I’ve become that bitch who’s been in her new house for months and months and can’t get hang a mirror. it’s still sitting on the floor. Also, I think I’ve been her all along.
Catch me 3, possibly 2 years ago, and I would’ve been zooming in at that girl, or neighbor, or friend who’s moved in their new place and just can’t seem to get it together, and I’dve been judging her hardcore. ‘what a cliche’ I thought of them, ‘just do it. this is your new house – make it happen already! what’s your deal, do you just not care how your environment looks?’
well I’m dumb.
yal, she was doing her best. you’re doing your best. AND I AM TRYING. she was too, and now I know.
only through experiencing this myself was I able to understand LITERALLY what she was talking about. how dos one just make a house a home all in a hurry. there’s no time because of life things! there’s no money! there’s too many ideas, there’s not enough ideas! there’s handmaid’s tale to watch and dogs to walk and kids to keep alive and fig trees constantly dying. there’s paralysis and anxiety and I don’t know if I want the fucking mirror there because I want A DIFFERENT MIRROR syndrome.
this is 100% relative to my concerns as a non-struggling privileged lucky white woman. put the context of the particular problem aside, and isn’t this the way it all goes. until you experience something yourself that’s different than what you thought, it’s difficult to understand another’s perspective. it’s silly to think the way you conceptualize of things is correct 100% of the time. you are not so many things – you’re pretty much just one thing. you can’t ever assume to know what someone else is going through – because the world is full of totally gnarly combinations of DNA, like approximately 7.5 billion and none of them are right. each person is just another snowflake in a blizzard. special and different, YES. right, nope.
glean from this what you will. I’ve had half a gummy and a delicious shrimp dinner so I can show you the world, shining, shimmering splendid.
so many people are afraid of what they don’t know right now. just fear of the unknown + some stories they’ve told themselves about what could be — and acting on that fear often leads up to one acting like the bitchiest bitch of all.
L O V E !
Hey I cannot seem to find where you posted about Three Women… I was going to order it for my 28 year old daughter, but then I read this review and I was dissuaded. What do you think?
I pre-ordered this and paid full price, based on rave reviews from magazines & TV. I expected a sexy, empowering group of stories. I’m sorely disappointed, and struggling to finish the book. Ms. Taddeo is a great writer, and these women deserve to be heard. But PLEASE tell me that the kind of subservient-to-men, self-hating, self-disrespecting, pick-me-no-matter-what thinking that precludes these sorts of experiences are not the norm anymore! If so, we grown women apparently need a swift kick in the behind to wake up and stop giving everyone else power over our lives and loves. There is so much wisdom available to us via modern technology, that we no longer have to live sequestered with whatever familial, religious, cultural or societal boxes have been drawn around us. We have the awesome ability to choose how we engage with what badly behaving lovers do, even those who claim to love us. We can choose to love ourselves better than anyone else does, thereby leading by example and showing people what we won’t tolerate, and what we deserve. And this is how we’ll teach children to treat themselves and others with true love and respect. They need to see us leading by example. This book is not sexy at all. It’s sad. Anyone experiencing anything like these stories needs compassion and help recovering.
Ellen, I’d totally order it! It’s here: http://isuwannee.com/2019/07/flings-77.html
Love it!!
Love your candor!
Thank you!
😍