Excuse me for the late entry today, but I had one hell of a weekend. I had another topic that I wanted to talk about, but this weekend’s brunch conversation got me thinking and feeling a certain kinda way. From previous post, you can say that I wholeheartedly believe that there are no rules to life…well other than living the best way you know how and not treating others like shit (Hard concept for some of y’all, but you’ll learn in time..). For some reason this Sunday, we decide to talk about open relationships. I don’t know one fucking thing about having an open relationship, but since I’m self appointed expert on dating multiple people at the same time, so we’ll say it’s close enough.
“Shaming is a form of social control. It occurs when a person violates the norms of the community, and other people respond by publicly criticizing, avoiding, or ostracizing her”.
Shame has pushed me to keep secrets I shouldn’t have. Still today, there are certain things that I’ve done that I feel shame for. I don’t necessarily regret them, but I do feel ashamed for what was my part in those decisions (I’m pretty sure this sentence doesn’t make sense…). But as I get older, I’ve also noticed that my definition of shame has changed. In my mind, no one feels ashamed until someone makes them feel that way. With every fucking stupid and idiotic stunt I’ve pulled, shame is often the least of my worries. I’m far more concerned about making it home in one piece and without a police escort (not anymore). Some would say that we are currently living in a world where shame is virtually gone. And those “some”, would be the godly people. With social media now being used as a platform to launch anything and everything (don’t think that the irony isn’t lost on me…), you too can be famous by leaking a sex tape or making a YouTube channel displaying your various skills.
I’ve resisted the urge to write about this topic for a while now. Not because I like to make people with children feel bad ( I love and live for that shit) but because what I’m about to write will make me seem selfish, unsympathetic and downright evil (nothing you didn’t already know by coming to this lovely place). I’ve wanted to write about the other side of not wanting children, from those of us who hate kids. Not everyone gives a fuck that little Steven can now stand up and drool all over my knee or that I must hold your newborn because he was just born (I honestly could go the rest of my life never having to hold another fucking infant). For some of us the idea of giving birth or having to give all my money over to a tiny terrorist for the next 18-20 years of my life, doesn’t really sit well.
This is a warning as to what happens to literally thousands, if not millions of women on a daily basis. It’s a story that makes no fucking sense and is currently my reality. Some of you may or may not know that for the last 2 years I’ve been dealing with a stalker. A person that I met once in passing, who has now decided to be an uninvited and unwanted part of life. This person has shown up at my previous place of employment (which I left after a confrontation with him and the police), has shown up at my residence (I moved) and has harassed me in public countless of times. It’s gotten to the point, where I now carry bear spray with me in case I see this depraved fuck coming towards me. I’ve never been one who’s felt helpless or felt the need to hide from anyone. But in the last 2 weeks things have changed. This man now knows where I live (again) and it’s making me nervous. I’ve already had to make some changes in the ways that I live my personal life and I’m running out of patience and options.