it could be this, but I don’t think it can be for anybody. Reality is harsh stuff. Sometimes it does bite, and sometimes it’s really cool. It’s never as fun as fantasies, an never as terrible as fears. But it always wins because it’s real. I’m not nearly as good at staying in reality as I would want to — I have some readjusting to do myself. But it occurs to me that maybe we can pull some of the nastiness and scorn out of the fighting around here if we simply pull our expectations of closeness back to a more reasonable level. Establishing more realistic boundaries of trust and keeping ourselves safer. Stuff like that. Just a few thoughts. I’m tired, and I’m hurting. Take care, Blain — Subject is considered armed and legged. Persecutors will be violated. http://www.pacificrim.net/~blainn/ My hat says "It’s Irony"
Response:
Blain this is a very thoughtful post with a lot of ideaas worth spending some time thinking about. Thank you – Hide quoted text — Show quoted text – I hurt today. Yet again I am watching people I care about carefully slicing each other up with words calculated to hurt as much as possible. And I bleed, a bit, too. And I’m left wondering what is it about this place that this happens over and over and over again. And I think I see some of what’s going on. Many years ago I met a girl on the telephone. Marla was a friend of a friend named Wendi (and step-sister of another friend, as it turns out). Since we met on the phone, neither of us could see each other, and we had no real knowledge of each other other than our voices and our words. And we got along really really well. I was almost 17, Marla was 15 or so. She and Wendi lived in the next town down the road. We were talking about going out and stuff like that. And then she started talking about this other guy named Bill who lived in the same town I did. Bill was a year or two younger than me, and we hadn’t met. So we worked out a way that we could meet each other — Wendi had a huge crush on a friend of mine named Chris, and Chris and I rode bikes the 10-15 miles to the next town to see them. Well, when Marla and I saw each other for the first time, we were mutually instantly disappointed in each other — it was obvious probably to both of us. I’ve never spoken with Marla about the experience (I think I saw her a handful of times after this and never spoke with her about much of anything), but my guess is that we both wanted the other to be really attractive and to fit some fantasy we had built up about each other, and the reality was that we were both a bit too average looking. Bill and a friend of his came over, and he and Marla got along famously for a while, and, after a few hours of discomfort (during which time Wendi was doing her best to hang all over Chris), we pedalled our way back home. A year or so later I met a girl in the line to a rock concert (Nik Kershaw, for those who care). I was 18, and she was 15 or 16. Cindi lived in Canada. She had a friend named April. James, who I was there with, and I discussed which of the girls we liked better. We both were more interested in April, so I decided to get out of his way and talk to Cindi. So Cindi and I began talking via phone calls (international LD calls, mind you). Regularly. And things were really going well — we got along really well and talked for hours and hours (shudder). We saw each other two times after that. I took her to a dance for one of those times — April came down and she and James sort of paired off a bit, but nothing much happened. Some time after this, James went up and saw Cindi and they slept with each other. A week or two after this, we split up, under the "let’s be friends" umbrella. After a while, she began talking with another friend, and, on a trip down this way, I saw her while she was sort-of going out with the other friend — when she left, I wished her a nice life, which apparently really shook her up. The last I heard from her was when I was up in Canada for a dance that wasn’t too far from where Cindi lived, so I called her at home and talked with her. She ended the conversation asking me not to call again — so much for being friends, huh? And then years went by and I got married and began using computers and calling BBSs and stuff. And I had some on-line friend relationships with some people on a certain BBS. One of them killed herself, and, in respect for her wishes, we came to a dance that the others were at and we danced to a certain song together in memory of her. And we met most of the people from the board. One of the people there was someone I had been having major disagreements with on the board (I know it’s hard to believe I would be having lengthy arguments with anybody, but it’s true nonetheless). After meeting in-person, he started using my age (youth, really) against me in arguments, and shortly thereafter I left the board. A couple years later, I started my own BBS and joined a network which had a tradition of Get Togethers. The board’s been up five years now, and we’ve had GTs on a almost regular basis to the point that most of the people who used this BBS software in this area know each other, and I know a number of people from the Seattle area on the network, including the programming team. And then I got my internet account at school and discovered usenet and mail lists and that brings us to here and now. Through these experiences, I have found that electronic connections between people seem to bring with them a feeling of extra closeness — there are things I’ve spoken about in these types of forums that I haven’t spoken with with many people. Heck, this is an example of that. I think part of it comes from the fact that all we have to go on in learning about each other is words on the screen — even less than Marla and I had to go on with each other. So we are left to fill in the rest of the blanks of what each other are like based on our own imaginations. This makes it easy to glorify each other and make any of us the perfect friend, the sibling we always wished we had, the healthy parent we wished we had, or whatever. This makes for a pretty huge expectation that we don’t state because we don’t even realize we’re doing it. When someone fails to live up to that expectation, or fails to live in the mold we’ve tried to force them into, we feel betrayed. Now we can reform them in the image of the former friend, the nasty sibling or parent we really did have, the former abuser we really did have, and maybe even the abuser of our nightmares who was worse than anything that really happened. Of course, we can also do this with anybody in the group who reminds us of those people anyway, and thus many people find themselves being blind-sided in this group because they’ve triggered someone else with no idea they’ve done it. Stepping back from this process, and trying to form more realistic images of people is hard. Recognizing the limitations of what we really know about folks around here, and keeping boundaries in place regarding what we expect and how much we invest emotionally in people around here are all difficult uncomfortable things. It’s so much more comforting to feel like here is the place, finally, where you are safe, where everybody accepts you and loves you, and where you can be and do what you want to be after all this time. I wish it could be this, but I don’t think it can be for anybody. Reality is harsh stuff. Sometimes it does bite, and sometimes it’s really cool. It’s never as fun as fantasies, an never as terrible as fears. But it always wins because it’s real. I’m not nearly as good at staying in reality as I would want to — I have some readjusting to do myself. But it occurs to me that maybe we can pull some of the nastiness and scorn out of the fighting around here if we simply pull our expectations of closeness back to a more reasonable level. Establishing more realistic boundaries of trust and keeping ourselves safer. Stuff like that. Just a few thoughts. I’m tired, and I’m hurting. Take care, Blain — Subject is considered armed and legged. Persecutors will be violated. http://www.pacificrim.net/~blainn/ My hat says "It’s Irony"
Response:
I hurt today. Yet again I am watching people I care about carefully slicing each other up with words calculated to hurt as much as possible. And I bleed, a bit, too. And I’m left wondering what is it about this place that this happens over and over and over again. And I think I see some of what’s going on. Many years ago I met a girl on the telephone. Marla was a friend of a friend named Wendi (and step-sister of another friend, as it turns out). Since we met on the phone, neither of us could see each other, and we had no real knowledge of each other other than our voices and our words. And we got along really really well. I was almost 17, Marla was 15 or so. She and Wendi lived in the next town down the road. We were talking about going out and stuff like that. And then she started talking about this other guy named Bill who lived in the same town I did. Bill was a year or two younger than me, and we hadn’t met. So we worked out a way that we could meet each other — Wendi had a huge crush on a friend of mine named Chris, and Chris and I rode bikes the 10-15 miles to the next town to see them. Well, when Marla and I saw each other for the first time, we were mutually instantly disappointed in each other — it was obvious probably to both of us. I’ve never spoken with Marla about the experience (I think I saw her a handful of times after this and never spoke with her about much of anything), but my guess is that we both wanted the other to be really attractive and to fit some fantasy we had built up about each other, and the reality was that we were both a bit too average looking. Bill and a friend of his came over, and he and Marla got along famously for a while, and, after a few hours of discomfort (during which time Wendi was doing her best to hang all over Chris), we pedalled our way back home. A year or so later I met a girl in the line to a rock concert (Nik Kershaw, for those who care). I was 18, and she was 15 or 16. Cindi lived in Canada. She had a friend named April. James, who I was there with, and I discussed which of the girls we liked better. We both were more interested in April, so I decided to get out of his way and talk to Cindi. So Cindi and I began talking via phone calls (international LD calls, mind you). Regularly. And things were really going well — we got along really well and talked for hours and hours (shudder). We saw each other two times after that. I took her to a dance for one of those times — April came down and she and James sort of paired off a bit, but nothing much happened. Some time after this, James went up and saw Cindi and they slept with each other. A week or two after this, we split up, under the "let’s be friends" umbrella. After a while, she began talking with another friend, and, on a trip down this way, I saw her while she was sort-of going out with the other friend — when she left, I wished her a nice life, which apparently really shook her up. The last I heard from her was when I was up in Canada for a dance that wasn’t too far from where Cindi lived, so I called her at home and talked with her. She ended the conversation asking me not to call again — so much for being friends, huh? And then years went by and I got married and began using computers and calling BBSs and stuff. And I had some on-line friend relationships with some people on a certain BBS. One of them killed herself, and, in respect for her wishes, we came to a dance that the others were at and we danced to a certain song together in memory of her. And we met most of the people from the board. One of the people there was someone I had been having major disagreements with on the board (I know it’s hard to believe I would be having lengthy arguments with anybody, but it’s true nonetheless). After meeting in-person, he started using my age (youth, really) against me in arguments, and shortly thereafter I left the board. A couple years later, I started my own BBS and joined a network which had a tradition of Get Togethers. The board’s been up five years now, and we’ve had GTs on a almost regular basis to the point that most of the people who used this BBS software in this area know each other, and I know a number of people from the Seattle area on the network, including the programming team. And then I got my internet account at school and discovered usenet and mail lists and that brings us to here and now. Through these experiences, I have found that electronic connections between people seem to bring with them a feeling of extra closeness — there are things I’ve spoken about in these types of forums that I haven’t spoken with with many people. Heck, this is an example of that. I think part of it comes from the fact that all we have to go on in learning about each other is words on the screen — even less than Marla and I had to go on with each other. So we are left to fill in the rest of the blanks of what each other are like based on our own imaginations. This makes it easy to glorify each other and make any of us the perfect friend, the sibling we always wished we had, the healthy parent we wished we had, or whatever. This makes for a pretty huge expectation that we don’t state because we don’t even realize we’re doing it. When someone fails to live up to that expectation, or fails to live in the mold we’ve tried to force them into, we feel betrayed. Now we can reform them in the image of the former friend, the nasty sibling or parent we really did have, the former abuser we really did have, and maybe even the abuser of our nightmares who was worse than anything that really happened. Of course, we can also do this with anybody in the group who reminds us of those people anyway, and thus many people find themselves being blind-sided in this group because they’ve triggered someone else with no idea they’ve done it. Stepping back from this process, and trying to form more realistic images of people is hard. Recognizing the limitations of what we really know about folks around here, and keeping boundaries in place regarding what we expect and how much we invest emotionally in people around here are all difficult uncomfortable things. It’s so much more comforting to feel like here is the place, finally, where you are safe, where everybody accepts you and loves you, and where you can be and do what you want to be after all this time. I wish it could be this, but I don’t think it can be for anybody. Reality is harsh stuff. Sometimes it does bite, and sometimes it’s really cool. It’s never as fun as fantasies, an never as terrible as fears. But it always wins because it’s real. I’m not nearly as good at staying in reality as I would want to — I have some readjusting to do myself. But it occurs to me that maybe we can pull some of the nastiness and scorn out of the fighting around here if we simply pull our expectations of closeness back to a more reasonable level. Establishing more realistic boundaries of trust and keeping ourselves safer. Stuff like that. Just a few thoughts. I’m tired, and I’m hurting. Take care, Blain — Subject is considered armed and legged. Persecutors will be violated. http://www.pacificrim.net/~blainn/ My hat says "It’s Irony"
Response:
