I’ve been thinking a lot about behavioral modification and control. I mean, these are frequent topics for me but they’ve been using a lot of bandwidth lately.
What do I want to be? Who do I want to be when I grow up? Am I allowed to be that person while I am fulfilling the same roles I have always filled for people who will not meet my needs?
I have some friends, at least a few, and many of them are guys. Not all of them. I’m not one of those women who “can’t get along with women”. Which I always hear as “it is easier to manipulate men so I stick with them”. I like and hate everyone equally. At least in terms of group identifiers. I like Christians as much as I dislike some of the dogma associated with the religion. I like guys as much as I hate them. Individuals of course all get their own readings.
“When women say “all men” they hurt the feelings of the nice guys.”
Maybe the nice guys need to learn that when people are writing something they aren’t always writing to and for you. If you can’t handle reading something unless it was specifically written to coax you then you have bigger problems than anyone else can solve for you.
I read a lot of very anti-white writing. I read a lot of people of color who have tremendous chips on their shoulders. They just fucking hate white people. I’m white. Do I feel like I should get defensive and try to get them to prove that they don’t hate *me* because I’m *special*.
Or would that make me a self-involved asshole? Think hard here.
I know more men who are not rapists than I know rapists. By a large margin. That does not mean I should give strangers the benefit of the doubt. Sorry. Even if it hurts your widdle feewings.
I don’t figure out who the predators are by looking at them. I do default to assuming that the less physically attractive someone is the lower the chances they are a successful predator. I am more relaxed around men who seem non-sexual enough.
Which is probably something that causes those men enormous pain in their lives. See how I can’t fucking win? The signals that do signal safety are things that are offensive to really judge.
But even that isn’t full proof. I know better. So I’m paranoid.
I don’t think that most of the men in my life would have the balls to attack me at this stage. I have done my best to develop a somewhat scary reputation and those things spread. Folks who know me are fairly safe. But a lot of my male friends are what I’d call Alpha. They are bossy motherfuckers and by and large that works for them. They don’t get called on it much. They have carved out little lives where they are tyrants and everyone around them does what they say and falls in line and things work out. They aren’t violent or “abusive”. But they will grind on you till you verbally give them what they want. I know a lot of men like this. Only a few women.
These men take a lot out of me. They take as much out of me emotionally and mentally as managing a large group of children. For one person. Seriously–I can manage six kids on a day trip by myself far more easily than I can have a friendly chat with many of my male friends individually.
I’m starting to see that as a problem.
As I get older the needs in my life are becoming more predictable. I have more of a schedule. I’m not always moving. I’m not always adjusting to an entirely new cast of characters. I have added in the home school crowd in the last three years and then a running buddy after that. Otherwise I haven’t been picking up new relationships lately. That’s weird. I have been dusting off older friendships. I have been spreading myself out differently.
Sustainability is more of an issue now. I can’t drop many balls in order to completely adapt to a new environment. That’s a privilege I have lost. I didn’t know it was a privilege when I had it. Now “normal” people make more sense to me. Why they say “I can’t” to so many of the things I propose.
Life is different now. I have to have a very different amount and kind of control. Now it’s a marathon, not a series of sprints.
My running buddy and I have decided that it is more sane (given our life constraints) for us to do a 10k at the beginning of October and a half marathon at the end of November. She thinks we will be walking. I don’t think so. I think our first 10k time was pretty fast. I think we will be able to train up to having my third official half marathon be as fast or faster than the second. We’ll see.
Running with her is fun. She and I have a lot in common. If our lives were more similar I think we would conflict like oil and water. Luckily our life constructs are so entirely different that we don’t have to worry about our (ridiculously firm) opinions getting clashed with. We are both very encouraging of taking up space and what that means. We are both also working on control in a variety of parts in our lives. But very differently so we can talk without feeling judged for how we do it. Our circumstances are entirely different. We need different tactics.
A lady I like and respect says she is thinking of starting a discussion group for women once a month. I would drive to Redwood City for that. I would feel comfortable and safe talking to people that woman would invite. I would be different from most of the people she invites. I may or may not be the emotionally explosive (we’ll see) but I will be able to blurt something, then apologize for tone and rephrase and they will try to hear me. The stakes will be low.
When I get too tired from the emotional labor of translating from my brain into “difficult self-centered man language” (obviously not all men or I wouldn’t be bothering to specify a sub-group) I get really testy and pissy. I take it out on everyone who walks by. I feel brittle and made of glass. Like the slightest lean of an arm on my boundaries might shatter them. Then I withdraw and spend a lot of time crying.
I probably need to pay more attention to who makes me react that way and pull back from all of those relationships. I’m starting to see how the cost is becoming higher than I can pay. I don’t have enough spoons to have to process someone that much. And the only way to get them to stop hammering on you is to keep arguing until you win or meekly say they are right a few times so they will back off.
I’m not fucking letting them win their bullshit arguments. I could start using some variation of “You are being an asshole. Shut the fuck up.” But I don’t think that would go over that well.
My other option is to drop the friendships. Which will result in its own bitterness and trauma. Because life works that way.
Knowing you and being your friend is very hard work. Sometimes I can do it and sometimes I can’t. Being friends with me is very similar, so clearly it isn’t an “only men” thing. But aping this form of masculine behavior (because clearly what the people who object to my attitude are really objecting to is that I am a woman with this attitude–from a man it’s ok) causes me other problems.
Men don’t like losing dominance challenges to women (unless they really like it and that’s a whole different ball of string). Although many men are just flat used to losing dominance challenges and they sort of sigh with resignation and get on with it. The fight has long-since gone out of them.
Then there’s Noah. He neither likes it nor has a desire to deal with it much. We try to solve this by not challenging one another because neither of us appreciate losing dick contests. We have different strengths. Cool. You go be awesome over there and I’ll be awesome over here and we can wave. Both of us are grudging losers. But we don’t hold grudges. And we are willing to be convinced when someone has good data. So it works out.
So clearly not all men suck. Yeah, I get it. But some really do.
I have control over very few things in this life. I sorta have control of my mind and body. I mean, I’m not crazy effective with my body but I’m relatively fit. Not mentally. Oh man. But I get by. My deficiencies exist in ways that I can work around and develop counter-balancing strengths that balance things out. Life works that way.
We aren’t all cookie cutters. Trying to develop the control to just do what others tell you is antithetical to developing the control that allows you really define yourself.
You must pick one or the other. If you want to be obedient, you give up the ability to really judge what you are. Your very essence and priorities and impulses have to be secondary to what someone else wants.
I am not a secondary character.
I have been. I was because I wanted to fully embody what that meant. I wanted to understand it.
Apparently I decided I don’t want to be it. That’s been an interesting process.
I don’t know what my very-argumentative-men friends get from knowing me. I think I need to stop caring. They take so much from me that I don’t have enough left to do what I need to do. That’s not fair to me.
I don’t really care if cut-off culture is “mean”. It is mean of you to come to my house and argue with me for hours such that I spend hours crying. For years.
Why do I accept every friendship on offer?
Because I do. Because I always have. I let people come until they don’t want to come any more. But sometimes they have to put up with me being explosive while they are here because I am just fucking out of cope. Lots of people take that as a sign and never come back.
I drive people away. I don’t do it on purpose. I do it when I lose control. When I can no longer choke down how bitter and angry and violent and hateful I feel.
It doesn’t have to be at the person in the room. Maybe I’m just having a day where I’m heavily processing stuff about my biological family. If I’ve done a lot of very hostile writing that morning the whole day might be off. Then I’ll lose the reins on my tongue. Something that is highly tinged by my ambient hostility will come out. Whoops. I didn’t really mean it. No really, I didn’t mean it. I said it because I’m feeling spiteful and that was twisting the way I think about you. I’m really sorry. I’m really sorry.
Is isolation really the best solution? Just work on cutting people out of my life until I get to the point where I can always control my mouth when I am with people?
When I hear people complain that someone requires them to “walk on egg shells” I hear “I don’t want to have to care about who is listening before I speak”.
Yeah, some people personalize everything they hear and decide that the speaker must be talking about them personally and therefore the speaker hates them and is a Mean Evil Person. Yup, I know.
I read a lot of rabidly anti-white writers. They are fully unapologetic as they rant about how evil they perceive white people to be, yes, all white people.
I read this and I try to understand why they believe what they believe. Why it has come to be unavoidably, undeniably true for them.
Everyone has a story. Their story makes sense for them whether you like it or not.
What kind of control a person has decides a lot about what kind of life they have. How do you teach self-control? Financial control? Work ethic? The ability to be adaptable and able to just make something work with whatever it is you have in front of you? These things are all experiential. You have to do them and make mistakes and learn how to do it right. The younger you start the better.
I confess that I feel a little growing anxiety around Shanna not reading yet. I’m reading dyslexia information with dismay. Most of the markers for a diagnosis of dyslexia involve social problems caused by the social stigma of being slow. I am choosing to just read the development books that say “It’s normal for many children to transpose letters till seven or eight.” I notice. But I’m not “doing anything” to correct her.
Everything I have read says that some children are just not physically ready to read until seven or eight. Their brains are too busy doing other things and when you try to force it, you lose a lot of self-confidence that can’t be gotten back.
I’d rather have Shanna deciding what she should be doing with her time right now. She wants her parents to read to her. She isn’t ready to start reading. Ok. I didn’t start reading until the end of first grade. I didn’t really expect her to be required to start reading before I did even though so many of her little friends read. We know a high number of hyperlexic children.
I need to not look at hyperlexia and think my kid is slow. That’s not rational. Good grief.
Shanna’s comprehension skills are several grade levels higher than her physical ability. Lots of research says that will equalize if she’s given the time and space to live and be and learn what she needs to be learning right now instead of worrying about that.
I read the nay-sayers too. I know the con arguments favor conscription into the systematic learning enclave for the sake of party unity.
I don’t think everyone is the same. And I don’t think that everyone has the same ability to be able to conform. I know what the standards are. My kids are always going to be above and below their peers in varying metrics. People are like that. The hope is that they will come away without the bullying and belittling that exists in public schools for any variation.
I’ve been to a lot of public schools. They are all brutal. Some people get lucky and they are in the middle or they are high in the pack so they do ok by the system.
I don’t think my kids will be in the middle.
I don’t think they will always be high across the board. Ha. Shanna isn’t that coordinated. She makes up for it with tenacity and endurance. She’ll try again. And again. And again.
Sometimes watching her fail at things fills me with awe. She knows it is possible for someone to do this. So even though this hurts (and occasionally out will pop “shit”–I ignore it) she keeps trying. I’ve seen her whack her head dozens of times trying to do something. She did get it right eventually. Stubborn fucker. My kid.
Calli, by contrast, is slightly less persistent but much more initally successful. I’m in trouble. I think Calli stands and watches Shanna’s fuck-ups and learns. She is much more able to figure out how to do something right after Shanna has figured it out. Ha.
School is almost out. We are going to be riding the bikes in the parking lot every day. Side walk learning was just a non-starter. She kept falling into driveways. Lots of scrapes. Lots of not-willing-to-keep-doing-that.
She sees no upside. “But I can already run to all the places you want to ride bikes to. It’ll be fine. I’ll just run along side you.”
Only then I have to go at the speed of your running compared to the speed of bikes. NO.
Calli can outdistance her with a balance bike. It’s pretty impressive to me.
In the last month I’ve had a whole bunch of people ask me “Is Calli tall?” Uhh, I don’t know? For the comparative age she is much taller than Shanna was. She’s wearing size five clothes and she turns four at the end of the summer. I think they are only 5″ apart in height. I don’t know what the average gap is between siblings who are two years apart in age. And I don’t know if Shanna is tall. I haven’t been paying attention to such metrics. I could go look it up. I mean, I am on a forking computer. Shanna is in the 88% and the 24% for weight. Calli is in the 96% for height and 57% for weight.
Holy shit. I guess they are tall. And I was right for perceiving that Calli was on a faster growth curve than Shanna. I think Calli will be the taller adult. That’s my current crystal prediction.
On the last few pediatrician visits we haven’t talked percentiles. I didn’t ask and it didn’t come up. I suppose he isn’t worried so he doesn’t say? He just says, “They are growing well. Good job.” and does a no-touch pat on the head.
Wow. I haven’t looked at percentiles in years. I’m writing it down mostly because this is the only way I will have later record.
Since Calli is by far the more coordinated one we should put her in basketball. Ha. I play more catch with Calli. Shanna has never liked it much. I’ve always tried. She likes “fetch” more than catch. It’s kind of hilarious. She’s happy for the interaction. She’s happy to be met where she is. She doesn’t like having balls thrown at her. But she’s happy to chase one for the fun of it.
I can understand that.
<3
Your kids are really interesting and your brain is fascinating.
I am so damn happy to be developing a friendship with you.
And yeah, if our lives were more similar or if our goals were more similar, I suspect we’d conflict in big ways, but since we are working toward excellence in different spheres, it’s awesome. It’s such a goddamn blessing to have someone strong and powerful and clear in my life, and to be able to talk with them and listen to them.
I suspect this will also be true when we are a bit older and you are working on more non-parenting stuff. So that is awesome. I have many acquaintances, and a large number of friends of friends, but very few honest to good ness friends, and omg you are precious.
I wish I knew why there’d be conflict, and I see some of the roots in the Smurfette trope. There can only be one lady who is a leader. There is really only one girl character who is a player character in any story. And that’s fucked up, because it means fighting over who gets to be real, while they boys are all real and don’t bear that burden. I don’t think I’ve completely rooted that out of my head, and wish I could, but while on the way to doing that, I can work this way, where we are experts and rule in different domains.
It would be so fucking radical and wonderful to be able to love and support each other in a world where there could be more than one lady player character. I’m working toward it, but it’s so hard to do when I don’t even know all the ways my own mind is colonized by this garbage.
And there is so much more to say about this “alpha” male bullshit, but I’m at work…
I am blessed with more than one female friend. I think it can work out just fine. My relationships aren’t always “permanent” but they go on for years. They fade when we can no longer bend out lives to include someone so different. That happens.
OK, my brain is full. This alpha male thing is so much garbage and it makes me so sad to be around it. Because it’s a very common notion and it’s infused the thinking of so many men I know, and yet… it’s bullshit and toxic and not even based on facts.
People aren’t wolves. I’m glad for that. The life of an apex predator on a large territory isn’t my notion of fun.
Wolves aren’t sorted into alpha and stuff. There’s actual research from actual biologists, with actual data. Ya know.
And sweet Jesus, leadership matters, but it isn’t the garbage they serve. There’s a concept in some christian circles called “servant leadership,” meaning that the person who leads is leading out of care for the well being of the whole team. I also see this concept in some of the former marines I know, and it’s a good thing.
These leaders work harder than the whole team, make sure the team is ok, and make sure the team has whatever it takes to succeed. That to me is leadership. Not this chest banging bullshit.
I think about this, because I am becoming a leader. And I don’t want to be a chest banging macho petty tyrant. I want to be someone with a vision who inspires a group of people to execute that vision with me and make something bigger than we could make as individuals.
I am going to run my own firm. I will lead it. I will get us business and we will do projects my reports wouldn’t be able to manifest on their own. And I will be the ultimate one responsible, and the one who makes sure it all gets done. And that is ok.
The real fun will come when I need to bring on board another name partner. There will be a point beyond which the business won’t grow without adding another partner. I will need to do some work to be ready for that. I will always be the founding partner, but adding more name partners will take some adjusting.
I like herding cats more than I like “leading”. On picture day I’m perfectly happy to have the group leader say, “Hey Krissy–go round everyone up.” I respond like a herding puppy. “Ok! *pant* Now I run!”
You will adjust. Baby steps.
Thx! And yes, that is a goal which is likely ten years out (needing to add another name partner to my firm.) So I got time.
‘ “It’s normal for many children to transpose letters till seven or eight.” I notice. But I’m not “doing anything” to correct her.’
Kid A wrote some letters backward as a 5-6 year old; she has gotten past that, just like your sources say.
Supposably more than half of children start out mixing things up sometimes. Ok. 🙂
I *just* found this Unschooling / Reading essay.
http://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/freedom-learn/201002/children-teach-themselves-read
The author has written a number of articles on unschooling, incl two recent surveys of unschooled adults. Haven’t gotten thru them yet, still halfway thru the Reading one.
Though, so far, I think I need to stop saying to Shanna whatever I say that makes her respond with “I _don’t know_ how to read!!” I may have had that response a few times. Okay cutting that out.
Keep in mind that the Unschooling attitudes about reading are sometimes destructive. There are kids who need to be taught. Unschooling is not the Magic 8 Ball of education.
Kids have to be in a rich reading environment to learn how to read, or they don’t.
Also, it’s a survey so it’s self selected.
My guess is 100% of the unschoolers who can’t read haven’t taken this survey. 🙂 (j/k, it was to parents, but still, self selecting bias yeah.)