I've noticed over the years that there are a lot of ads for products like Vagisil on TV, especially on American channels. Women are always made to feel that there is something wrong with our bodies. We're supposed to believe nonsense like we smell like tuna and we need to buy special liquids to wash ourselves with to ensure that we don't smell "down there." Guess what; if you smell bad, either you don't bathe or there is something medically wrong with you.
I've also noticed how many ads there are on Canadian TV for special lubricants and condoms that are supposed to cause warmth and tingling for added pleasure. How about creating your own pleasure? If you need the bells and whistles with your lubricants and condoms, I'm guessing you don't have a very good sex life. Apparently, it's not the man's job to turn the woman on; the magic lubricants and condoms are supposed to do that!
Women don't deserve to feel badly about themselves, and they deserve good sex lives. Maybe if more women knew that, things would actually improve.
Friday, October 22, 2010
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Change
It's time for big changes again. In just over a week, I'll be free of something that has been keeping me down, and about three weeks after that, I should be back in my other home on the other side of the world. It's times like this when I wish life had a fast-forward button. October promises to be a month of sighs of relief.
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
When does it get easier?
It's been almost two years since my mom died and it hasn't got any easier for me. I just tear up or start blatantly crying at random moments when something reminds me of her or I spontaneously think of her. For example, on the anniversary of her birthday last August, they were showing her favourite movie, Dirty Dancing, on W. I thought how apt that was and it made me really sad.
I always think about how I wasn't here, and how no one told me she was sick. I spoke to her the weekend before she passed away and everything was normal. When I arrived home on November 7, 2008, it was so hard to listen to everyone here talk about how ill she was and that they kept pressuring her to go to Emergency, because her doctor's office wasn't willing to make an appointment for her. Under my grief, I was so angry. But I'm not the type of person who immediately assigns blame out of anger or frustration; however, in this case, I think my mom was in desperate need of a person of action, like me, and I was on the other side of the planet, completely unaware of what was happening.
During my childhood, it was mostly just my mom and me. No father, no siblings. We had my godmother and my mom's friends, and one of my uncles to a certain extent; that was our extended network. Things weren't idyllic by any means, but I loved my mom. I tried desperately to make her proud of me, and she was the only person whose advice I sought (I talk to people when I have a conflict, but I never seek advice; I'm very independent and determined). I wanted to get emotion and affection from her, but it was incredibly difficult. She was in her own world. She would save all her emotion for silly things, like movies. In real life, she was cold and detached and when she watched TV or movies, she would cry at the happy moments and the sad moments. It was quite something to see for those of us who knew her. As difficult as it was, I accepted her for who she was, as she learned to accept me for who I was.
Her bedroom has not been occupied by either my godmother or me; the furniture and decor are as they were on November 6, 2008, and sometimes, our cat Tigger sits outside the door and looks at it as though she's wondering why her mother isn't there to let her in anymore.
Moving back here was really difficult for me for many reasons, including the fact that I would be living in my mom's house without my mom for the first time. In some ways, being in another country made it easier to deal with her death; I had my partner and her family. This house is so empty. I can imagine what it's like for my godmother when I'm not here, and about a month from now, I won't be for another couple of months.
I miss her so much.
I always think about how I wasn't here, and how no one told me she was sick. I spoke to her the weekend before she passed away and everything was normal. When I arrived home on November 7, 2008, it was so hard to listen to everyone here talk about how ill she was and that they kept pressuring her to go to Emergency, because her doctor's office wasn't willing to make an appointment for her. Under my grief, I was so angry. But I'm not the type of person who immediately assigns blame out of anger or frustration; however, in this case, I think my mom was in desperate need of a person of action, like me, and I was on the other side of the planet, completely unaware of what was happening.
During my childhood, it was mostly just my mom and me. No father, no siblings. We had my godmother and my mom's friends, and one of my uncles to a certain extent; that was our extended network. Things weren't idyllic by any means, but I loved my mom. I tried desperately to make her proud of me, and she was the only person whose advice I sought (I talk to people when I have a conflict, but I never seek advice; I'm very independent and determined). I wanted to get emotion and affection from her, but it was incredibly difficult. She was in her own world. She would save all her emotion for silly things, like movies. In real life, she was cold and detached and when she watched TV or movies, she would cry at the happy moments and the sad moments. It was quite something to see for those of us who knew her. As difficult as it was, I accepted her for who she was, as she learned to accept me for who I was.
Her bedroom has not been occupied by either my godmother or me; the furniture and decor are as they were on November 6, 2008, and sometimes, our cat Tigger sits outside the door and looks at it as though she's wondering why her mother isn't there to let her in anymore.
Moving back here was really difficult for me for many reasons, including the fact that I would be living in my mom's house without my mom for the first time. In some ways, being in another country made it easier to deal with her death; I had my partner and her family. This house is so empty. I can imagine what it's like for my godmother when I'm not here, and about a month from now, I won't be for another couple of months.
I miss her so much.
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