A Controversial Post

I was watching Inside Edition today (a quality news program ;-) ) as they covered the story of a 6 year old girl getting a full-body pat down at an airport. 

Click here for the original story. 

The little girl protested as respectfully as she could, "I don't want to do it, thank you!" but she was obviously very upset. All the while, her mother stood by. I'm not blaming the mother here. I can only imagine she felt helpless and it all happened very fast.  I would like to think that I would demand to see a manager and request that something else be done, but I wasn't there.

On the other hand, I just watched the video for a second time. The security officer explains to the mother that the child needs a pat down. She summons the little girl over, and lets the officer take over. That's it. No explanation, no comfort. If she could have at least explained what was going on and why in a way appropriate for a 6 year old to understand, this could have been a very different situation. So maybe I am blaming the mother for her inaction.

I understand from a security standpoint why children can't be let through unchecked. I don't understand why she couldn't be sent through the scanner instead. It would seem like this would be adequate. TSA did say that they used a "modified pat-down". Number 1: It didn't look any different in the video. Number 2: TSA did not share why a pat down was required and the scan was not sufficient.

A couple of things went through my mind when I watched this story. For one, I felt very, very uncomfortable watching the little girls's protests go completely ignored. At the same time, I was really proud of her for speaking up at all. Even though she was frightened, and this was clearly a person in authority, she said no, more than once. 

As parents, I think one of the most important things we can do for our children is to teach them that their bodies are their own. They should treat them with respect and expect respect. If your daughter doesn't like hugs from Uncle Bob, as parents, we should respect that and not force her to hug him. If Uncle Bob doesn't understand, that's ok. Uncle Bob is not your concern, your son/daughter is. 

I believe corporal punishment plays into this as well. I know that spanking/slapping is a very controversial issue, although I still haven't heard a good reason for why it should be acceptable. 

• "Well that's how I was raised and how my parents were raised!" So, because it's always been that way that makes it right? Not buying it. We'd all still have slaves if that logic held up. 
• "I got over it and turned out fine." Well, it's possible to get over all kinds of wrong doings. That doesn't mean they weren't still wrong.
• "They won't listen to anything me otherwise." There's a reason that all they respond to is this kind of punishment. Because that's the kind you use. Good parenting requires patience. (I'm not saying if you spank you're necessarily a bad parent btw, I just disagree.)

There are other reasons I think corporal punishment is a bad idea. I believe that if you are going to use this approach, the punishment should never be administered while angry. You're going to do it harder than you should.

I also don't see the point. If you break the rules, you will be physically punished by your parent. Shouldn't the punishment fit the crime? Let's say a child took something from the neighbors that he knew he shouldn't have. I think it's a great idea to march that child and the stolen item right over to the neighbor, have him give it back and apologize. If the child is getting bad grades at school, take away some privileges so that the time spent playing video games is spent studying. 

I also believe that every child is different and therefore motivated differently. For example, if someone gave me positive feedback for something I did, I would then do it 10-fold (and I still work that way to this day). For a child like me, that is the best way to motivate them to do the right thing. Other children may need to lose privileges, or allowance or spend some time in time-out. You have to find what works for your child, before giving up and resorting to a punishment that makes no sense. 

Time out. 

My point is, by using corporal punishment on a child, you are not teaching them anything positive about their bodies. You teach them that a parent's touch doesn't always feel loving or affectionate. If you don't explain why they are receiving the punishment, then you just teach them that mom/dad is mean. And all children should know that love never equals pain.

I know that many of you are going to disagree with the second part of this point. That's ok. We can agree to disagree. Others will point out that I don't have children of my own, which is a fair point. I don't think I will change this stance on punishments when I do have them, but I may better understand why a parent would resort to spanking.

Maybe this should have been two separate posts, however, I feel like the topics are related. Children should learn respect for their own bodies from a young age, but first, we need to show them respect.

Rachel

Guilt

I'm really getting in touch with how guilty I've been feeling about things lately. 

I feel guilty for not doing well enough. I still don't have a degree. I still struggle with eating healthy and exercising consistently.

I'm not a good enough wife. I feel guilty that I have to deal with vaginismus and put my husband through those difficulties, even if it is getting better. I believe it is that guilt that kept me from really progressing for the first three years.

I feel guilty for being so selfish, all the time. I often get caught up in "Rachel Land". Everything relates back to me in some way. It's a terrible way to be, and it's the truth. I'm always afraid that people are going to find out about it.

I'm sitting here thinking I would like to play a video game. But there's clothes in the dryer, another load waiting to go in the wash, the coffee table is cluttered, the whole place needs to be vacuumed, classes started again this week so I should really work on homework.

I feel guilty for not talking to my mom. What doesn't help that is that I know at least some of my sister's would agree that I should feel guilty. I've tried to explain to a couple people why I feel the way I do about her, but for one, it's complicated, and for two, I haven't been sure exactly how to describe the problem.

I feel guilty that I want to feel special. I cherish every little bit of positive feedback I get on this. I know it's healthy, because I shouldn't be trying to determine my worth from outside sources, but I still feel like I need a lot of validation. I don't even understand why I want to be special. I always though survivors of abuse strive to be normal; to fit in. But I never felt like I did fit in growing up. Maybe that's it...I want to be special and not weird. Maybe it has more to do with the lack of validation I'm getting from my mom. After the court case, she came to me and said "It's not as bad as I though..." I need her to validate my pain. The pain from the past and the pain I'm still carrying today. And with that, I need her to be proud of all I've overcome, but she can't do that if she can't understand how horrible it was.

But I digress...

I was never made to feel like the abuse was my fault. Thankfully, my mother never placed that on me, as many others did to their children. But I still don't know how to feel like I'm "good". I feel like a naughty child on some level - like I am inherently bad. I remember trying to reach out to people a little bit when I started high school. I told my first boyfriend that "my dad" sometimes called me a bitch. His response? "Well maybe you are sometimes." Dumb kid. That didn't help anything.

I just want to stand up and scream,

"I'm not good enough!!"

Let me finish this by saying these are all feelings. Logically, I can point out all the fallacies. But in my heart is a battle between logic and feelings. Logic usually wins, but right now, the feelings are on my mind.

Rachel

SAD

It's that time of year again. The days are short, the skies are grey, it's bitter cold out and I'm ready to hibernate.

That's right, Seasonal Affective Disorder, or SAD, is kicking in. For those unfamiliar with it, it is depression that strikes during the winter months for people who are generally mentally healthy at other times. Symptoms include difficulty waking up in the morning, overeating (especially carbs), withdrawing for social activities, lack of energy, lack of concentration, etc. 

December 21st is the shortest day of the year. Logically, this would be the midpoint of SAD.  I think I usually start to notice it in November, but this year I was tying things up at my old job and starting a new one in November, so I think I was so excited about that that it didn't hit me as hard. However, I am now settling into my new job and the holidays are over. I can feel the change sinking in.

I'm pretty sure alfredo sauce runs in my blood.

I get off work around 4:30. I get home and sit in a chair in a daze. I spend most of winter in a daze, Eventually, my hunger gets the best of me, and I seek out dinner. Really, all I want is for Olive Garden to deliver fresh Fettuccine Alfredo (with or without chicken) to my door everyday around 4:45. But alas, that would be expensive and very bad for my waistline. And possibly my arteries.

I'm a bit worried that my therapy work will be slowed down by my lack of energy.  I suppose there's nothing wrong with that, but as I've mentioned before, I am not a patient person. I have to make some kind of progress! Every week!

My little sunlamp...it's about the size of a deck of cards.

So what to do? First of all, I will use my mini-sunlamp every morning. It helps a little bit. I will also take a Vitamin D supplement. I don't know if it will make a difference, but it is worth a try. I am trying very hard to eat healthy, and succumb to the carb cravings...at least not on a regular basis. I also keep trying to add exercise to the mix, but it's hard to make it habit when you're already feeling low on energy, even if I do logically know that it will help increase my energy level.

If anyone else has some ideas, please share! In the meanwhile, I'm going to eat some leftover cheesy bread and leave these links for you:

HappyLight 6000 Sunshine Light Therapy System

Rise and Shine Natural Wake-up Light

I'll take either one, but especially number 2! Thanks! ;-)

Rachel

Best 4 Years of Your Life?!

Have you ever heard someone comment that high school was the best 4 years of their life? How did this ever get started?! For a long time, I thought I was the only person that disagreed with that because of everything I was dealing with. Eventually, I talked to other people who felt the same way. 

I'm not saying all of high school is terrible. My teen years certainly had it's magical moments, but I just don't think it's all it's cracked up to be. You're growing up. You're anxious to be independent and to be treated like an adult. When you make the effort to behave as an adult, you are not treated with any respect. Some teens respond to this by acting out. Others manage to remain calm and show how truly mature they are.

Freshman year of high school, I was getting male attention for the first time. I was making friends with girls, as much as I could for only interacting at school anyway. I also had an eating disorder (read more about that here). I had my first boyfriend and he took advantage of me. I was more confident than I was in grade school, but still not feeling great.

This was the entire school my freshman year. I'm in the
middle in the back.

Over the next 3 years, the abuse was intensifying. At the same time, I got my first job. I was a hostess and then waitress at a local diner. I loved my job and the chance to get away from home. I also loved that I had my first serious boyfriend, Chris. I convinced myself that I loved him and we were "secretly" engaged by the time I was 17. "Secretly" meaning it had be hidden from my step-dad who wasn't even allowing me to date. This of course took its toll, among other things, and the relationship ended right before my 18th birthday. 

Throughout this time, I did very little homework. I was going to school, working, taking care of my family and being kept up late at night with the abuse. While I've heard of people who were still able to be excellent students in these kinds of situations (and worse!), I did not have whatever it takes. I almost failed high school altogether. Had I been going to a large public school, I would have undoubtedly slipped through the cracks and probably never finished. For whatever reason, my mom never seemed too concerned with it, so I'm not sure she would have been pushing me forward too much. 

However, I was fortunate enough to attend a brand new Lutheran High School. For whatever reason, my step-dad was opposed to sending me to a public school. Oddly enough it's probably the best thing he ever did for me that eventually led to his downfall and eventual imprisonment. The school was so small, I graduated in a class of 5 girls. I really should not have graduated at all, but I believe they didn't want to fail anyone in their very first graduating class. The principal and teachers gave me some work to do to try to bring up my grades just enough to squeak by. 

The Graduates...all 5 of us! I'm in the middle again.

My senior year I took the ACT and got an overall score of 26. I am particularly proud of this because it proves that I am smarter than my grades make me appear. Also, a girl who was a junior at that time and a complete perfectionist got a 24 and I was stunned that I had done better than her. Somewhere around this time, I applied to Concordia University in Ann Arbor, a mere 45 minutes from home. Without that test score, and the fact that it was my principal's alma mater, I do no think I would have been accepted. Had I not been accepted, I would have been (or felt like I was) trapped at home.  I do not know where I would be today. Truthfully, I think I may not be alive today. Or he wouldn't. It's hard to say which way I would have eventually snapped. 

But God knew what he was doing, as always.

Two weeks into my freshman year I met the love of my life. And he built me up and supported me in a way I didn't even know was possible. I found the courage to take ownership of my life. (Read more about THAT drama here.)

So that was my high school experience. How about yours? Do you think it was the best 4 years of you life?

Rachel

Anorexia Continued

I've been thinking a lot about my post on Anorexia. I think I shared a lot about the facts of what happened, however I did not talk about what cause the problem, or how I am dealing with it today. 

To be perfectly honest, it's not something I have spent a lot of time thinking about or dissecting. I know eating disorders often result as an attempt to gain control in some way. I would assume this was the case with me. My whole family was so controlled by a narcissist, that this truly was the only control I had.  I wasn't allowed to see friends outside of school (unless they came to my house, which was just embarrassing), I wasn't allowed to date, I couldn't wear the clothes I wanted to, I couldn't go to bed when I wanted to (a lot of abuse took place while the rest of the family was in bed), I wasn't even allowed to protect my own innocence. Sometimes when I am very excited, I don't have much of an appetite. So when I started high school, I probably lost a few pounds due to this. I received some positive feedback and realized that I had control over my weight.

That being said, I'm not sure how I got over my eating disorder. I think I started to reach a point of giving up. The abuse had intensified to such an extent, that I felt more helpless than ever. I was exhausted from staying up so late at night, working a part-time job, hiding the fact that I had a boyfriend, wearing the mask of the normal teenager, reminding myself why I wanted to stay alive and keeping all my emotions locked up that I needed to eat for energy. I think I would have passed out on a regular basis otherwise. 

Today, I have a bit of an unhealthy relationship with food, but I have control over my own life (Aaron wouldn't dare try to tell me what to do!). I am almost always thinking about my next meal. My major vice is eating out. I have a bit of a small frame, so a little bit of weight shows on me easily. When I was down to a smaller size while working at Curves, I didn't look too thin, I looked healthy because it was the appropriate weight for my frame. I still look on the thin side I suppose, but I have a lot of extra cushion. I'm now trying to track my calories. Not in an unhealthy obsessive sort of way, but in a healthy, reasonable way. I want to lose a few pounds that would still place me in a healthy range, and am trying to consume the necessary amount of calories to lose about a pound per week. I'm not doing great at it, but every day is a chance to start fresh.

Anorexia

Isn't she stunning?!

Yesterday, Portia de Rossi was on Oprah to promote her new book "Unbearable Lightness". It is a memoir about her struggle with anorexia and bulimia. Although I never have a shortage of things I could potentially write about, watching Oprah reminded me that my past eating disorder is another "layer" in this mess. 

When I was in 8th grade, I was, what I would call, "robust". I was horribly self-conscious about everything. I felt unpopular and ugly. My clothes never fit right thanks to a growth spurt that made me 5'7" by the time I was 13. My family couldn't afford to buy new clothes, so my sisters and myself were usually at the mercy of whatever bag of hand-me-downs some well intended individual would give to our family. Not only were my pants always too short, but everything was always well out of style. As an adult, it's easy to say that these are things that don't matter, but they sure do to a young girl in a small private school. But to this day, if my pants feel even a little shorter than I feel like they should be, I am incredibly uncomfortable. I remember a time when a fellow student called me "smokey" because I smelled like my parents' cigarette smoke. I had stopped doing all my homework several years ago. I wasn't in the smart crowd, the sporty crowd, the good looking crowd, or any other crowd. . Add to all this the issues at home, and I felt completely ostracized. Just to be clear, I'm not saying I was bullied, but kids were all that nice and I only heard the negative comments. I didn't even know how to respond to anything positive.

My Class Photo in 8th Grade

After 8th grade, I got a chance at a new start and began my freshman year at Lutheran High South. It was the schools very first year open and consisted of about 14 students at the time.  I was horribly nervous. The principal told my Mom that I was quiet the first day. Anyone who knows me knows that is very unlike me! It wasn't long though before I started making friends, and, even better to me, attention from the opposite sex. I loved every second of it, but the new attention from the boys made me more aware of my body.  It wasn't long before I started skipping breakfast. The weight started to come off. The next step was skipping breakfast and lunch. The pounds were melting away. I remember celebrating when I got on the scale one day. Mom cautioned me not to lose too much weight. But I was still getting male attention, got my first boyfriend, and was getting comments from people in general about how great I was looking. I remember my mom saying later that she wasn't aware that there was ever a problem. She thought I was just naturally losing weight the way teenagers do at that age. But I lost 11 more pounds after she had warned me not to get carried away.  Because I don't want others who read this that may be dealing with body image, I am not going to share how much I weighed at my smallest. I will say that it was very, very unhealthy. 

My friends started to notice my weight loss and reached out to me. A teacher commented on it as well. I took it as a sign that I was doing well. I was glad that they were noticing that I was thin. I was actually proud. I was also tired, all the time. I was completely worn out. I was not eating enough to give me the energy necessary to get through the day, let alone learn anything.  My periods were irregular. I could go 4-6 months without having one at all.

My 18th Birthday with my best friend, Kristina

I don't know what changed things. I imagine I just got really hungry and lacked the willpower to continue on that path (Thank God!). I started eating lunch again by sophomore year. I was still thin, but I had put on a few healthy pounds. 

My freshman year of college, things changed again. I had access to a prepaid, all-you-can-eat cafeteria. Having grown up in a large family of limited means, meals were not large. I went a little crazy in the cafeteria. That first semester, I also came down with a horrible case of mono, at the same times I was dealing with everything at home including the disclosure, the Halloween incident, etc. I had to much to deal with to worry about what I was eating. Or to worry about school for that matter. But we'll save the academic portion for another post. The following summer, I found out I had been selected to represent Monroe County in the Miss Michigan USA Pageant. I had never been allowed to do those things in the past, so I applied partly as an act of rebellion. I did not expect to be chosen! I made a half-hearted attempt at a diet, while holding down a summer job at Burger King. The exercise went just as well. Needless to say, I didn't win.

Studly Hubby looked great!

After I had my fill of the all-you-can-eat smorgasbord, I didn't want to eat anything the cafeteria had to offer. None of it was appealing. Of course, everyone felt that way, but it took me longer to get there. After college, I had a temp job. There were several males there that I had an innocent flirtation with. The male attention caused me to have a bit of a decreased appetite again, and I lost a few extra pounds. I was thrilled. At my next job, I worked with all women. The appetite came back, as did a few pounds. After that I worked at Curves. Working out during my shift was perfect! I was eating whatever I wanted, losing fat, and gaining muscle. After about 6 months, I was down to a smaller size than I had been in years, but it was very healthy. Once I left there, I started at Comfort Keepers. I ate out more, and stopped exercising. The muscle went away very quickly, and then the fat came back. I was fitted for a bridesmaid dress in February or March while I was still working at Curves. By the time the wedding rolled around in August, the dress didn't fit anymore. I had to use the dress of a girl that was no longer a part of the bridal party. I was horribly embarrassed and ashamed, because I knew that it was my own lack of self-control that had gotten me there. It was made worse when I saw some of the photos from the wedding. My face looked puffy and pale, and I thought I looked fat. My waist went from curving inward, to straight down on the sides.

None of this helps with vaginismus work. It's hard to feel sexy when you're worried about your stomach not being flat anymore, and your thighs being massive. I hate wearing lingerie when I'm not feeling confident.

I know, logically, that I am not very overweight. I'm not writing this because I'm fishing for compliments or anything like that. I'm writing it because I know I am not the only individual who has been sexually assualted or molested that has body image issues. It's a piece of the same puzzle.