"When I go to sleep, I can't count sheep for the white lines in my head" --Bruce Springsteen

Let’s imagine, for a moment, that I prioritize travel. 

I’m actively silencing the voices that say “it’s too expensive” or “that’s not for you.” 

Why the hell not? Why not take the extra $1,000 that sometimes comes in from a well-paid gig and go explore some part of the world? 

Granted, right now I’m prioritizing raising funds for my intimacy direction certification program, and I will always have bills to pay. But I’m daring myself to ask “What would it look like if I prioritized exploring the world?” 

I’m also actively silencing any voices that come from outside of myself, about the dangers of traveling alone. I’m not really worried. Our world looks less like that dumb dumb movie “Taken” than people think, and I’m confident in my ability to navigate potentially dangerous situations safely. (Maybe I shouldn’t be, but I am. *shrug*) 

I also have no qualms about navigating a new city or transportation system by myself, figuring out where to eat, or getting lonely. I’m an introvert and homebody at heart, and most of the things I’d want to do in a foreign place are things that can be done alone–read, wander, eat, write. 

(That said, if anyone I love wants to join me, let’s make plans! We’ll go out dancing!) 

I’ve had wanderlust for a few weeks now. Maybe even months. But I picked up a copy of National Geographic labeled “100 Unforgettable Destinations” and now I’m revisiting my globe-trotter Pinterest board and making lists. 

Amsterdam. 

I’ll bring my tattered copy of “Anne Frank” and my own journal when I visit the place that feels so familiar to me already, see the location of a story that has informed so much of my life. 

Paris. 

An airbnb will probably be cheaper by the month. I’ll find some little place and walk to marketplaces every few days to buy food, sit at cafes and write, visit museums. I’ll eat at an outdoor table with a book in my hands. 

Tahiti. Or Bora Bora? Someplace tropical. 

Because for some reason, I just assume that tropical locations are not for plebes like me? But I don’t need an all-inclusive White Lotus resort experience. Just sun and sand and sea. 

Machu Picchu. 

Apparently it’s a whole-ass PROCESS to get there. But I bet it would be worth it. I’ll stop by the salt flats in Bolivia while I’m nearby. Swing up to the pyramid of Chichen Itza. 

Egypt. 

The pyramids at Giza. Hapshetsut’s palace. Amarna. Karnak. They’ve held me in thrall for as long as I can remember. It seems absurd that I wouldn’t visit them in person at least once. 

England. 

Plays at the West End, and a trip to Stratford-upon-Avon. A pilgrimage for the hopeless theatre kid I am. 

But while I make all these plans, it’s been deeply fulfilling to think back to all of the magical traveling I have gotten to do. Through the generosity of family and friends and happy sets of circumstances, I’ve been able to explore more corners of the earth than some people get to do in their lifetimes. (And I've gotten to do it all with some incredible people!)

I’ve eaten Black Forest gateau in the actual Black Forest of Germany, and explored the fairytale castle of Neuschwanstein, wandered the cobbled streets of towns centuries old.

I’ve strolled the National Mall and wandered past Ford’s theatre, walked through the museum of the home where Lincoln died. 

I’ve snorkeled in Hawai’i and Mexico.  

I’ve climbed ancient ruins in Belize and walked beaches in El Salvador. 

I’ve explored the ruins of ancient Greece, where I ran a footrace in Olympia, had a philosophical discussion in Athens, wandered the alleys of Pompeii, spoke the words of Sophocles’ “Oedipus Rex” at the ancient theatre Dionysus. 

I’ve wandered past Italian families playing soccer on Sunday afternoons to get to the Coliseum in Rome, and I’ve taken a train through Tuscany to stand before Botticelli’s “Birth of Venus” in Florence. I’ve eaten pizza in Naples. 

I’ve walked through the maze of the Grand Bazaar and slipped my shoes off to enter the Hagia Sophia in Instanbul. 

I’ve wandered the French Quarter of New Orleans, jazz music pouring out from every open door, a new pack of tarot cards in my purse. 

I’ve looked up at the Redwoods and looked down into Crater Lake. I’ve hiked slot canyons and hoodoos in southern Utah, and looked up at the stars from the waters of Leigh Lake in Grand Teton National Park. I’ve spent entire summers in Yellowstone. 

I’ve taken a ferry across the San Francisco Bay and taken an elevator to the top of the Empire State Building. 

When I list it out like this, I feel astonishingly lucky. 

So I don’t know what the hell I was thinking, listening to some weird voice that says traveling isn’t for me. It clearly already is for me. I just have to ask myself what it looks like when I make it a priority, instead of something I do when others invite me.  

I guess we’ll find out. 

Loving Our (Imperfect) Bodies

DISCLAIMER: I am not a health professional, for mental or physical health. I have done research and am providing relevant links, and I'm also experienced in advocacy and non-violent communication, which is really the focus of this blog. 

CONTENT WARNING: This blog contains frank discussions of body image and disordered eating, including examples of harmful things that are sometimes said about bodies and examples of negative inner monologues. I invite readers to practice self-care and discretion in reading, and offer the option of skipping the examples written in orange text. 

Image: A dim picture of an empty dressing room, with lighted mirrors.
(via Travel Salem on Flickr) 

Hello my friends! Before I start this blog, I want to be transparent about the fact that for most of my life, I've been thin. My body has grown somewhat in the last several years, and nowadays I've got a bigger and softer tummy and a proper double chin. But I haven't personally experienced a lot of fatphobia or disordered eating or body image issues. This makes it easy for me to stand up and say "Hey, let's all love our bodies!" with very little baggage. But the amount of baggage I have or don't have doesn't have anything to do with my willpower or character. I just got lucky. I won a genetic lottery and got a body type that happens to be valued in my society and a family that doesn't have too many issues around body image. All of us humans have grown up in this culture, and all of us have internalized messages about fat, about age, about appearance. No one should be shamed for how much those messages affect them. For all my positive body talk, I also still have plenty of moments when those messages get to me, too. This blog entry is about why I do my best to consciously undermine those messages, and some practical ideas about how to do it. It's a skill that has to be learned and practiced. 

So! 

Now that more people are vaccinated (for the love of Osiris, if you can get vaccinated but haven't yet, PLEASE GET VACCINATED), we have more opportunities to do live theatre safely! And with that comes something I had literally completely forgotten about: the negative body talk that gets thrown around in women’s dressing rooms. 

I don’t know what happens in men’s dressing rooms, and it’s been a while since I’ve been in a universal dressing room. But I’d like to invite everyone, regardless of the dressing rooms you’re in, to move away from this kind of talk. The last year and a half has further radicalized me into working for all kinds of equity and compassion, and the dressing room is one place where I can do that work. Come join me! 

WHAT IT IS

Negative body talk is any negative comment about your own body, someone else’s body, or bodies in general. It may include comments about weight, shape, age, or appearance. Sometimes negative body talk comes in sneaky forms, like praising people for weight loss, or assigning moral value to certain foods. 

Here are a few examples: 

• “Ugh, this costume makes my butt look huge.” 
• “These crow’s feet around my eyes are driving me crazy.” 
• “I was so bad today. I ate like five cookies.” 
• “Okay, time to put on makeup. Because no one wants to see this face without makeup.” 
• “I’m gonna have to go to the gym for an extra hour to work off that lunch.” 
• “I hate having such tiny boobs!” 
• “I felt so bad for him, trying to do that lift with her.” 
• “You’ve lost so much weight! You look amazing!” 
• “Time to put on my Spanx. Gotta tuck all of these saggy bits in.”
• “These gray hairs look just awful.”  

WHY IT’S IMPORTANT TO SHIFT AWAY FROM IT

(My radicalization is gonna show here…) 

Negative body talk upholds the patriarchy

It’s the patriarchy that says “women are valuable because of their looks.” It’s the patriarchy that says “Men should look a certain way to get women to date them, because that’s where men get their value from.” It’s the patriarchy that says that women’s jobs are to be ornamental, decorative, and make others comfortable. It’s the patriarchy that makes no room for queerness or anything outside of the gender binary. It’s the patriarchy that says only pretty people can be romantic leads. It's the patriarchy that says women's value goes down as they get older. And there’s no inherent truth to any of it. It’s what society teaches us, but we can decide to disregard it. And as more of us disregard it, the less power it has. 

Negative body talk perpetuates the toxic aspects of capitalism

Think about how much money we spend trying to change how we look. I’m all for cool haircuts and tattoos and piercings and sunscreen and yoga studios—those things help us express and care for ourselves. But the only reason women shave their legs is because some guy in the 1920s wanted to sell us razors. The only reason we have so many diet programs is because people want to make money off diet programs. Even though none of them demonstrably work long-term and restrictive eating is always harmful. (Check out The F*ck It Diet for one resource on this.) The diet industry makes an estimated $60 billion a year. Imagine how much good that money could do if we spent it elsewhere. On small businesses. On bail funds. Or hell, on our f*cking bills. And don’t even get me started on the “pink tax.”

Negative body talk is often deeply rooted in racism

This is way complex, and I’m not the best person to speak on this, and many others have spoken about this more eloquently than I have. (Check out this interview with Sabrina Strings on NPR for one example.) But the idea that “thin is the only and best way to be beautiful” is an extraordinarily Western idea, based on white ideals that attempt to separate “superior” bodies from “inferior” bodies. The beauty ideals of other cultures are all so radically different…if we say “Well, being thin and young are the ONLY ways to be beautiful” we’re saying “White colonial ideals of beauty are the only valuable ones.” (Also, your value as a human being doesn’t have anything to do with how you look ANYWAY.) 

Negative body talk perpetuates the fatphobia that plagues the entertainment industry

There is literally no reason for actors to be thin. Because we use our bodies to tell stories, it’s helpful if our bodies are strong and healthy. But the lie that we’ve been fed for so many decades and from so many sources is that fat = unhealthy. And it’s just not…true. (Check out Health At Every Size to learn more). Health can be measured in a few different ways, but generally speaking, the actual science says that weight is not an accurate predictor of health. Lizzo can do cardio while singing and playing the flute for hours at a time in heels, night after night, for months on end. And have you seen Olympic weight-lifters? And also, the BMI is racist and completely useless and was never intended to measure health. So if you’re ACTUALLY worried about health, you don’t need to worry about weight. And as far as storytelling goes, there’s no reason we can’t have a fat Juliet on stage. A fat Elle Woods. A fat Hedda Gabler. LITERALLY NO REASON. If being thin doesn’t mean being healthy, and if you don’t have to be thin to play certain roles, then there’s literally no reason to push ourselves (or each other) to be thin. 

Negative body talk harms those with body image issues and disordered eating

It's difficult to get really accurate statistics, but eating disorders affect AT LEAST 9% of the population. So if you're in a room with 10 people, it's highly likely that at least one of them has experienced some kind of eating disorder, and even likelier that more people in the room have a difficult relationship with food or body image (if not all of them/us). When we make comments about our own weight, or the weight of others, we're adding our voices to the chorus of already loud voices saying "you're not thin enough" or "you'll only be loved if you're thin" or "you're not worthy of love unless you're thin." This is also why it's powerful to not compliment people about weight loss. I personally have multiple friends who have shared that compliments on their weight loss caused their eating disorder to deepen. Or perhaps their weight loss was because of another health issue, and the compliment made their pain feel invisible. In both cases, they were being rewarded with love and acceptance in times when they were very ill. I want to live in a world where we give people love and acceptance regardless of their weight. 

HOW TO UNDERMINE NEGATIVE BODY TALK IN THEATRE DRESSING ROOMS 

(and any other rooms, really)

Okay, so if you're on board with moving away from the negative body talk that perpetuates the patriarchy, toxic capitalism, racism, and myths about health, here are a few ideas of how to do it. 

1. Aggressively compliment yourself. Look at yourself in the full-length mirror and smile at what you see. Exclaim with ecstasy. “Are you seeing this?! Look at these thighs! Look at these curves! Man, I love this gorgeous tummy.” Grab handfuls of your body and jiggle it with joy.
2. Abstain from the “script” when someone says something disparaging about their own appearance. When one person says “Ugh, I hate how this makes my butt look!” the expected response is either “No, it looks great!” or “Well, MY costume makes my tummy look huge.” Both of those responses reinforce the idea that appearance = worth. Which is completely false. Speak up, or change the subject, or abstain. 
3. Give specific compliments that don’t have to do with size. These compliments can have to do with appearance, but think of it as praising the way you’d praise a painting. (“You have such great eyebrows.” “You have such lovely hands.” “Look at your beautiful elegant feet!”) You can also compliment things that don’t have to do with appearance at all, like talent or smarts or interpersonal skills. 
4. Respond to negative body talk with “That’s the patriarchy talking!” or another quippy one-liner of your choice. 
5. Post body positivity quotes/images by the mirror/on the walls. A few of my favorites include "Love Your Tree" from Eve Ensler's The Good Body, some variation of this popular sticker, or this one, and this cross-stitch from my own Etsy shop (shameless plug).
6. Respond with a simple “Hey, this kind of negative body talk isn’t okay with me. Could we please keep it out of this space?” 
7. If the costumes/time period of the show allows, refuse to wear Spanx or other shape wear. 
8. Invite people to explore the ideas behind the fatphobic comment. “Hey, have you ever thought about where those ideas come from?” (This can also be done more pointedly, in the form of “Explain what you mean by that?”)
9. Speak frankly and matter-of-factly about your own body to the costume team (“These jeans are too small for my belly.” “If I wear this skirt, can I also get something to wear underneath so that my thighs don’t get irritated from rubbing together?”)
10. Respond with “Hey, friends. Someone recently pointed out to me that this kind of negative body talk can be rough for folks with eating disorders. So because we never know what the people in the dressing room are going through, I’ve been trying to just refrain from any kind of negative body talk in every dressing room I’m in. Would it be cool if we did that in here?” 
11. Sometimes negative body talk is an attempt to bond with those around us. The desire to connect to our fellow humans is deep and primal! (This is often what's going on when people are following the "script" mentioned earlier in #2.) So work on finding other ways to connect. Tell a funny story about your day, ask people what their favorite part of their day was, bring up an interesting article or YouTube video you recently read, or ask any of these conversation starters. (I always love hearing about people's journeys, so I like to ask "How did you get into theatre?") 

If you have other ideas, feel free to share them in the comments! Now go forth, and practice showing love to your beautiful, imperfect body and help others love theirs! 

Full reviews of things half-finished

***NO SPOILERS INCLUDED; PLEASE DON'T SPOIL IN RETURN***

New Girl (television sitcom) 

I slept on this show for literally a decade, and then A recommended it, and now it’s 2 weeks later and I’m almost done with season 4. I am charmed and delighted by this ensemble-based sitcom. I dismissed this show for so long for a few dumb reasons. One is that I was (am) a hipster with no logic and had this unjustified sense of superiority for “not liking sitcoms.” The other is that I am intimidated by Zooey Deschanel and have an unfounded fear that every straight guy wants me to be her. (That’s probably some internalized misogyny, actually.) But I now adore Zooey’s character Jess, and I’m also deeply in love with Nick Miller. (Crush on TV character = another way I’m currently acting like an 8th grader.) 

Shadow & Bone (series on Netflix) 

I read the “Six of Crows” series last summer, and then devoured the “Shadow and Bone” trilogy a few months later. Leigh Bardugo has become one of my favorite authors. (Strong focus on characters and relationships, good world-building, suspenseful plots, diversity of all kinds!) The Netflix series combines these two separate series into one story. They take place within the same world, but in different timelines, and are really pretty damn completely different. Six of Crows is all “ragtag group of petty thieves pulling off an epic heist” and Shadow and Bone is all “a girl is the answer to a prophecy about destroying the work of dark magic.” Structurally speaking, so far I think they’ve combined the plots fairly well. I think it technically works, but in all honesty, I think some executive at Netflix made a poor choice in slamming these two stories together. Even if you were just thinking as a dirty capitalist, the fan base absolutely exists to get way more mileage out of this world. They could have done literally twice as many episodes and people would have watched the hell out of it. But too late now, Netflix, so I’ll embrace what is and accept these plots being interwoven. I’m a fan of the art direction/design. I think the casting is fairly perfect, with no A-list stars to distract or “carry”—just capable actors doing good work. (Thank GOD this wasn’t made in the 90s, when studio execs would have cast Leonardo DiCaprio as Kaz for the star power and made every character straight and white and neurotypical.) (Also, I hadn’t realized until I watched the first few episodes of the series that I’d been picturing the Darkling looking a lot like David Bowie. Ben Barnes is much better casting.) 

Dear Edward (book) 

I dragged myself through 80% of this book. It had so many good reviews on Goodreads, and it was on so many lists, and I always like stories with multiple intersecting perspectives. Maybe I wasn’t in the right mindset or something, but I found this book to be a BUMMER. A whole lotta focus on trauma. Especially about, and from the perspective of, Edward. I imagine the end of the book is probably uplifting somehow. Finding meaning in the tragedy or whatever. But the discovery of the letters felt sort of trite. It was a “Chicken Soup for the Soul” resolution being set up. I spent most of this book hoping for a final chapter like The Goldfinch’s, but eventually decided I didn’t have the patience to get through the rest of the story to get to it (if it existed). 

The COVID-19 Pandemic (a pandemic) 

I’m mostly including this as a reminder (to myself more than anyone) that the pandemic is not yet over. I got my second shot in early April, and as of Friday, our entire household is vaccinated. Today, I drove past a movie theatre and thought about being able to sit in a darkened room in front of a big screen again and almost cried. I still haven’t eaten IN a restaurant yet, and we’ve had two or three other vaccinated people over, and I just accepted a role in a musical with COVID precautions. So in my corner of the world, things are looking pretty good. Vaccinations are up and infections are down. I still wear a mask when outside the house, but there’s a light at the end of the tunnel. I give the pandemic as a whole zero stars, but I give the current healing Utah curve a solid four and a half. 

Mental Health Life Buoy/Cheat Sheet

Okay, so this blog entry has been in my drafts for…months? Years? Honestly, it would have been more helpful to post this last spring, when we were all reeling from the new pandemic-y world we were living in, but I was also reeling so it’s getting posted now. 

VERY IMPORTANT DISCLOSURE: I AM NOT A THERAPIST. I am not an expert in mental health. I’m sharing the things I’ve learned from years of being IN therapy and living with Major Depressive Disorder, studying brain/nervous system function because I’m a nerd, reading books, and following a bunch of Instagram accounts about mental health. None of this should be considered professional advice. I’m only sharing what is helpful for me, and the reasons behind those things. If you can afford it, I highly recommend speaking with a professional.

I also have to recognize the irony of me posting this at a moment when my own mental health is not great, but whatever. 

Okay. So here’s one of the most helpful things I’ve ever done for my mental health: have a cheat sheet. I’ll share mine, and also a “blank” one for your own use, and you’re welcome to adapt it in any way you see fit! Here are the details on mine, and the reasons behind making it. 

When we’re in crisis, big or small, it’s really hard to think clearly. Our brains are too busy trying to keep us safe/alive to be able to do some higher executive function task like make a list of what we need and then figure out what to do to meet those needs. So in moments of non-crisis, you can pre-make that list and keep it handy for when the crisis moments hit.

I’ve organized mine into linear steps, because most of the time, this “order of operations” works really well for me. Here's my "life buoy"/mental health cheat sheet:

Step One: Breathe. Breathing intentionally and deeply helps calm your nervous system down when you’re feeling anxious or stressed, and definitely won’t hurt if you’re feeling depressed. For me, breathing is a good way to sort of tune back in to the present moment, and primes my brain for whatever else I need to do. 

Step Two: Check in on the basic needs. Have you eaten, slept, and/or moved your body recently? I can’t tell you how many deep emotional crises I’ve had that were basically solved with a snack and a nap. BECAUSE WE ARE ALL TODDLERS. At least I am. And even when the crisis wasn’t SOLVED with a snack and a nap, those things always help shrink the crisis down to a more manageable size. Our brain function is impaired when we don’t eat or sleep, so providing it with those things helps us get the right neurons firing again. As far as moving your body, a 20-minute walk or 10-minute yoga session can also help calm your nervous system. There’s this crazy cool thing where bilateral stimulation (left-right movement) calms the vagus nerve, which sounds woo-woo but is actually true(-woo). If you’re not able to meet those needs for food, sleep, and movement right away, then remind yourself that these things are probably exacerbating whatever crisis is happening.

Step Three: If breathing, snacking, sleeping, and moving aren’t helping quite enough, move on to the more specific needs. Some of the questions and answers on this list are pretty specific to me, but some are more universal. 

Do you feel lonely? Make a connection—send a text or message just to say hi, or have a conversation with a friend. 

Do you feel “anxious attachment” panic? Are you worried that you’ll lose someone, or that they don’t love you enough? Take a few deep breaths, then forge a connection with someone else (a safe person that you feel secure attachment to). 

How long has it been since you’ve been touched? If it’s been a minute, find someone or something to cuddle, or book a massage. 

Is there something that you're avoiding? Try writing in your journal to get to it. You can also try going on a walk to think about it, or doing some visual art about your feelings. 

Do you feel unattractive? Do something to help you feel appreciative of your body. Shave your legs, give yourself a pedicure or manicure, do a face mask, soak your feet, or take a shower/bath.

How are your hormones doing? If you're PMS-ing, that may be affecting your mood.

Are you procrastinating a task? Google Image search an example of the finished product, then tell yourself to do the thing, but you only need to do it for 5 minutes at a time, and then take a 5-minute break. Or "lean in" to figure out why you're procrastinating, then address that reason.

Do you feel ineffective? Accomplish some small thing. Sweep the floor, make the bed, clean the toilet, send the email. Just ONE thing. If you can’t do the one thing, do one thing half-way.

Do you feel overwhelmed? Take a moment to sit down and make a to do list. Remind yourself that you can totally do the things on the list, and that you only have to do them one at a time, and if you have to put a few things off until tomorrow, that’s okay.

Have you waited a few days? Most things work themselves out on their own. Give yourself some time, and then check in again. Practice letting yourself feel the distress without needing to do anything about it.

Step Four: If it turns out that there isn’t anything specific going on, or if you’re not able to fix the circumstances making you unhappy (*cough* pandemic *cough*), or your brain just isn’t making the helpful chemicals, then move on to the go-to self-care activities. Feel free to take suggestions from my list, and add your own! 

• Take a hot shower or bath
• Use the HeadSpace app and do a mindfulness session
• Do some visual art—paint, collage, sketch, photography, cross-stitch
• Read a good book
• Write some poetry
• Take a social media break for at least 24 hours
• Watch a favorite movie or TV show
• Listen to a favorite podcast
• Watch some YouTube videos of cool dances, cute babies, or funny animals
• Genuine laughter: Watch a comedy special or some YouTube bloopers
• Spend time in nature
• Go on an exploratory drive
• Do a puzzle or play a game
• Say some affirmations (“I am valuable, it’s gonna be okay, I am loved and lovable, I will get through this”)
• Masturbate
• Clean or organize something
• Sing (YouTube karaoke or while on a drive)
• Have a big ole cry
• Reach out to trusted loved ones and ask for encouraging words or funny memes
• Make a meaningful connection with a loved one (text, talk, visit)
• Cuddle a friend, significant other, or a pet
• Get a massage

Step Five: Get some professional help. If you’re consistently in “crisis,” or if the crisis is deep enough that none of the other things are helping, turn yourself over to the experts. As a reminder, crisis hotlines aren’t just for those who are contemplating self-harm in the moment—it’s for those who just need some help through whatever’s going on. And sometimes the hospital is the best choice to help get you on your feet again. I stayed in a psychiatric hospital for a few days back in 2017, and it was challenging but truly one of the best things I’ve ever done. It saved my life. Having info on your local psychiatric unit on hand is helpful because if you’re in crisis, you may not be able to think clearly enough to look it all up. 

Important thought that’s not included on the mental health cheat sheet, but that I think is really important: 

There’s a difference between distraction and processing. Both have their place, but it’s really helpful to note which you’re doing, when, and why. Distraction is doing something in your mind/body that helps regulate your nervous system and bring you down to a kind of “stasis.” Sometimes it’s intentionally moving away from whatever the issue is, but for me it’s helpful to think of it as calming yourself enough to process later. Processing is doing something in your mind/body that allows you to work through an issue now. 

I’m learning, much to my dismay, that if something needs to be processed, I can do it now or I can do it later, but it’ll need to be done at some point, and if I don’t do it now, it might affect my relationships and self-worth in the long run, so if I can, I might as well do it now. Even then, I still sometimes need some time to calm down with distraction.

Please feel free to take what works for you from this, and disregard the rest! (And also, please please please remember that I’m not a therapist! I’m only sharing what has been helpful for me. I cannot speak for others, and I definitely cannot speak for the psychological community.) 

Here are a few other resources that have been helpful for me! 

BOOK: “Burnout” by Emily and Amelia Nagosky

BOOK: “The Anxiety and Phobia Workbook” by Edmund Bourne

BOOK: “The Body Keeps the Score” by Bessel van der Kolk

INSTAGRAM: @findmywellbeing

INSTAGRAM: @the.holistic.psychologist

APP: Headspace

APP: Calm Harm

APP: Yoga Studio (by Gaiam)

IDEA: Attachment Theory

And here's a blank version of my print out! It's 11 x 17 inches, because that was a standard printing size that was also big enough to write things clearly and largely enough. 

Now go be well! 

Photo credit Christopher Martin

Looking forward

(photo credit: https://www.flickr.com/photos/dpetrus/)

I have a tendency to look backwards in time. To be fair, this is partly because the past has already been written. I can go back and look at old journal entries and photos and news stories and remember what happened. The future contains all these question marks. And if 2020 has taught me anything, it’s that there are more question marks than I ever thought. 

I do think there’s value in looking backwards now and then. You can remind yourself of things you learned, or see patterns you didn’t notice at the time. And I’m a sucker for nostalgia in general. 

But in this strange time of suspended animation, I find that looking into the past is a little bit painful sometimes. Much of my nostalgia is tinged with faint heartbreak nowadays. I don’t think it will always be that way, but when I find myself looking backwards, it’s with an ache of longing for things that are impossible right now. 

So I’ve decided to look forward to those “impossible” things instead. 

I may not be able to do many of these things for months, or even a year. But here’s what I’m looking forward to in the future. 

I’m looking forward to sitting in an IHOP with my laptop open, writing a blog or a poem or a script. I’ll order a second hot chocolate, and now and then I’ll notice the song that’s playing and smile. I’ll try to avoid getting syrup on my keyboard and will somehow fail, and it will be completely worth it. 

I’m looking forward to having friends over, and laying my head on someone’s shoulder and laying my legs over someone else’s lap. We’ll see each other’s entire faces, and we’ll bump into each other as we go to get another drink or snack from the kitchen. We’ll squeeze a hand or shoulder affectionately as we pass by one another, or mid-conversation. 

I’m looking forward to sitting in an airport, after hurriedly gathering my coat and shoes and laptop from the TSA bins that get re-stacked in that tense chaos. I’ll get a chocolate croissant and some fruit from Starbucks and then go sit by my gate with a book. On the plane, I’ll drink a ginger ale and do part of a crossword puzzle and then fall asleep, and be a little groggy and hungry when I land wherever I’m going. 

I’m looking forward to going to a movie theatre and paying way too much money for a giant bucket of popcorn and a gallon of soda. I’ll consume at least half of it during the 28 minutes of trailers before the movie starts. After the credits, I’ll walk into the parking lot and look up at the sky and the world will seem a little bright after the darkness of the theatre. 

I’m looking forward to standing in line for the Indiana Jones ride at Disneyland, avoiding the diamonds in the floor and hoping one of us gets to sit in the driver’s seat. I’m looking forward to the brackish smell of the Pirates of the Caribbean ride, and churros and lemonade, and my feet being absurdly sore from walking around the parks all day. 

I’m looking forward to sleeping on friends’ couches. To driving a few hours to someone’s house, then talking late into the night, and then being woken up by friends’ children in the morning, wanting to play. 

I’m looking forward to visiting someplace I’ve never been to before. I’ll take the afternoon or evening and wander on my own, with no plan—just exploring whatever I come across. Maybe I’ll walk along a beach in the moonlight, or stumble upon a gallery or historical site, or people-watch at a park. 

I’m looking forward to going to concerts. To being packed into a huge stadium with a stressful amount of people and blissfully yelling lyrics along with whoever’s onstage, or packed into some small venue somewhere where the music is loud enough to make the cartilage in your nose vibrate. 

I’m looking forward to visiting family. To holding the people dear to me, and eating food together, and talking for an hour or two afterwards. I’ll try to be extra helpful with the chores, to make up for all my teenage years spent at rehearsal instead of sweeping the kitchen.   

I don’t think life will ever completely go back to “the way it was.” I kind of hope it doesn’t. I don’t see how it could. But I think all of these experiences that I’ve been thinking about—travel, time with loved ones, communal art—will all be a little sweeter after this time. 

I look forward to finding out. 

You can't choose your race, but you can choose your class

Welcome to the campaign!*

We're playing a long-term game of Dungeons and Dragons here, and if you're new, there are a few things you should know. 

First, we have to function as though there's no Dungeon Master. (Or if there is, we don’t know who they are, but that gets into a whole ‘nother thing, so.) We’re all just going for it with the information we have. 

Second of all, we’re a big group of adventurers with different priorities, but in general, we’re fighting for social justice. We often come together to work on a specific campaign or battle. (For example, right now, in June of 2020, a big group of us is focusing on racial justice.) 

Third of all, unlike real DnD, you don’t have to stick with one class if you don’t want to. You can choose a different class each day, or overlap which class you’re a part of at any given moment. 

Okay! Ready to join? Here are the classes you can choose from: 

Fighters

Probably the largest and most visible class. These are the folks who march, carry signs, attend rallies, who are vocal on social media. 

Barbarians 

Warriors whose rage fuels them to (often violent) action. Throwers of bricks, topplers of statues, and painters of graffiti. They primarily fight for causes by disrupting the economy. These folks are definitely valuable to any cause, although some argue that too many on your team can become a liability. 

Monks and Paladins 

These folks focus on the spiritual and emotional aspects of the fight. These are the psychologists, the writers, the podcasters, and the friends reminding you that it’s okay to take a break. They provide a good balance for the fighters and barbarians. 

Bards 

The artists who use their art to critique the social order and provide hope for those fighting for change. Singers and songwriters, painters and other visual artists, theatre companies, TV and filmmakers, and creative writers. 

Clerics and Druids 

The healers and suppliers. They support the fighters during rallies and protests by providing medical care, food and water, transportation, and protection. This can sometimes be a dangerous job, but their involvement makes a huge difference at large protests. They’re the ones with first aid kits and bottles of water.

Rangers 

These folks are fighting on the fringes, having tough conversations with friends, family members, and acquaintances. Rather than participating directly in rallies and protests, they work to challenge the status quo wherever they are. This work isn’t as visible, but it’s deeply meaningful, and crucial to any social justice movement. 

Rogues 

The folks who use subversive tactics to fight against “enemies” of the movement. The internet group Anonymous is the perfect example. Standard tactics include things like hacking social media hashtags (like when KPop fans started using #WhiteLivesMatter to flood social media with KPop instead of white supremacy), crashing websites, sending memes to surveillance apps/sites to drown out any actual surveillance, and doing otherwise generally “legal” activity to stop immoral activity. 

Casters and Support Casters: Sorcerers, Warlocks, and Wizards 

These folks take direct action through donating, calling representatives, showing up at government meetings, voting, drafting letters, etc. These folks do the work “on the ground” even when there isn’t a protest or news story. Consistent ongoing work is key here, and it’s often most effective when you prepare a specific spell to utilize. 

A Handful of Potential Topics

Time for my bi-weekly 750 words of writing practice. It’s good to have a writing habit. Even if you have no idea what to write about.

In my defense, I HAVE been writing.

It’s just that I’ve been writing OTHER things. Which are either not complete or not for public eyes. I could probably put the finishing touches on that draft of an essay about lying, or the one about how to help when someone is in crisis, or the one about the lessons I’ve learned from love or whatever. It’s just that...

Schitt’s Creek is so good and it just feels like watching eighteen episodes is the right thing for me to be doing tonight?

I don’t know. Maybe I could write something about dog-sitting, about the strange intimacy of living in someone else’s house for a few days. I’m at a new client’s house tonight, with their cuddly chihuahua, their energetic golden lab, and their extremely mercurial cat. (I’m allergic to the cat, but there are meds for that. I’m more concerned about the fact that an hour ago, the cat climbed affectionately onto my computer keyboard and did that cute thing that cats do when they bump their head against something all nuzzly-like, and then ten minutes later, clawed at my ankles and hissed angrily when I walked by it on my way to the kitchen. The owners warned me that the cat was a bit mean, but this unpredictability is alarming.)

Or maybe I could write something about intimacy direction. About how I’m passionate about the strange and fulfilling task of blocking everything from kissing to simulated sex acts onstage in ways that honor actor boundaries. But I’ve already been writing about it endlessly the last few weeks, in everything from resumes and website content to guest blog posts. Is this sounding too much like a shameless plug? Probably. It’s a bit of a shameless plug.

(Yes, Netflix, I’m still watching Schitt’s Creek. You don’t need to automatically pause to ask me that. Again.)

I could write about BYU and the Honor Code, but I’m so tired. I don’t have anything in me to say about it anymore. I hope people already know my stance on this. I hope I’ve spoken enough about this that people know I will stand with my queer brothers and sisters and siblings.

I could write about coronavirus? Maybe? I don’t have much to say except DON’T PANIC. Wash your hands. Be careful if you’re immunocompromised, elderly, or pregnant/nursing. But I promise you don’t need all this bottled water and toilet paper. Why is it bottled water and toilet paper? Hand sanitizer I kind of understand. (Although it should be noted that it should have 60% alcohol in order to be effective against things like coronavirus.) All of this apocalyptic panic IS making me realize that I don’t have good emergency preparedness, but I refuse to address that now. It will only fuel the hysteria.

I could tell the “harrowing” tale of my wrist surgery? Except it isn’t actually harrowing. “I had wrist surgery.” That’s the whole tale. My De Quervain’s tenosynovitis should be completely resolved within 6-8 weeks. The end.

(The cat just came downstairs and is staring at me. I’m feeling deeply uncertain about this…I welcome snuggles, if that’s what is going to happen. And black cats are so cute! I just have no idea if this cat is about to attempt to eat my face, and I’d like to avoid that if at all possible. Okay, the cat is wandering away now.)

A muse in the corner just whispered that I should write about the election, but I DEFINITELY do not have the energy for that. I barely have the energy to experience it. Your suggestion is respectfully declined, muse. Maybe I have some ideas listed in a note on my phone somewhere…

“Documentaries That Changed My Life.” That’s a good one. I used to do way more documentary recommendations on this blog. But my deadline is in two and a half hours and I’m pretty sure I don’t have enough time or energy to go through my huge list of favorite documentaries and write up stuff about each one tonight. I mean, maybe I do, I just don’t want to, because Schitt’s Creek is really good and I have to keep an eye on this volatile cat.

I suppose I could write about how I don’t know what to write about. Or write very briefly and vaguely about a handful of potential blog topics and call it good.

So much past inside my present

PART I: TEN YEARS

I’ve been seeing people posting a cool little summary of the past decade on social media. And it occurred to me that I’ve had a pretty full decade, and I feel really happy looking back on it. I have a handful of socially celebrated “achievements” on this list—school and career things. But I’ve also accomplished a lot of things that were personal goals, or things that I’ve dreamt of for years. And many of them don’t come with particular rewards or accolades. But I love that I did them. So in my long decade summary, I’m including both the things that were a big deal in general (whether accomplishments or just experiences), and the things that were a big deal just to me. So here are the things I accomplished from 2009 – 2019.

Moved back to Rexburg after living and working in California.
Did improv comedy with Comic Frenzy at BYU-Idaho.
Performed an original song at Acoustic Café at BYU-Idaho.
Got married.
Got a Bachelor’s Degree.
Taught English as adjunct faculty at the university level.
Finally got an iPhone.
Visited Honduras, El Salvador, Mexico, Italy, Greece, and Turkey.
Met Mike McCready and attended 2 Pearl Jam concerts.
Moved to Utah.
Got a talent agent.
Worked in public education.
Worked with Stephen Soderberg and Michael Cerberus on an HBO mini series.
Worked with Rob Reiner and Cary Elwes (FIRST TEENAGE CELEBRITY CRUSH) on a film.
Got divorced, and survived the trauma and heartbreak of it.
Got a Master’s degree, which included writing a 143-page thesis.
Lived in seven different places.
Got paid to act.
Played a romantic lead in a comedy.
Performed in 26 full-length theatre productions.
Sound designed 8 full-length theatre productions.
Auditioned over 135 times.
Joined the Improvables Improv Comedy team in Centerville.
Had a speaking role in a Lifetime horror film.
Did 3 commercials.
Did 2 industrials.
Worked as background on 12 film/television projects.
Watched a ton of live theatre, both in New York and in Utah.
Became a company member at An Other Theater Company.
Opened an Etsy shop of subversive cross stitches, which made a little over $1,600 in its first year.
Wrote 655 blog entries.
Upped my dose of antidepressants from 50 mg to 100 mg
Spent 3 days in a psychiatric hospital.
Started working with a therapist to unpack and work through past traumas, and build a toolbox to help me through current and future challenges.
Became an aunt (x4!)
Began a “Sister Blog Challenge.”
Got my first tattoo.
Had a major faith transition.
Worked in a law office.
Worked as a simulation patient at a university medical program.
Started a long-term relationship, post-divorce.
Began training as an intimacy choreographer.
Started directing my first full-length theatrical production.
Got called back for my #1 bucket list dream role of Miss Hannigan in “Annie” (which callback I bombed because I was WAAAYYY in my head and also because I hiked a volcano in Hawai’i, took a red-eye flight back to Utah, showered and changed at home, then drove to Orem and attempted to do the callback with very little sleep or preparation and it was probably the worst callback I’ve ever done in my life).
Started learning how to read tarot cards.
Went on as an understudy for a theatrical performance.

That’s a pretty damn awesome decade.

PART II: FOUR YEARS

I was thinking about how my life has changed since early 2017. I’ve had the occasional sensation of “being on the wrong timeline.” It feels like the end of 2016 sent our universe spinning off into some unfamiliar dimension. But I also feel like I’ve been “leveling up” since being thrown off course. And I feel like each year has a particular theme.

2017: Survival
This was the year of just getting through it. A morally dubious and incredibly un-qualified man was in the highest office of the United States. My marriage of almost seven years was ending. The whole world seemed upside down. So I had to just sort of hibernate for a lot of it. I embraced the self-induced coma. I worked and studied and rehearsed and performed and slept and cried and art journaled and watched a helluva lot of TV.

2018: Distraction
I did like, six overlapping theatre projects during 2018. I didn’t need to be in survival mode quite as much anymore, but I wasn’t quite ready to just be still. I wasn’t quite ready to “do the work” outside of my therapist’s office. Some of the distraction was to avoid feeling and working through things, but some of it was just circumstantial. A new romance is generally pretty distracting, in a good way.

2019: Incubation
This past year, I’ve felt like there are all these little seeds that have been just waiting, growing, getting stronger, getting ready to burst into the light. Things with careers and relationships and friendships and just…life in general. I’ve been preparing, consciously and unconsciously, to take some steps towards some of my mountains.

So I think 2020 will be the year of building. I think it will be when some of these seeds sprout, and some of them may wither and some of them may grow roots. But we’ll see.

I'm excited to see.

What Are You Afraid Of?

I am not afraid of heights, flying, or going to the dentist. But otherwise, the standard list applies. I am afraid of spiders crawling on me with their many legs. Being trapped in an underwater cave. Being untethered from a space craft.

I am afraid of raccoons. You laugh, but when I was in sixth grade, my girl scout camp got SHUT DOWN because there were so many raccoons. They chittered and screeched throughout the entire night, they tore open our tents, they ran over us screaming in our sleeping bags. My resulting childhood phobia has settled into a general dislike, but I still don’t like them. With their weird bodies and their human-like hands.

I am also afraid of feral children. Jungle Book may seem like a cute story, but it really happens. It’s extremely rare, but there are a few documented cases of humans being raised by animals. If they are young enough (around age 2) when they leave human contact, they are never rehabilitated to humanity, never acquiring language or other human behaviors, and in some cases, they escape back into the wild. Google it. WHAT THE HELL.

But to be honest, most of my fears are not Halloween-type fears. They’re different and deeper.

I am afraid that the earth will not recover. I am afraid that we will not be able to create the technology to sustain our species in time. I am afraid of the (continued) casualties as sea levels rise, as temperatures rise, as forests burn. I am afraid of my own feelings of powerlessness.

I am afraid of no one showing up for the party. I’m afraid that if I ever threw one for myself, people would be too busy, and that everyone would opt out and not come and not realize how much it meant to me.

I’m afraid anytime someone says “We need to talk.” I’m afraid of difficult conversations. Even though it’s always better to have them.

I am afraid of making the wrong choice. I am afraid of making choices out of fear instead of love. I’m afraid that I will somehow, strangely, end up in a life I didn’t actually choose for myself, because of a whole bunch of smaller non-choices that I made because I was afraid to do the things I wanted to do. If I am a wife and mother someday, I’m afraid I’ll wish I wasn’t. And if I’m not, I’m afraid I’ll wish I was.

I’m afraid of having each tender branch and twig and blossom of my soul chopped off, or singed, or stepped on. I’m afraid that I will never be resilient enough to survive the roughness that will shake each new growth. That I will never be strong enough to speak on behalf of the parts of myself that long to reach for sunlight. Or that I will become so strong and so resilient that no new beautiful things grow.

I am afraid that as I heal and heal and heal that I will still be hurt. And that any and every hurt is a rejection of who I am as a person. That my personhood will be abandoned and that I will be alone. That I will be told that I am too sensitive, when I don’t want to be any other way. I am afraid that my dreamy poem flower of a soul will be too much for another person, that no other person will have the patience to step carefully enough to honor who I am.

I am afraid that I will lose who I am in my desperation to be loved. Which won’t be sustainable and it will eventually shatter all the love I gained in not being myself.

But dammit I’ve learned to live with fears before. Dammit I’ve overcome them. I used to be afraid of dogs until I wasn’t anymore. I don’t even remember how or why that changed. I used to be afraid of swallowing pills, sure I’d choke. As a young teenager, I practiced swallowing tiny broken off pieces of gummy bears until my mouth and throat knew it was safe. For so many years, I was afraid of “going crazy” and ending up in a mental hospital somewhere. And then I spent three days in a mental hospital. And I survived. I was afraid of a spouse leaving the Church, and I survived that, too. I was afraid of divorce, and I survived that.

So maybe I’ll survive if no one shows up to the party. Maybe I’ll survive every wrong choice I ever make. Maybe I’ll survive hurt and rejection and roughness and difficult conversations.

I’ve survived everything I've experienced so far.

Hope for the Hopeless (And/Or Those Who Feel Overwhelmed By Society's Seeming Downward Spiral)

The Amazon is being burned. People with PhD’s are being paid poverty wages. Brett Kavanaugh is still a Supreme Court Justice. And I don’t know about you, but I continue to have a visceral negative reaction at any mention of the current President.

The world feels terrible and like nothing is ever going to be okay and it’s effing EXHAUSTING.

And sometimes I need to write about it or talk about it or post about it. But today I’m going to share the things that give me hope when I feel like there isn’t much to be had.

I heard once that the people who fight against justice and progress, who keep trying to prevent society from moving forward to equity, are like toddlers in the backseat of a car that’s being driven to Disneyland. There are times when they are screaming and kicking the back of your seat, even though you keep trying to tell them that you’re going to DISNEYLAND and it will be AWESOME.

And sometimes the screaming and the kicking gets to be too much. It’s exhausting and sometimes even painful. But the thing is that the car’s still f*cking going to Disneyland. Toddlers can be loud and obnoxious but they’re still toddlers who are basically powerless against adults. And adults are the ones driving the car.

So how do you be the adult who’s moving the car moving forward, even when the toddlers are screaming?

I have no definitive answers, but here’s what helps me. All of them are feel-good-y and partly stolen from various self-help books/tumblr posts/Brene Brown/Mr Rogers, and I strongly and shamelessly believe in them.

1. “Physician, heal thyself.”

A lot of the time, my reactions to the screaming toddlers have less to do with the screaming toddlers and more to do with my own un-healed trauma. Because APPARENTLY, almost all of us have experienced trauma. It seems like that’s just part of being human. Ain’t no shame in it. (About a year ago, my therapist asked “Could it be that your parents’ divorce actually had a significant effect on you?” and I replied “NO. Because I’m not a CLICHÉ.” But it turns out I am a cliché and it also turns out that’s actually fine because now I can heal.)

It doesn’t matter if you were physically abused or sexually assaulted or teased a lot as a child. The result is the same. [EDIT: A friend pointed out that it would be good to clarify that being sexually assaulted is not the same as being teased a lot. She used the metaphor of different rooms on a boat. In her words, "Some people get first class trauma like teasing or minor emotional neglect. Others get boiler room trauma where their life is literally hell. But it is all the same trauma boat. We all sailing on the same ship." Which is a way more accurate way to say what I was trying to say. That we all experience trauma in varying levels, and that all of us experience the consequences of trauma.] Your needs weren’t met in some way and your brain decided you were in danger and now it goes overboard in trying to protect you from future danger.

So even though it sounds dumb and counter-intuitive and woo-woo and kumbaya, I actually really believe that healing your own trauma is an enormous empowering step to making the world a better place. It will improve your relationships with yourself and with others, and strengthen your ability to make choices that benefit everyone.

Healing your own trauma won’t stop the toddlers from screaming. But it will help you deal with it. It will help you feel not so helpless. If you can develop coping skills that allow you to acknowledge your needs and fears and also allow you to feel self-worth and self-compassion, you can keep driving that car.

2. Do what you can, and not what you can’t.

I do not have the emotional bandwidth or the financial means to storm ICE detention centers, to picket the capital every day, to never use plastic ever, or to send feminine hygiene supplies to every woman in need. I sometimes feel this need to do ALL THE THINGS.

But I can’t. So instead, I do what I can. I have the emotional bandwidth and financial means to call my representatives now and then, to support Planned Parenthood, and to use public transportation now and then.

And I can create art that teaches empathy. I can write and act and paint and cross stitch the things I believe will bring healing and joy and goodness. Even if it’s just some improv comedy on a Friday night that allows people to take a break from their own emotional exhaustion and trauma.

I’m a big believer that all of us have unique gifts that can make the world better. So figure out what yours are, and do those things.

3. Support those who do what you can’t.

I can’t reform immigration laws or help those in ICE detention centers. But organizations like the ACLU and RAICES can. I can post about them and donate to them. For every problem I see in the world around me, there’s an organization working to solve it. There are people out there doing work that they are passionate about and good at. They don’t need you to do that work, too. They just need your support while THEY do it. Don’t feel the need to do something you are not qualified to do.

4. Remember that things are actually getting better. Objectively.

The arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends towards justice.

Human beings are healthier and less violent than we ever have been in recorded history. Our life expectancy keeps getting higher. Child mortality rates are lower. More people have access to education, and literacy rates are higher. Despite the efforts of some well-intentioned but ill-informed parents in the U.S., more kids are getting vaccinated throughout the world. Fewer and fewer people live in extreme poverty. (For more awesome and hopeful statistics, go here.)

I don’t say all these things to minimize the very real struggles and challenges that face our species. There’s a lot we’ve got to work on. But in moments of discouragement, it’s helpful for me to remember that despite the occasional dip into terrible-ness, humans have done some incredible things.

So while we may experience those dips, and while we may mourn the casualties we fight to avoid, the metaphorical car is actually getting closer and closer to metaphorical Disneyland.

We just gotta keep driving it.

Life, Reviewed

Trip to Leigh Lake
4.5 stars
The view is so ridiculously majestic that my brain keeps trying to tell me that it’s not real. This is a backdrop, painted or projected. My heart hums with campfires and clear starry skies alternated with thunderstorms and sunny afternoons. I am filled with good conversations, naps, and reading in hammocks. Had to come home early because of sickness, which was terrible, but not Leigh Lake’s fault.

Dog-sitting for Penny
3.5 stars so far
Penny is excitable for about 45 seconds when you first meet her, and her claws are dangerously strong and sharp. But once you are sufficiently greeted, she settles down and is one of the sweetest puppies ever. Powerful jumping skills, including the ability to leap unassisted from the floor onto the kitchen counter or dining room table. Leaps joyously in the grass when you let her into the backyard, with celebratory bays and barks. Stubborn about eating on her schedule. The house is pleasant and just the right size, and all of the furniture is somewhere between mid-century modern and industrial chic, and it would be perfect if there was any art on the walls anywhere. A good selection of books scattered throughout the home. I only feel bad for not being home with Penny as often as she would probably like.

Great Salt Lake Fringe Festival
4 stars so far
I love Fringe so much. I love summer and theatre and Fringe and people creating brave art and people supporting each other, and Fringe is all of that and more. I tech 2 shows, then catch others, and occasionally run home to feed and take care of Penny. I wish I didn’t have to do that. My social anxiety sometimes causes me to become auto-pilot Liz, and she’s real awkward, so I spend my time between shows being happy to see so many people I love and admire and feeling like a goober for my awkwardness. (Thank you for being patient with me, fellow Fringers.)

The gas mileage on my 2002 Toyota Sienna minivan
1 star
Between dog-sitting and rehearsing and working and Fringe-ing, the 15 miles per gallon I get on this thing is painful. I take public transportation when I can, although I’ve been having trouble with my U of U card, so fingers crossed that works out. Because I can’t afford to fill this car up more than once a week.

Laryngitis
1 star
The fact that it was short-lived is cause for celebration. I spent one day not being able to talk at all and my brain just decided that this was forever. I resigned myself to the fact that I was now mute for the rest of my life. I mouthed things, I wrote things out, I mimed, I used a text-to-speech app. The next day, I was almost completely fine. I’m still a little scratchy, but you never realize how grateful you are for your voice until it’s taken away.

Air Conditioning
3.5 stars
When it’s very very hot, all I want is air conditioning. I want swamp coolers blasting, I want window units whirring, I want central air whooshing through the vents. They are not always energy-efficient, and I am aware of the resources being used unnecessarily or to excess. And about 1/3 of the time, room temperature is way too cold, having been set arbitrarily by middle-aged men wearing business suits. I shiver in the crisp indoor air at my desk job. But by goddess, I love walking into a pleasantly cool room in the middle of summer.

“The Post-Birthday World” by Lionel Shriver
3.5 stars
Dense and poetic writing, and a brilliant exploration of desire and choices and the paths we take. A British novel born of literarily Russian parents, it took me a while to get through, because it was so dense, but I loved it.

“Three Women” by Lisa Taddeo
4.5 stars so far
I started this the day before yesterday and I’m more than halfway through, because I cannot put it down. I’m borrowing it from one of my roommates and she’s underlined all of the same things I would. I listened to her gasp and exclaim as she read (she reads books the same way other people watch scary movies), and I find myself doing the same thing.

Blogging Every Two Weeks
4 stars
I am tired and overwhelmed and have a lot to do and today’s entry feels trite and somewhat uninspired. But I’m really grateful for something that forces me to maintain a writing habit. Even the things you love can get set aside for longer than you intend. In the hurly burly of groceries and laundry and commuting and maintaining and Etsy shop and theater, I have this small goal every 14 days that pushes me just enough to keep the embers burning.

Pornography was not the problem. Ted Bundy was the problem.

Hi, this is my standard response whenever anyone posts anything linking Ted Bundy to pornography use.

There’s this infuriating thing that gets perpetuated by well-meaning folks who are concerned about pornography. The serial killer Ted Bundy gave a final interview in the 24 hours before he was executed. He was interviewed by Rev. Dr. James Dobson, a Christian psychologist and the founder of the organization Focus on the Family.

Among saying many other things, Bundy made the claim that he was a good, normal, happy, healthy boy from a good Christian home, and that pornography snatched him away from that life at a young age, and that he became so addicted to violent sexual media that he ended up murdering 30+ women. You can read his full final interview here, or watch a spliced version of these claims on YouTube here (although I'd recommend reading the full final interview for better context and because I don't want to give that YouTube video more views).

And let’s break it down, shall we?

Bundy was probably a clinical sociopath
Ted Bundy meets just about all of the DSM-5 criteria for Antisocial Personality Disorder (APD). Like, ALL OF THEM. I’m not a doctor, but I think we can pretty confidently conclude that he was a clinical sociopath. From what we know about this disorder, genetics play a part, but children who are abused or neglected are also far more likely to develop this disorder. Consuming violent sexual media is something that many people with Antisocial Personality Disorder do (like the folks in prison that Bundy mentioned), but pornography DOES NOT AND CANNOT CAUSE the disorder. It’s better to think of consuming violent pornography as one possible "symptom" of sociopathy, rather than the cause of it.

Bundy had a traumatic childhood (not a "good Christian home" as claimed)
Not much is known about Bundy’s childhood, but here’s what we do know. He was born to Eleanor Louise Cowell at the Elizabeth Lund Home for Unwed Mothers. His father’s identity has never been determined, but some family members believe that he was fathered by Eleanor’s own abusive father, and is the child of incest. Bundy was raised by his grandparents in early childhood, and was told that they were his parents. His grandfather(/possible father) was bigoted and violent. He beat his wife and abused animals, both their own and neighborhood pets. He once threw one of his daughters down the stairs for oversleeping. Bundy’s mother later remarried and he was adopted by her new husband. Bundy disliked his stepfather, was distant with his half-siblings, and worshipped his violent grandfather. (See note above about how children who are abused/neglected are more likely to develop Antisocial Personality Disorder.)

Bundy was probably trying to get a stay on his execution
Multiple reporters asked to interview Bundy before his execution. Bundy specifically requested Dobson to come from California and conduct this final interview in prison in Florida, and he was blatant about his desire to spread a message about the harms of pornography. Bundy, as someone with Antisocial Personality Disorder, was extremely manipulative, and it’s highly likely that he was appealing to Dobson’s beliefs to try and get a stay on his execution.

Pornography addiction is not a thing
At the very least, it’s not an accepted thing within the psychological community. It was not included in the most recent revision of the DSM because there is not enough peer-reviewed scientific evidence to support it. People may have sexual compulsions, but these are often a part of other diagnoses/different psychological challenges.

Sometimes people who consume pornography may feel like they can’t control their porn use, but it’s more likely that they are caught in a shame cycle than that they have an actual addiction.

(Negative emotion like shame → self-medicating by viewing pornography → shame about viewing pornography → self-medicating that shame by viewing pornography again, etc.)

I don’t want to downplay the very real and very painful feelings of many many people who struggle with pornography. But I don’t think treating it like an addiction is helpful. Check it: BYU did a study in 2017 that found that seeing oneself as a pornography addict did more harm in relationships than actual pornography use. The porn isn’t the problem. The shame is the problem.

Pornography does not create serial killers
If pornography made the men who consumed it into serial killers, there would be a lot more serial killers.

I do think violent pornography is a PROBLEM. I think it perpetuates misogyny and provides damaging and inaccurate sex education. I think it normalizes violence against women, and women experience violence at a rate that is unacceptable. I would guess that each of you reading this is maybe two or three degrees of separation from a woman who was murdered by a partner, whether you know it or not.

But violence against women is most often committed by someone known to the victim, and the murder is usually an escalation of a pattern of violence—violence that’s normalized by lots of influences, including violent sexual media.

Ted Bundy is different. Ted Bundy abducted strangers*, raped and murdered them, and sometimes sexually penetrated their dead bodies until decomposition made that impossible.

So like, not the kind of thing most men are watching in pornography.

This narrative linking pornography to serial killers is harmful
Using Ted Bundy as an example of “what can happen if young men watch pornography” is not only totally inaccurate, it’s harmful. It sends the message to anyone who watches pornography: “You are a monster.” Which perpetuates the shame cycle that pornography use may already be a part of. It fosters secrecy, which is what shame needs to grow. It’s weaponizing shame to fight a “problem” that is caused by shame in the first place. If someone wants to change their relationship with pornography, or develop healthier romantic/sexual relationships in life, telling them that watching pornography is always harmful, no matter what, and is part of the path to becoming a serial murderer/necrophiliac WILL NOT HELP.


I know how tempting it is to find and blame a single thing for a monstrosity like Ted Bundy's behavior. It's convenient and powerful. But it's not based in reality. The reality is that Ted Bundy was the perfect storm of genetics and upbringing and looks and intelligence and timing. And we do a disservice to ourselves to try and blame anything else.



*Ted Bundy confessed to or is suspected in at least the following abductions/murders:
Anne Marie Burr
Lonnie Trumbell
Lisa Wick
Joni Lenz (AKA Karen Sparks, or Mary Adams, or Terri Caldwell)(survived with permanent disabilities)
Lynda Ann Healy
Donna Gail Manson
Susan Elaine Rancourt
Brenda Baker
Roberta Kathleen Parks
Brenda Carol Ball
Georgann Hawkins
Janice Ann Ott
Denise Marie Naslund
Nancy Wilcox
Melissa Smith
Laura Aime
Carol DaRonch
Deborah Kent
Unknown hitchhiker
Carol Valenzuela
Unidentified female found in Washington
Caryn Eileen Campbell
Julie Cunningham
Denise Lynn Oliverson
Lynette Culver
Susan Curtis
Melanie Cooley
Lisa Levy
Margaret Bowman
Karen Chandler
Kathy Kleiner
Cheryl Thomas
Kimberly Leach
Shelly Robertson
Nancy Baird
Debbie Smith
Rita Lorraine Jolly
Vicki Lynn Hollar
Rita Curran