Invisible Women

An interesting link popped up in this morning's Morning Cup O' Links over at Mental_Floss: Harassment and Visible Womanhood


The idea is that there are "visible" women and "invisible" women, and that the "visible" women are subject to sexual harassment from men because they're attractive, and "invisible" women are ignored because they're not. So then, the "invisible" women want to be harassed, or are jealous of the attention the visible women get. 


I don't like the use of "harassment" here, because it's not always harassment that happens, but there is a certain amount more attention paid to the visible. 


I used to be visible. Yes, there was a time I was visible. The most annoying thing was the car horns, because I don't drive so I'd end up walking a lot. I walked to the local bagel place once and got 12 beeps, 7 on the way there, 5 on the way back. I only ever got one comment, a creepy old guy in Wawa said I had nice legs (so he may have been blind), but other than that it was just looks. Men used to look at me. Older, younger, didn't matter, if I walked by them they looked at me. It was fun-- a little eye batting, maybe a nod, smirk, or sly smile. Once when I was studying abroad in London a friend of mine and I were at one of the festivals along the Thames (there's a freaking lot of them), though this one was at night for some reason. Anyway, as we walked down the river two cops came up in the opposite direction. One of them and I made eye contact and gave each other little smiles, then after we passed by each other I turned back to get one last look as he was tragically cute-- and he had turned back around, too! We locked eyes again and laughed to each other before turning back around. 


Those little moments don't happen anymore. I miss that connection, that instant where two strangers acknowledge each other. I didn't know how tied in that was to my weight until I gained a bunch. Now I realize it happened because I was at one time cute and not because it was something sweet or polite to do, like I thought. It never occurred to me that it was because these guys found me attractive, I mean, I'm a modest dresser-- not Duggar modest but I don't wear terribly low-cut shirts because I don't like breathing on myself (no, really, I can feel the air coming out of my nose brushing my skin if my top's cut too low and I hate it) and I can't wear shorts or short skirts because of the scars on my thighs from cutting so it's not like I was ever all slutted-out. And makeup looks really horrendous on me. I mean, I can wear mascara, and I only have one shade of lipstick that I can wear and I only do that when I'm going out for the night and not going to be eating, drinking, or kissing anything so...8 times out of 10, when I leave the house, I'm not wearing any makeup at all. And I hate my hair. And my skin kind of sucks. So why would I ever think those moments were tied up in my attractiveness? 


I still try for it, though. I pass a man I look up at him through my lashes, or twitch back a corner of my mouth in a little smile, but now there's no reaction. It's like I'm not there. Like I'm invisible. Even with the less attractive guys-- I did it with any guy around my age or older because I thought it was polite and it was just an extra bonus if they were cute.




Don't get me wrong, I'm glad nobody honks anymore; I'm kind of high strung so I used to jump every time a horn blared because I wasn't expecting it and it startled me. I don't miss the honking. 


But I do miss the acknowledgement. I do miss that second of sharing a friendly moment with a stranger. The memories are a little sullied now, knowing there was some naughtiness around it but it was still sweet. It's lonely now, walking down a street when nobody sees you. 


For what it's worth, kids, I see everybody. 

Still Quivering a Little, and Monkey Hookers

Holllly crap, I've actually got some page views that aren't just me! Hi, people that aren't me! 


Soooo...oh, tying in to yesterday, the No Longer Quivering blog had an incredible article on it that I just had to bring attention to (I'll give it a rest after this, I promise) called "Crushing Daisies: Ways in Which Patriarchal Fundamentalism Harms its Children Part 2: The Little House on the Prairie Fashion Club" (click here for the full article). What a mouthful. In it the author includes a section on what her daughter told her were the effects of the modest dress code enforced while they were living Quiverfull...ly. Quiverfully? While they were Quivering. 

"One day, some months after we’d come out, my then-17-year-old daughter K reminded me how damaged she had felt by this over-emphasis. She told me that in her view it had three significant effects – none of which I had intended to convey. For one, she grew to have an abiding disrespect for men and boys who apparently couldn’t keep their minds away from her private parts. K says she felt disgusted at male weakness and their apparent obsession with all things sexual. For years she struggled even to imagine enjoying a healthy partnership with a man.

In addition to helping us spot like-minded families in a crowd, dressing as we did had served, conveniently, to keep a distance between us and ‘the world’. K tells me that, even though she ended up going to school for grades 11 and 12, and is now happily managing university, for a long time she felt 16 years behind the eight ball when with her peers. Dress and other conservative choices we made kept my kids from engaging with their own culture. In an effort to follow the advice of patriarchal teachers such as Jonathan Lindvall we ‘dared to shelter’ our kids from many things that would help them function in a 21st world.

Finally, and perhaps most disturbing is that K says she grew up believing that there was something very wrong with her body. Having to hide herself away under a veritable mountain of denim, and promptly being admonished when any bits weren’t properly covered left her confused and, she says, appalled at her own foulness. She tells me that, before she even came to the dreadful realisation that God planned a very limited range of life choices for her, she knew she hated it that he had made her a girl. It’s impossible not to connect the dots and see this as a factor in K’s subsequent fight with Anorexia Nervosa."

Wow. WOW. All the hours spent watching 19 (...18...17...) Kids and Counting and marveling at those poor little J Duggar girls it never occurred to me- I mean, I never even considered for a second-

I don't know, I considered myself sensitive to that sort of thing having been through it myself, but it never occurred to me how DAMAGING the clothes are. I mean, regardless of how damaging the rest of it must be, the strictly enforced modest dress code never even crossed my mind. I suppose it's because the Duggars seem so happy all the time. 

I dress modestly- I'm no Duggar but I do, generally, cover up. It's self-imposed, though, is the difference. And, really, a decent portion of the reason why is I do absolutely despise my body. If I don't want to see it like this, surely no one else does, right? So if the outside influence is overwhelmingly "I DON'T WANT TO SEE YOUR BODY" Of course that's how it's going to manifest to a young girl. Or, rather, some young girls...most?...anyway, it seems so logical now that I'm a little embarrassed I didn't  think of it earlier. 

I did, though, grab on to that first part...sort of. The one about men being so sex obsessed...but the thought came in regards to burqas...but not the prairie dresses or the Duggars. 


...I think Jim Bob might be gay. You know, like those "cured" religious homosexuals? Yeah. Just saying. It's a theory of mine. 

Anyway. 

The universe may actually be against this blog. It might be. Point being that the day I started it I wasn't feeling well because a storm was coming- little did I know that it was a series of intense storms that have been coming and going EVERY DAY since I started this blog...um...4 days ago? Whatever. The point is, there's nasty storms here and I don't feel well. 

Herbert gives lovely massages, and while I could surely use one, I don't see him very often. We live six blogs away from each other and I see him maybe once a month...sigh...don't go for the smart ones, girls, they're always too busy. At some point I'll explain more about Herbert, he's an interesting fellow. 

Oh, another from mental_floss for you: Monkey Business. Scientists taught monkeys how to use "money" in exchange for food. The most interesting part of the article, the most interesting part of the experiment, is a little note at the end (the implication of that being, I think, that scientists concentrate too heavily on the experiment they're doing and not enough on the...I don't want to say consequences, let's say..."periphery". They don't focus enough on the "periphery".) that THE MONKEYS EXCHANGED MONEY FOR SEX. Hello! Scientists, hello! Ignore the economics of grapes and Jello and gambling (further experiments they performed), AND LOOK AT THE MONKEY HOOKERS. That's fucking amazing, pardon the pun and French. No wonder they call it the oldest profession in the world- they teach monkeys to use money and BAM! Prostitution. 

I find that awesome. 

Why do I always end up finishing these before I go to sleep? At least today it's for a nap. Mixing things up a bit. 

Quivering

My blogger dashboard says "!" has 3 posts, which is very untrue...I had 2. This is number 3, the one I'm writing now. I wonder where this phantom post is...hm. No matter, I suppose. And, sadly, I decided to bite the bullet and change the blog's name from "!" to Salami and Orchids. Might as well, it being the address and all. I wonder if I'll get slammed for copyright infringement. I switched it around, after all...and certainly ol' Eva wasn't the only one a fan of both.

Besides, "Pepperoni and Tulips" doesn't have the same ring to it.

Anyway, I came across an interesting article today in mental_floss's Morning Cup o'Links (awesome daily collection of links). It's an interview with a woman who left the ultra-religious "Quiverfull" Movement, and she now runs a blog called No Longer Quivering that helps to advertise and heal survivors of the Quiverfull movement. The most famous practitioners being Jim Bob and Michelle Duggar, they follow a set of guidelines that include homeschooling, modest dress, and -oh, yeah- leaving their family planning to the Lord. As in they use no birth control whatsoever.

The interview is here at a site promoting sexual health.

Fascinating stuff. I'm a little obsessed. I'm a serious atheist but I'm completely drawn in by any and all things religion. I actually graduated a few credits short of a minor in religion. People that devote their whole lives to an idea...an unproven idea- I don't even have words for it. It's beautiful, and I'm jealous- I wish I could live my life with that much passion for something or be...convinced so easily.

Maybe I should work on this at a decent hour when I can arrange my thoughts in a straight line.

Not like anybody's reading this anyway.

But there it is. Quiverfull.