Discrimination and Height

I hope everyone had a good weekend.

Today’s topic is on a widely covered subject: discrimination.

People discriminate against one another for a variety of reasons: race, gender, political and religious affiliations, etc. With the rise of the #metoo movement, it is becoming increasingly important to share your story and to be cautious in how you treat others.

However, one of the less covered issues is discrimination and height. I have to say I have encountered issues with this more than any of the other forms. It does not seem like a big deal but to those of us who struggle with it, we feel targeted and deserve respect.

I am very short. This is a fact. It is fine to point out my height, make fun of it, or whatever. I can even laugh at myself. This is healthy to be aware and not hide the truth from myself. However, it does become a problem when I am treated as less of a person.

For instance, I go out with friends and get handed a kids menu when the others do not. I even have been on dates with my husband where the host/hostess asked if I needed a kid’s menu or the waiter asked me how school was today.

I call this the curse of the fountain of youth. So many people want to look younger. They buy creams, serums, devices, makeup, clothes, anything to look youthful. This is not an issue until you look so young you think men only date you because they are into children (which is illegal). I know I should not complain, but rather embrace my natural youthfulness. But when one is pushing 30 and still is mistaken for a 12 year old, it becomes an issue.

I understand an honest mistake at first glance. This is okay. When someone keeps on pressing the issue is when I get flustered. One time I was grocery shopping and got asked where my mother was. Another time I was not served at a restaurant. I was also stopped at a movie theater. A MOVIE THEATER for a PG-13 movie. I have seen children that actually look like toddlers be brought into a PG-13 movie. A third time I was stopped by police. Yes, I understand people need to check ID. But how are these preconceived notions any different than racial profiling?

Because not only does this happen but even after I have proof of age, people still act as if I am somehow lying. They just will not and can not believe anyone can look so young.

First, if I had a penny for everytime someone acted incredulous over my age, I would be rich. I might as well start charging like I am some type of circus spectacle; at least then I would benefit from it.

Second, as I mentioned it is okay to be wary of people. This is how humans are and it is important for our safety to make some judgement calls. However, shorter people do need to be treated with respect. If people always treat me as a child even after I provide evidence to the contrary, I feel disrespected. I have a right to be treated with respect and dignity. If not, this hinders my growth as an independent adult.

I do not believe that I have to be treated fairly under all circumstances. I am short, therefore may never be able to play basketball professionally. This is fine with me. I do not expect for others to make exceptions for me.

Losing out on jobs, opportunities to live daily life such as grocery shopping and going to the movies, and the chance to feel free from harm from law enforcement (who should be keeping us safe) are the areas where discrimination is considered unjust.

Outrage is sparked from the media when unjust treatment occurs for people of other races or when a terrible occurrence happens to a female. All I ask is for the same treatment for those of us who may be shorter.

Yes, I look young, yes I may need an extra ID check, but I do not need the comments or incredulous looks that follow. I do not need you to tell me ‘You look so young’, or ‘Are you kidding me? you cant’ be that old?’. Do you think I do not know how I look? Do you think these comments are the first I have heard? No, I did not realize I looked young. No one has EVER told me that before.

I have received these comments my entire life. Yes it is something I have to live with and deal with. I do not want permission to stop the judgement. I just want people to realize how the treatment can impact a person. I want the media to realize that sexual harassment and racial issue are not the only injustices which occur. They will comb through these issues with magnifying glasses and highlight anything that may happen to gain support.

This is not where I am coming from. I may want support, but I do not want every small thing to become an issue. I just want to be able to shop and have a husband without someone staring. I want to live life without fear of comments. I want to go out with friends without them being held up because I need several ID checks and false accusations. Why would a child even attempt to go to a bar? Why would a child kiss a grown man in public? Why would a child have a grocery basket full of grown-up items and even be shopping during a school day?

For now I embrace my status, but the subtleties of childlike treatment on an adult are not limited to these issues. They go deeper in the fact that I have developed dependencies on people because those people try to do everything for me. I have not gained independence so that I can ‘grow up’. I have found myself asking where is an adult many times.

I know people may say that this is a chicken and egg scenario in which if I act this way, that is why I am treated like a child. However, I had a strong sense of self when I truly was a child. This leads me to believe that it is the other way around, that treating me as a child has caused me to develop this lack of independence.

So I plead for everyone to think before you speak. If you must use these comments then at least say them in a way that shows that my appearance is more of a compliment than an insult. Try not to do it in front of friends or others who may get annoyed. Try to do it in a respectful way. And if I have shown proof, then just believe that some of us look young and move on. Do not make a spectacle of it or of me.

And since shaming is not my way, I will say that I need to work on learning to let things run off my shoulder and go with the flow. I need to work on embracing myself and my youthful look.

It still does not hurt to treat others with respect whether it is race or gender or height. I believe that during this time of telling our story to prevent discrimination much has gotten out of hand. But I also believe that if females and other races are able to stir up the pot, then height should be thrown into the mix as well.

So please, continue to give respect each day. Not so that you cater to the other person but so that you can enter your house justified.

Always remember to keep the faith.

-Peg

Hobbies and Husbands

As promised, today will be on the topic of hobbies and husbands.

My husband has several interests that he loves. One such interest is film. He really wants Ingmar Bergman’s cinema for Christmas. In fact, he has an entire wall filled with Criterion collection films.

But this post is not about his perspective. If you go online and read any forum or review, you see film from a critic’s perspective. One thing that is lacking, though, is the take on classic and widely renowned films by a non-critic. This would be me.

So I will write about my husband’s love of film from my own viewpoint.

First, the only thing I know about Ingmar Bergman is that he is a Swedish director. This is the only thing I know. Yes, my husband has shared his love of films with me but I have my own hobbies and have not gotten very far in my film schooling.

I will say I thoroughly enjoyed the Godfather. I did not enjoy the one Kurosawa film we watched. See what I mean. My critiques of film often use the phrase: “This is boring”. To which my husband says boring is not a true criticism. I guess I should be taking my skills of in-depth scientific literature reviews to the screen, but I do not feel like doing more of this work when watching a movie. A movie for me is to be entertained. So, as my husband tries to get me to watch classic cinema, foreign films, and silent movies much to my chagrin, I will continue to educate him on the cheesy chick flick romances, blockbuster hits, and Disney cartoons that may be underrated by critics but enjoyed by the regular viewers who want to be entertained rather than educated.

To this point, I will say instead of rambling on about movies, this post needs a more insightful purpose. To turn introspective, I propose the question why would someone with such a deep love for cinema not want to also marry someone with whom they can express and share this love for cinema?

The deeper meaning here is what defines love. I always ask my husband to tell me why he loves me. He can not seem to come up with a definite answer put into words. I feel that despite a lack of understanding of the great movies, I can share in his love for cinema through an appreciation. I love that he loves these films. I may not enjoy them myself, or at least not enjoy the process of deconstructing them on what makes them great. I can, however, find comfort in the fact that he enjoys this process which makes me like it even more. I find as I continue on, I gather more astute observations about the filmmaking process and I end up sort of ‘joining the club’. I may never be a film snob but I can at least, in a sense, stay at bronze medal status and feel a step above the rest.

So despite our differences in this area, somehow we make love work. I think because of our differences we can find appreciation for things we never understood which makes us better people and better lovers.

Although I may not end up fully in the film world, I may still be converted. So thanks to my husband who still puts up with my ignorance in this area and for showing me that I can support him without being a complete film aficionado.

Do you have a husband with a hobby you don’t understand?

If so, realize you can use this to increase love not destroy it.

As always,

Keep the faith.

-Peg

Why do I write?

I just started this blog this week. I may not have enough followers at the moment or ever. I write for myself.

I struggle with writing every single day. Ever since the 9th grade and my first report was due, I struggled. I do not enjoy writing nor do I purport to be good at it.

So, I write for myself.

Since starting graduate school my professors have said that it is important to write every morning. I went into science because I love the subject but also it had added perks where it did not require many essays. Until graduate school…

I write for myself.

I have to write constantly even though I hate doing so. I hope that even if no one reads my blog, posting will push me to keep going. Just this morning I had to work on an assignment but nothing was coming to mind. I wrote a post and just saying something brought new inspiration and flow, I was able to carry that on to the assignment.

I write for myself.

I hope that I can continue to post daily no matter who reads. First, it will help me to push myself to write. Second, hopefully I can get better. Third, if at least one person is inspired, influenced, touched, helped, encouraged, etc. then I believe it is worth it.

I write for myself but not in a selfish way.

So far I hope you have seen the pattern. My posts will be under the theme  _______ and _________ where there is an influence and an outcome. Stay tuned tomorrow for hobbies and husbands.

So who do I write for?

I write for myself. I write for others. I write for all good things even if it is not to be read.

If a tree falls and no one is there to hear it, does it make a noise?

I will say yes, yes it does.

As always keep the faith

-Peg

 

Loneliness and Facebook

Today I want to talk about a topic that can become quite controversial: social media.

I would like to say first, I used to have a Facebook but I no longer have one.

The hardships that have come from no longer utilizing this social media platform are immense. First, I can no longer view certain local businesses that only rely on Facebook for advertising and business hours.

But perhaps the largest struggle is the stigma that comes with being a social pariah. By not using Facebook I have gotten dirty looks, reprimands, and outright hatred from friends and even family. I am left out of parties and gatherings because they only invite people through Facebook.

So, you say why don’t I just give in and re-activate my Facebook? Why can’t I just conform to society and be a normal person?

The answer to those questions lies in my sanity. You see, struggling with mental health issues means I have a tendency to compare myself to others. Why can’t I be on a fancy vacation like those people? WHY AM I NOT ENGAGED YET? All sorts of feelings going on by constant views of other people.

After my incident with ex-relationships and friends (see my Mental Health and Friends post for the story) I was always getting friend requests or recommended suggestions for those people who had hurt me. On top of that, some of our mutual friends would have posts or pictures with those who had hurt me and it put me into a worse downward spiral.

So I realized I have to cut out this negative influence in my life. I deactivated my Facebook four years ago and never looked back.

Yes, there are issues when I receive judgmental looks and advice from others or when people complain they can’t stay in touch with me (To which I say you have my phone number and address, call or send me a letter). But for the sake of my own health and sanity, I need to be free from the trauma and despair that Facebook would bring.

It not only helps me in enhancing my own image, but also with my husband. He is free to post or follow whomever he chooses and that is the sign of a healthy relationship. My anxiety would take control if I were able to see who he is following and what he is posting, fueling further depression and continuing an unhealthy pattern that could ruin my marriage. So for both of us, I am able to keep in control if I stay away. I feel that the happiness it brings me to not have a Facebook page strongly outweighs the issues I face in society.

After going through intense loss during college, I would say that not only did Facebook make me sad, but it also made me afraid. I was so scared of even seeing the login page with the blue bar at the top and the login and/or signup information. Just seeing someone else sitting next to me viewing or posting brought on panic.

I know this fear stems from the trauma of adding to pain after loss. Seeing the people who had hurt me constantly just reopened the wounds. I know that the best remedy for this is to face your fears and I probably should go back to using Facebook again now that I have been through recovery. But what value has it added to my life? I do not miss it, I have more time, I feel better about myself, and I can weed out the people who truly do not want to connect. Having 800 fake friends for show versus having only two real people who call me regularly; I would take the latter any day.

Now if someone is worse off without Facebook (as I said before, you have an extra layer of rejection without one) then by all means do not feel obliged to get rid of it. It is a useful tool to connect with others when you feel lonely. It just seems that it can also make you feel even more lonely than before. It is definitely a double-edged sword in that way. You have to do what is best for you. For those of us who have pasts that we do not want to come back to haunt us, that we are trying to move on from, and which we want to feel safe and secure while working on building self-esteem, these are the people who need to take a look and see what Facebook is contributing in our lives. If it is not adding anything beneficial and even is creating more unhealthy situations, then it is time to reevaluate your stance. Cut the cord, metaphorically.

If a person has cancer, the typical consensus is to remove the lesion (note I am making a generalization, not ALL cancers are operable). CUT IT OUT! Infected limbs get amputated. You must cut out the negativity in your life. So, as I said, it is OKAY to not conform if that is what you need to become a healthier you.

And for those of you who think you are better off by keeping a Facebook, then by all means keep it. You have to do what is best for yourself. But in the process, do not make the ones who need to cut it out of their lives feel inadequate. Do not fail to invite people just because they have to be sent a separate email. Do not guilt trip them into feeling the pressure to add that negativity back to their lives.

Here is a study that keeps the discussion going:

Holly B. Shakya, Nicholas A. Christakis; Association of Facebook Use With Compromised Well-Being: A Longitudinal Study, American Journal of Epidemiology, Volume 185, Issue 3, 1 February 2017, Pages 203–211, https://doi.org/10.1093/aje/kww189

This study found that Facebook likes, status updates, and clicking links are associated with a decrease of 5%–8% of a standard deviation in self-reported mental health. Although this may not be much of a difference and the measures used are self-reported, it still shows implications of the use of social media on self-perceptions.

So make your own decision. To use or not to use that is the question. It is completely up to you, but it is okay either way. Let us live in peace no matter our choices.

Continue to keep the faith.

-Peg

Mental Health and Friends

I hope everyone is doing well. Welcome to my first post! Bear with me as I am not a writer but would like to share my story:

A rising topic during this current period is on mental health challenges and awareness. So many celebrities are sharing their struggles along with regular people. I am not immune to a mental health challenge either. My story begins at the onset of my social anxiety depression. I hope in sharing my story that it will inspire and help others relate to the daily struggles we face. For those without a realization of what depression entails I hope this will enlighten you and encourage you to treat others as you would have them treat you. Life is never fair but should be able to be lived fully. Without any further ado, the story begins on a cool Thanksgiving eve after two years of turmoil:

After dating a guy who I knew was the one we had discussed marriage for a while now. But soon I noticed a change in him that kept drifting us apart. It was a slow decline but i could tell that the end was near. This was the end of my undergraduate studies and the breakup hit me like a snowstorm. This was my second relationship in a small Christian college and I wondered why I could not seem to keep a man when almost everyone else was married. (Of course now that I am further along, I see this was toxic thinking, but at the age of 20 surrounded by dreams of white dresses and showers of love through an institution put in place by God how else can one feel?)

So after having a mean text sent to me the night before Thanksgiving, I wondered how one could mention they love you and then turn into a completely different person never acknowledging the bond you shared for the past two years, nonetheless taking on the complete opposite of a Christian attitude even in the midst of breaking someone’s heart.

So I was devastated. There are many other details I could mention about how I was feeling, what the actual circumstances were (which I do not even know for sure even now), and how the other failed relationships contributed; however I will not go into these details as they are not pertinent to the true premise of this story.

Understanding the background of a heartbroken almost woman, we can say that I was not in good shape at this point. Of course being heartbroken takes time, but as miserable as I felt (even feeling real pain in my chest and sinking stomach) my mother insisted I needed help. So I was sent to a mental hospital. Of course I was depressed because I was in love and now there was nothing I could do to fix it. Despite others saying it was not bad enough to be institutionalized, I still checked myself in.

I will save the details of the mental health hospital for another post. I was in there a week. After I got out, I spent time finishing up the semester and went onto the holidays. My best friend was getting married six months from then so she called me to take me dress shopping for a bridesmaid dress. I was ready to finally go out with friends again, but here is where the story takes an even darker turn.

The day we were to leave for dress shopping my mom had me take some shoes with me. With shoes in hand, my friend is there to pick me up. We drive for a while and then DO NOT STOP AT THE DRESS STORE. I was confused for a while but then saw the look on my friend’s face as she said, “You’re out.”

What in the world? I have shoes in my hand and we are almost to the dress store. It is like dangling meat in front of a hungry person just to torture them. I was astonished. My friend goes on to say that she can’t have a depressed person in her wedding and mentions that only people who are happy for her need to stand up there with her on the big day. Well I tried to say I was happy for her. I had just posted on her facebook how happy I was. This was the only thing I was looking forward to after a previously miserable month.

So in tears, we drive away with her spouting off all her pre-wedding doubts and me lost in what-just-happened land. But then we did not even go home. On top of this devastating news, she takes me to a coffee shop. So now I have to order coffee while crying uncontrollably. Like what did I do to deserve even more torture than had already happened?

Finally we get home and I walk inside, shoes in my hand like a sad dog with its tail between its legs. My mother was home and could definitely tell something was up. So she goes, “What is going on?” My friend proceeds to tell her that I am no longer in the wedding but we are still invited to come if we would like. We strongly tell her we are not going to still come anymore. My mom is incredulous because she is the one hosting a shower for this girl. My friend goes to hug my mom and she steps away. My friend asked my mom to give her a hug and my mom said she was not giving her a hug and how could she do this to us. So my friend tells my mom about not wanting people who do not support her in the wedding and how we have never supported her. My mom says, I was going to have you a shower I am not sure how that is not supporting you. And then my mom tells my friend to (excuse the language but emphasis is needed) get the hell out of her house.

We slowly ease our way toward the door until my friend finally leaves. She shouts back at us (me specifically) how we need Jesus. That phrase has never left me. I have been going to Christian counseling and continue to keep my faith so I am not sure where the judgement is coming from.

Needless to say to this day I have no idea why this happened to me. Yes, I am not perfect but I never did anything to warrant this kind of treatment. And even if I had done something I did not realize, this deserves a good honest conversation rather than an embarrassing meat dangling experience under false dress shopping pretenses.

I feel that the stigma from the hospital followed me around since then. When I needed my friend the most so we could do girly things and enjoy her wedding, she ran the other way. When I needed her because I was going through a breakup, she never even bothered to mention it to me. The culture I have experienced under my mental health issues has been kick them when they are already down. This is the LAST thing anyone needs or even deserves. If I am not able to be a good friend because of depression then yes it is okay to tell me that, but NO ONE deserves inhuman treatment. I lost my love and my best friend all at the same time. Needless to say my depression got worse after that.

My friend ended up postponing the wedding. I believe she finally got married but not six months after this incident, more like another year. She got through nursing school (how with her lack of compassion I have no idea).

I have been in recovery for a while and its been four years since this incident. I have tried to work on forgiveness. It is not easy. I am still shaken around Thanksgiving every year and knowing this girl is out there treating patients everyday with her attitude makes me upset. But I have to continue to forgive and move forward.

I am now married, and although having bridesmaids was a struggle, I would never do that to anyone. Honestly if I did my husband should run for the hills because I would not be the kind person he thought he was marrying. I am surprised my friend’s husband still chose her after her treatment of others but I guess to each his own.

I have struggled to find friends and let anyone in since then. I have friends from recovery and church but I keep them at a distance for fear of this happening again. I hope no one ever has to endure this type of treatment but if you do realize that you are wonderful. YOU ARE AMAZING.

I am only human so I have thought of retribution so many times. I have to stop myself and say that karma, or mainly the Lord, will bring justice. It is not my place to mess up their lives how they messed up mine even if I think it will make me feel better. I keep waiting on the day when they finally realize what they have done, but I can’t live in the past.

Despite the fact that I still struggle, I have a husband who would do anything for me and parents who always believe in me. Some people do not have even that. I am blessed and maybe one day I can finally be at peace despite knowing the evil that is out there. Until then, I can just share my story and hope it resonates with someone.

 

Afterword: I hope this can spark discussion. If the comments are mean or anything, I will accept responsibility for my part in this controversy. I know relationships take two. I am not completely a victim and I apologize to this friend if they happen to read this even though I do not know what I have done exactly. Weddings bring out the worst in us, but they are not worth losing friends over. Depression and mental health is a struggle and people will judge you, but as long as you are not using it as an excuse, you are justified in who you are. I hope more people can be kind to others and treat others with respect. This does not mean you have to step on eggshells to avoid tough conversations and cater to the person’s every need, but it means treating them with love and gentleness as you would someone who is sick with a physical illness.

I hope the world can become a better place.

Until then keep the faith

-Peg