The #MeToo Revolution

 

Trigger warning – Rape, sexual harassment, sexual assault*

 

Most conduct is guided by norms rather than by laws. Norms are voluntary and are effective because they are enforced by peer pressure.  — Paul Collier

I don’t think anyone has failed to notice the traction that the #MeToo hashtag recently gained as women around the world rallied behind it; to say that they, too, have been sexually harassed our assaulted. The hashtag went viral as Alyssa Milano, in the wake of the articles about Hollywood producer Harvey Weinstein’s alleged sexual assults, posted this on her Twitter account:

”Suggested by a friend: if all the women who have been sexually harassed or assaulted wrote ‘me too’ as a status, we might give people a sense of the magnitude of the problem.”

Following her Tweet, the hashtag #MeToo was trending No 1 the next morning. Notable however is the fact that, Tarana Burke was the hashtag’s original creator, a woman and activist who has worked for years trying to create a space for rape survivors.

The ‘me too’ status spread like wildfire and here in Sweden I watched my Facebook and Twitter feed alike fill with these two words. While heartbreaking, I wasn’t all that surprised. What surprised me more was the unwillingness from certain men to believe this reality. The reality almost, if not every woman is living, myself included. What started as a rally behind the #MeToo hashtag, the words ‘me too’ flourished in Sweden far beyond that. What might have started as a campaign, or a movement has now reached the proportions of a revolution. Soon different subgroups for different professions emerged, where the actors, journalists, doctors, teachers, students (just to mention a few) rallied behind their respective hashtags to show how sexual harassment and assaults are happening in their respective professions and fields. This proved, among other things that, sadly, this phenomenon isn’t excluded to the industry in Hollywood where men and the likes of Harvey Weinstein has ruled. If anything it has shown that sexual harassment and assaults are a structural, wide-spread problem. There IS such a thing as ‘Rape Culture’!

I’ve been wanting to write about this ever since the hashtag gained the traction that it did. It’s a topic that I feel has been readily discussed and analyzed by far more prominent and talented writers than I however, so how can I do it justice? It’s also a very vast topic and reading all of these stories along with articles, I fear I might be in over my head, it’s honestly difficult just to gather my thoughts on the subject. Where do I even start? — I guess what I really want to say is that we NEED to talk about this and when I say we, I mean women AND men. In my experience men tend to shy away from discussing sex when the focus isn’t about conquest and/or pleasure. Yes, I know I’m generalizing, but it’s what I’ve seen. When the focus is rape or unwanted advances, suddenly sex and the ”way to get there” becomes a difficult topic to talk about. A friend of mine said that men are sexual beings and if you happen to be a little ”clumsy” or ”awkward” in the interaction with a woman nowadays (post ‘me too’) , you’re suddenly labeled as an harasser. No. Just no! It really irks me, the way that some men are now seemingly upset and hurt about the fact that ”all of a sudden you can’t even harmlessly flirt with a woman without the fear of being called out for sexually harassing them.” Honestly, if you’re really having such a hard time distinguishing between harmless flirting and untoward advances — don’t ”flirt!” Sure, I get that awkward moments happen, especially if there’s alcohol involved. That’s not the same thing though. Everyone can say clumsy things, but you don’t just ”happen” to grab a woman’s ass (no, you don’t!). Seriously, if men’s biggest problems right now is about thinking once or even twice before they act when they’re around women, I say good. Do it. It’s obviously needed.

I want to circle back to what I mentioned earlier, rape culture. As friends of mine shared their #MeToo stories, it became evident that a lot of them were quite surprised when they realized that, yes, they too, had been victims even of sexual harassment even though they had not been raped. To most of these women rape in itself seemed to be the sole epitome of sexual harassment and assault. It’s not. These same friends, me and women all over (if you’ve followed the discussions on social media), seemed to realize how much we, as women have put up with. How much we’ve been told and fed with lines like ”boys will be boys”, which in many respects have excused these untoward behaviors. As a girls we are taught that if a boy is mean to you, or even hits you, it’s only because he likes you. Some even add that these boys just don’t know how to express it, so what, that makes it fine?! No. As we get older we’re told that we must have, surely, sent these men signals that they must have misinterpreted. The blame is on us. That’s part of the rape culture. It’s so prevalent in our everyday life that we sometimes don’t even notice it until someone else points it out. Even when we do know, it’s sometimes easier to just let it slide. Why? Because somewhere along the way we’ve taught boys that it’s okay to act demeaning toward girls. We’ve taught them that females are the lesser sex, ‘lesser than’ and so on. We’ve let these kind of behaviors, starting when we had our pig-tails pulled as a pre-schooler to when we had our asses grabbed in bars, to slide over and over again. It’s sick! 

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It’s both sad and tiring to always, and basically only, see accounts of how women should dress and behave in order to not risk falling victims to harassers and rapists (which is utter crap). Again, this is about victim blaming and slut shaming even. As women we shouldn’t allow ourselves to be too drunk, because somehow the responsibility has fallen on us to protect ourselves against these monsters. Why is it that the focus is mainly on women and what we can do? Why isn’t it about teaching young boys what’s right and wrong and teach them about the consequences of their actions to the same extent? Why are there countless of articles about how new gadgets and strategies are going to help save women in situations where they are scared or might fall victims to rapists? Such as a razor contraption you insert into your vagina (ouch!) or what drink to order in a bar to signal to the bartender that you might be scared and/or in need of help. We need to shift the focus. Please. I’m not saying these gadgets or strategies are stupid, they’re not. If they help, good. It’s just tragic that they’re needed and that time and energy seem more readily spent on these aspects, rather than  on educating boys and men on how they should act (appropriately, that is). Again, evidently it’s needed.

A few men that I’ve spoken to about this has claimed that they don’t want to step into the discussion (regarding ‘me too’) as they want to leave room for the countless of women who are bravely baring their souls and sharing their stories. In a way, yes I get it. However, offering support, listening and raising awareness about rape culture and what can be done to help obliterate it; is, in my eyes, not encroaching on our space. I feel like I could write more about rape culture, however, I think I might have gone on for too long already.

Just to add, yes I know that there are female sexual harassers and even rapists. I know there are male survivors too. As a female myself however, this was the focus I chose for this text. I also felt like I wanted to highlight that our societal norms are excusing a lot of this ”typical male” behavior, allowing a lot of these men to escape any consequences regardless of the degree of sexual harassment or assault.

Until next time.

Annonser
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”De är nog bara nyfikna”

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Att vår värld, inte allra minst vårt västerländska samhälle, är utseendefixerat vet nog alla om. Vi har nog alla tänkt på hur vi ser ut, vad andra kan tänka sig tycka om oss och många har nog även jämfört sig med andra. Jag gör det, absolut.

Men oftast handlar utseendefixerandet om kläder, smink och kroppstorlek. I media matas vi av vilka stilar som just nu är inne, vilka färg- och mösterkombinationer som fungerar just nu, samt hur vi ska göra för att gå ned de där extrakilona. Men för vissa av oss så finns det också ett fokus på våra hudfärger och etniciteter. Vissa får rentav stå ut med rasistiska påhopp, andra har det mer i en ”flytande form”, som en del av vardagen och då i mer vardagsrasistisk tappning.

Jag får ofta bemöta, enligt mig, väldigt klumpiga frågor och kommentarer som handlar om mitt ursprung, min etnicitet och hudfärg. När jag beklagar mig, vilket jag gör ibland–fast ibland orkar jag inte ens det (för även det blir en diskussion)–så får jag ofta höra hur jag bara borde rycka på axlarna och glömma de dumma, klumpiga kommentarerna. Ja, i mångt och mycket gör jag det. För nej, jag tar inte illa vid mig i den mån att jag mår dåligt av kommentarerna. Däremot kan jag reta mig på det, känna mig trött och uppgiven kring dem. Än fler menar att utomstående, vita, bara är nyfikna. Må så vara, men ändå vill jag mena på att det dels finns bättre, mindre klumpiga sätt att fråga och vara nyfiken på. Vidare vill jag också påpeka att det är väldigt personligt att helt plötsligt börja fråga om en persons ursprung och huruvida en har rötter någon annanstans ifrån. Om det är någon jag känner, eller någon jag ändå umgås med, som en kollega, absolut då kan jag tänka mig att man är nyfiken och kanske vill veta något. Återigen tycker jag ändå att man kan försöka vara försiktigt, kanske kan man vänta tills personen själv tar upp det. Man kan också vänta tills man har etablerat lite mer av en relation innan man börjar fråga. Jag säger inte att det finns något rätt sätt att fråga på egentligen, för det är individuellt. Vissa kanske inte har något emot att få höra ”var kommer du från egentligen?”, när du redan har svarat Sverige. Men jag tycker ändå att man kan tänka en vända innan man slänger fram frågan. I dagens Sverige finns det folk med otroligt många bakgrunder, historier och det tåls att tänka på att vissa frågor kan vara känsliga.

En isolerad händelse kanske inte verkar jobbig, det är ju bara en liten, oskyldig, och nyfiken fråga.

Men tänk dig själv…
Tänk att du under hela grundskoleperioden inte känt dig svensk. När du började skolan fick du höra att du inte såg svensk ut. Du fick frågor om varför du kom till Sverige, innan du ens reflekterat över faktumet själv. På grund av de kommentarerna, såväl klumpiga som nyfikna, börjar du inse att du inte passar in. Att du inte ser ut som alla andra, för de flesta på skolan är vita och har de en annan hudfärg är det för att någon av dennes föräldrar har det också. Men inte du. Hemma och inom familjen får du höra att du är precis som alla andra. Fast du vet ju att det inte är helt sant, inte helt. Klä sig i gult och blått, nej det går ju inte an alls. Du är ju inte svensk på riktigt! Var kommer du från egentligen?

Från andra utlänningar som kommer från trakterna du gör möter du kommentarer som: Kommer du från den trakten? Pratar du språket? Varför pratar du inte språket? Vill du inte det? Varför då? Från kompisar, men oftast från helt främmande människor får du höra: Men vill du inte tillbaka till ditt land? Vill du inte hitta dina riktiga föräldrar? Du kanske inte vill det nu, men du kommer att vilja det i framtiden. Det är jag helt säker på! Varför lämnade de bort dig? Blev du köpt? Vad kostade du? Eftersom du är adopterad själv, är det viktigt för dig att få egna barn? Under 9 av 10 läkarbesök får du frågor om: Du kommer från typ Indien, eller Pakistan, va? Har du sånt där kast man har i pannan? Jaha, du har ont i huvudet, är du gift kanske? Hur länge har du varit i Sverige då? Kan du indiska?

Dessa frågor kommer oftast innan du ens känner personerna ifråga, ja, oftast kommer de från vilt främmande människor.

Om du under lång tid har känt att du behöver kämpa, försvara och argumentera för varför du är här i Sverige. Är det då konstigt att du känner att det är känsligt när folk, oftast främmande folk som man precis har mött, börjar tvivla på att man är svensk? Just det där, var kommer du från egentligen. Egentligen. Eller, du ser ju inte svensk ut. Eller, vad bra svenska du talar. Eller, åh, vad snälla dina föräldrar var som adopterade dig.

Därför känns de nyfikna frågorna helt plötsligt tröttsamma. Varför ska jag vara den snälla och hela tiden ställa upp på andras nyfikenhet? Ja, så kan jag känna ibland. Beroende på vad för dag jag har så kan det kännas väldigt jobbigt och än mer om dessa frågor uppstår i situationer där jag knappt varit bekväm i från första början. Att fråga mig huruvida jag vill träffa min biologiska mamma är en personlig fråga. Att ifrågasätta mig när jag säger att jag är svensk, det är fräckt.

Jag skulle aldrig fråga en person som kanske ser tjock ut, huruvida den personen funderat på att banta. Jag skulle inte fråga en vän som är i en den typiska åldern när man skaffar barn, varför hen inte har gjort det ännu. Jag skulle inte fråga en person som jag får höra har blivit omhändertagen och placerad i fosterfamilj ifall personen fortfarande har kontakt med sina biologiska föräldrar. Förstår ni nivån på det hela? Det är privat. Kan ni förstå att det är jobbigt att möta dessa kommentarer, speciellt om de kommer från vilt främmande människor. För ja, det kommer fram främmande folk till mig på tunnelbanan till exempel som frågar var jag kommer ifrån, eller om jag inte är superglad att jag fått chansen att komma till Sverige. Eller vill jag inte tillbaka till Indien? Där kommer jag ju nog att se ut som alla andra! Det måste ju rimligtvis vara roligt.

 Ibland, oftast, skakar jag av mig det. Men inte alltid. Varför måste jag behöva det? Varför måste jag hela tiden vara okej med att bemöta dessa frågor? Tänk om jag inte orkar. Tänk om jag inte vill just då. Jag säger inte att man inte kan ställa mig frågor, men tänk lite på kontexten och situationen. Ifrågasätt inte mina svar när det gäller min egen adoption, eller mitt eget ursprung. Nej, ni förstår inte mig bara för att ni har en kompis som också är adopterad, eller har adopterat ett barn. Framförallt, respektera om jag inte vill prata om det heller.

 

 

 

 

 

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Remember; a few words to those who are currently searching for jobs.

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Alright, let’s get one thing straight.

You are worth it. You are wonderful. You are strong. But more importantly, You. Are. GOOD. ENOUGH! And you can do this!

As an unemployed person, you’ll be put in situations where you will feel inferior to other people. Like you’re somehow lesser than they are. A position that—regardless of duration—is exhausting and often it’ll feel like crap! It’s like, suddenly, you should be grateful for everything and anything thrown your way. Don’t get me wrong, I understand that sometimes you might need to lower your expectations, and sometimes you might simply need to suck it up. I can take that. I can live with that.

What I don’t like is the attitude some people (and even places of employment) have toward you; because they know you can’t afford to say no. Furthermore, what I’ve noticed too is what unemployment can do to your sense of self-worth and self-esteem. Everyday, another tiny piece gets hacked away. Granted, I haven’t even been unemployed for that long and I do have a university degree, so hopefully, a job will turn up. Still, it does things to you. You suddenly you start to question things about yourself that you might not have questioned before.

When I started looking for jobs, I knew it wouldn’t be easy, I’d been warned. Not only is the outlook for finding a job not the best, but my university degree in social anthropology isn’t exactly the degree you want to have; at least not here in Sweden. Here, a lot of people (unfortunately) raise their eyebrows in confusion when you mention anthropology. In a world of online courses and super tailored ones; the road to your dream job might not be the standard university course anymore. Of course, often those online courses do not come cheap and it all hinges on knowing exactly what you want to do in the early stages and to be frank, who does? These last few months have been a constant ”what the hell am I good at”-race, and trying to avoid situations with people who knows that you’ve graduated and who jumps on any and all opportunities to ask you ”have you gotten a job yet?” Not to sound like a total b*tch, I mean I do get that people are just being curious and to a lot of people, the thought of someone having a university degree but not getting a job is incomprehensible. It sort of is to me too, but then again, I’d been warned.

Now, things are finally looking up though (I don’t want to write too much about it just yet, but I promise you that when I can, I will shout it from the roof tops!). What I can say though, is that I had the best interview situation I could’ve ever asked for a week ago. And you know what it made me realize? I know stuff. Yes, exactly, it came as a sort of epiphany-like-situation to me too as I sat there. So, this is what I wanted to remind you all of: don’t lose yourself, in this whole ‘getting a job process’ (yes, it’s a whole process of explaining what you’re good at, why you’re good at it etc.). Regardless of your background, degree, or whatever, you matter and we all have things that we’re good at, we all have strengths. When I sat there, I just felt such a huge relief (granted, I was still super nervous), but for the first time since graduating I felt like: I know how to do this. I’ve been taught how to do that. What made it even better was that the interviewer seemed to recognize that too, and I felt respected. Respected as a person, and respected for my competence; I can’t even describe that feeling. I mean, I haven’t even started working, but that feeling was still worth so much. Not even during my degree, not even when I got an A on an exam, did I feel like I really knew things.

Try to keep your head up high and surround yourself with people who’ll lift your spirits and support you. I know I wouldn’t have made it this far without those in my life who have done exactly that. I believe in you, go get ‘em.

Publicerat i Åsikter, In English, Internet, Jobb, my opinion, Privat, social anthropology | Märkt , , , , , , , , , , | Lämna en kommentar

You Shouldn’t Have to be Scared to Fall in Love

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For those of you who didn’t know, Tuesday (Oct. 11) was ‘national coming out day’ in the States. The hashtag #NationalComingOutDay and #NCOD was trending on my Twitter, and since I am very active on Twitter in different capacities; it was quite something to witness. Let’s just say, my eyes weren’t very dry that day.

Apart from reading about strangers who shared their different stories that ranged from old ‘coming out’ stories to fresh ones; I also spoke to online friends who shared theirs. One of these friends—let’s call her Sam—and I started talking privately about the day. She confessed that she’d wanted to come out to her family for a long time, but that so far she hadn’t had the courage to do so. The stories that filled both our Twitter feeds made her feel hopeful to a certain extent, but she was still scared. She told me that she’d previously tried to bring up the topic of being gay with her mother, but that she’d been instantly dismissed. Instead, her mother carried out a long monologue about how gay people are sick, how their ‘urges’ are unnatural, and so on. Of course, that didn’t help Sam very much and she was—yet again—discouraged. Over the years, as gay rights have become more of a championed, public discussion and debate in [western] media, Sam’s mother has repeatedly said that she doesn’t get it. She’s also alluded that ”none of that” would ever be tolerated under her roof.

As such, Sam, who describes herself as shy and who has a hard time making friends, has shied away from other women; on the account that she’s scared that she might—at some point—develop feelings for one. Which has, as she told me, pretty much eliminated her chances of making any friends whatsoever. It broke my heart to hear her story, and it still baffles me so much, that a parent would reject their child based on that child’s sexual preferences (not that you should reject your child on any basis really). Now, I might not be a parent myself, but I just don’t get it. Your child shouldn’t have to live in fear, especially not at home. Sure, I could imagine that it might come as a surprise, or a shock for some parents to find out that their kid’s attracted to people of the same sex as they are. Fine. Sure. Take a moment, and maybe a breath or two. Don’t, however, disown them!

Sam told me that she’s taking a fall trip with her aunt and her family soon, and she’s planning on coming out to her aunt sometime during it. She told me that she’s currently in the process of writing a letter-like script about it, since she said she’d be way too nervous to just wing it. Should a child really have to go through this? The anxiety? Having to pen a letter about it? If you ask me: no. Parents should have unconditional love for their children, and this—according to me—is such a non-issue. Your child isn’t a murderer, they aren’t hurting anybody, they’re just attracted to someone you might not expect them to be attracted to! Besides, it’s such a western social concept anyway, heterosexuality. People shouldn’t have to ‘come out’, and they certainly shouldn’t have to be scared to do so, but I guess that’s the next step to work towards. Let’s just start with accepting those who do and acknowledge the courage it took for them to do so. Plus, I wish Sam all the best! I’m proud of you.

Love Wins.

* Sam isn’t her real name. We’re both working under pseudonyms online and I’ve further gotten her consent to publish this.
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It changed me

 

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© rhulth.wordpress.com

The other day, while I was sitting on the train going through my LinkedIn feed, I stumbled across a post written by Pete Marsh. I knew nothing about him, I’d never heard his name before.

Marsh’s piece is titled Since my son diedI read it on the train and got all choked up. While I will not say or pretend that I know the pain that Marsh feels since I’ve never lost a child; I could however relate to a lot of what he wrote. In the beautifully written piece, he describes how the death of his son has changed him. He describes what he no longer does, or what he gets surprisingly mad at nowadays, or what he no longer worries or gets upset about.

It got me thinking about how I’ve changed since my dad died, 1,5 years ago. Truth be told, sometimes it still doesn’t feel real to me. I can still hear his voice in my head, I can still imagine what he’d say or how he’d react to certain things. Of course, the hard part is to deal with those moments when his reaction is absent, since he’s no longer here to provide it; it’s all in my head. Getting back to the point, I thought that maybe just my perspective changed, because I’m still me. However, after having read Marsh’s text, I realize, I have changed.

Since my dad died, 
I have a hard time seeing people with their fathers. It doesn’t matter what age the children are, they don’t need to be my age. Just the fact that they have fathers, just seeing it, gets to me. It doesn’t feel fair. There’s no telling how my reaction will be, however I don’t break out in tears because of it, but to various degrees I do react.

Being the [digital] nerd I am, I spend a lot of time on my social media accounts, or in Internet communities in general. And, much like Marsh, I tend to get angry or upset when people share family memories, involving their fathers. Let’s just say that for someone who loves to be active online in her spare time, father’s day (especially when it happens in America) is a day I’m not online. It’s especially on Instagram and Twitter where I follow Americans, and those feeds respectively tends to explode with pictures of fathers and father’s day love. I just can’t, not anymore.

Marsh writes how he gets surprisingly mad when he sees a tribute to a dead pet, which he finds ironic, since his son loved animals. I, embarrassingly enough, tend to get surprisingly irritated (not mad) when I see a tribute to a distant, super old relative who’s just passed away. I know it’s completely irrational, stupid and selfish of me, but there’s always this voice inside my head that says ”well, at least it wasn’t your parent! It wasn’t your dad.”

Marsh writes that while his heart might have hardened somewhat due to the death of his son, it has also softened.

I’d like to think that mine has softened too, I am even more attuned to other people’s pain and I reach out a hand if and when I can. I try to no longer sweat the small stuff, even if that’s hard at times, I do my best. Because, while it might sound cliche, life is short. Marsh writes how he’s come to appreciate the admonitions we’ve all heard a thousand times. I agree, for the first time they really mean something.

Do tell the ones you love that you love them while you can, and savor every day you get with them!

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Daily Prompt: Carry

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So, today’s one-word prompt (via Daily Prompt) is carry. 

What came to mind, was a discussion that I had with an online friend yesterday. She had a bit of a rough day and felt like she often found herself in those situations where she’s the caring one, while her friends often end up taking advantage of her kindness. It’s a situation I can relate to, in fact I dare say that we’ve all been there at least once. Of course, it’s tiresome to be the one who always seem to do all the caring, while others keeps piling on you; expecting you to be there for them, because that’s who you’ve always been. Anyway, my friend was having trouble with another online friend of hers. She explained how they’d gotten closer over the last couple of months, and while the other person initially seemed very interested, they don’t seem to be as interested anymore, due to another online person having entered their lives. Now, my friend didn’t know whether she was just being paranoid, or if she was actually detecting a distancing from her friend.

What she asked me was if it mattered, being a good friend. A good person, really.

This, too, I think is a familiar thought. I know I’ve had it, when I’ve had bad day and have just felt kind of tired of the same old thing. Still, my response was that yes, I’d like to think that it matters. Having said that, it’s still not fun to feel like you’re being taken for granted, or even used, just because you go out of your way to make others feel nice. The Internet is a tricky place, and it’s easy to see how some people—who seemingly have a need to always be in the spotlight—tend to drag those people in, those who cares, only to toss them aside once they’ve gotten what they needed from the interaction. I don’t know if I believe in karma, but if you’re nice, and if you treat others the way that you want to be treated; it can never be a bad thing, can it? Sure, you might be setting yourself up for some heartache, but in the long run, isn’t it better to keep being nice? You never know how your act of kindness might impact someone, right? What if you, just because you decided to ask the question ‘you sure you okay?’ or ‘do you want to talk about it’, ended up doing something really great for someone? Like the quote above states, friends and good manners will carry you, and I believe it will. If you continue to be that nice person, somewhere along the line, your life will be better for it. You, as a person, will be better for it. Besides, when you start doubting if it makes a difference, hopefully you’ll have some real friends—those who won’t take you for granted and who recognize the effort you’ve put into the relationship—tell you that it matters. Hopefully, they’ll be able to tell you about all of those times when they were ready to give up on something, or were doubting themselves, but because you went out of your way to help them, they got through it.

So, keep being a good friend. Keep being nice. It’ll carry you places.

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Daily Prompt: Maybe

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I haven’t been updating this blog, I know, and I’m sorry! But I’m trying to get back to writing, publicly at least. So, I noticed that the Daily Prompt is now giving you a word to inspire you to write a post about said word. Today’s word, as you’ve probably guessed, is maybe. 

 To me, it’s a word that I use a lot. Not just because I’m indecisive, but I’ve found myself using it as a little bit of a crutch, or maybe even an escape. First of all, I always want everyone to like me, you know, to a fault. I mean, ultimately, there are some people’s approval you really don’t need (but still…). As such, in the past (yes, because I’ve become better at standing my ground now), I often said ‘maybe’; when in reality, I wanted to say no. Maybe I just didn’t want to hurt someone, didn’t want to be rude and just say no. Or, I was too scared (or, let’s face it, indecisive) to say either yes, or no. You see how it can be used as a crutch? It allows you to stay in that limbo, during which you don’t need to commit. Sometimes, it feels nice, but more often than not, you’re doing yourself a big disservice. Which is why I’ve tried to work on it, and I’m happy to say that I’m feeling more confident about stating what it is that I want and feel now.

Also, I’ve always been one of those ‘maybe tomorrow’ kind of people, again more of an excuse and crutch. It might feel better to think that, ‘yes, possibly, maybe tomorrow I’ll go out for that run’, which means you can continue to slouch on the couch for an extra day (disservice!).

Sure, there are times that calls for a polite, non-committal ‘maybe’, but even those become quite transparent after a while. You know, those friends that you bump into, with whom you aren’t really friends. Each time you talk about how long it’s been and that you really should get together soon. You politely nod and agree that maybe when things has calmed down, then you’ll definitely get together. We’ve all been there, haven’t we?

It’s still a nice little word, and while the ‘maybe’ might be used as an excuse that you tell yourself, in order to feel better about that run you never take, or the diet you never tried (or whatever, really). However, if you’re actually saying ”yes, maybe I’ll consider that,” and actually mean it, then it’s super great.

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