Author: Tael

When Abuse Follows You

~ Tael ~ Leave a comment

I was groomed to hide abuse.

That’s what I’m learning about myself now.

My darling friend said I should write a book on it, because of all the firsthand trauma I’ve experienced from narcissism in my life. And more and more folks are starting to share their stories all over social media. More and more folks are not hiding their abuse.

Those of us who grew up around abuse can unfortunately hold a higher tolerance for disrespectful behavior because it was so prevalent in our childhood. I’d lay on a mattress by the front door with my best friend as we snacked on pasta and scribbled in activity books with headphones, trying to block out the shouts and crashes in her parents’ bedroom. Summer vacations spent with my extended family, I’d wake up to my aunt wailing at me and my cousin to flee next door and call the cops on her husband as he assaulted her, only to get the “nevermind” call at the neighbors. On other occasions, cousins and family friends pinned me down, ripped my shirt open; their hands wandered my body, their bodies on top of mine, their mouths sought my private places, they directed me to do the same to them.

I never told my mom any of those things until recently, as a full-grown adult. Because there was an unspoken rule not to talk about these things that we caught, even as children. And when it’s the people you love and trust in these situations, well…it becomes “normal”. Not that big of a deal. Everyone has to deal with something like this in the real world, right?

So you bring that “resilience” to the real world, accustomed to dysfunction. You’re so comfortable with it, you’ve always navigated it…that you don’t even realize…you’re always navigating it. It’s become second nature. You don’t think to run away from your “normal”. You’re just used to it.

In college, when my ex put me in a chokehold, I didn’t tell anyone. I just gave him another chance. When he did it a second time and started punching me when I wouldn’t submit to him, I left him, but I didn’t report anything. I told a couple of my closest friends and kept it moving. Oh, and I told some frenemies who claimed to care about me, but then they spread rumors that I was still seeing him, knowing what had transpired. I was never afraid though, because he was a little bitch. Only little bitches hit women.

We’re groomed to hide mistreatment.

We’re also so used to abuse only being physical, outright yelling or nasty belittling. A benefit of social media is that it’s opening our eyes collectively to the different types of emotional abuse that are so insidious. That we weren’t taught classified as abuse growing up. When I recounted different childhood experiences with my mom, my therapist said “Let’s stop dancing around the word we should be calling it, which is abuse.”

Abuse. Full stop. Because it’s so hard to connect that word with those you love. Because my mom’s intentions were good most of the time. But neglect and abuse are not always intentional. And accidental doesn’t mean it’s not there.

I wasn’t allowed to show “negative” emotion as a child. If I reacted with sadness or anger at anything my mom did, I was told I had an attitude or punished. I could not show any disapproval at her actions, no matter how ridiculous or illogical they were. That’s a key narcissistic trait though. One of my narcissistic exes once told me himself he needed to be around happy people only, because he was not capable of producing happiness himself. Also code for, “You cannot respond negatively to any of my abuse“. Narcs cannot regulate their own emotions, which is why they cannot handle yours, and will call you “emotional”. They flee from any emotion that is not “happy” or “anger” rather than dealing with it like an adult (because remember, they are emotionally immature). Which is why they need to constantly be surrounded by others hyping them up and giving them pats on the back and telling them “Good job”. They crave external validation because they cannot give it to themselves. That same ex needed me to celebrate every time he made a “sale” at his job, even though, that was literally his job every day: to make sales. So I had to celebrate him doing his basic job correctly, the way you clap for a toddler during potty-training. My last ex got mad that I didn’t automatically high-five him after a gym session. I have been with some bodybuilding-looking motherfuckers, and not once did they expect any sort of validation for completing their routine gym workouts. Because internal confidence does not breed the need to beg for recognition. But I wasn’t “supportive” enough because of this.

My individuality was not valued as a child, because my mom saw me as an extension of herself, as did my narc exes. In my last relationship, I constantly felt misunderstood, not heard, and not seen as my own person. Because I wasn’t. Things that were important to me were overlooked or easily forgotten. I was seen for how “good” I made my partner look (because I was attractive, fit, had home-making skills and participated in his hobbies), same as when I was young and my awards and educational accomplishments therefore made my mom look special in her parenting. But my unique quirks were not appreciated (they were usually laughed at), and if I had a differing opinion, or did something they thought made them look bad by association (because with narcs, it’s all about their projected image), it was all over. My personal feelings, thoughts or beliefs did not matter. If anything, they expected me to change my mind for them. I was expected to be uncomfortable so that they could look good or have their way at all times, and fake happiness even when I was miserable. If I didn’t, then I was “ruining the mood”, and the one thing a narc hates is if you ruin their good time because you’re upset by something inconsiderate that they did. But because they don’t want to be seen as a bad person in any capacity (and in their heads if they’ve done a bad thing then they’re automatically a bad person and they can’t process the shame involved), they just keep doing bad things and not taking accountability for them.

My mom is the first one to bend over backwards for someone and perform a favor that may greatly inconvenience her, if it will make her look like a savior. It’s generally a great production so that everyone knows, “Look what I did.” My narc exes were exactly the same, because it made them look like good people. But you’ll notice, they’d never do something like that for the people closest to them, like their partners or family members. Like, they’ll jump out of bed at 3am because their drunk friend called and needs a ride in the next town over, but complain about having to pause their game and drive their girlfriend home from the doctor 7 minutes away. It’s telling.

Heavy criticism is another marker. My mom never thought twice to publicly shame me for little things that didn’t match up to her standards, making spectacles of beating me or announcing my gifts were wrong, then proudly proclaiming her disciplinary actions to others. My aunt has witnessed her being incredibly cruel to me vocally on more than one occasion, and giving zero fucks about my feelings despite my being obviously visibly hurt. My two worst relationships with the biggest narcs were rife with criticism. And it was never constructive. I kid you not, my last ex brought up a work trip from 3 years prior, before we were even together, where I snuck a man into our company Airbnb late into the night for some “fun times”, so I barely got any sleep. The next morning, our group activity involved taking a yacht to a private island. I discreetly asked the captain if there was a room I could catch up on a few Zzzs in. He gladly obliged, I conked out for like 2 hours and awoke refreshed, ready to party with my team, feast, take pics, and swim in the river. But my ex made the biggest fuss about this years later for some reason. HOW DARE YOU DISAPPEAR FOR A NAP BECAUSE YOU DID DIRTY THINGS WITH A MAN BEFORE WE WERE TOGETHER. I DON’T THINK THIS WILL WORK OUT. Keep in mind I caught him going on Tinder while we were together “for validation” (narcs have ridiculous double-standards galore). There was absolutely nothing I could correct about that situation; it just happened and he wouldn’t let it go and angrily shoved it in my face for hours/days as this somehow lowered my worth in his eyes. The guy who also patronized sex workers and happy-ending massage parlors.

He told me he sometimes saw me as “his friend’s leftovers”, since I had dated his narc friend as well, and somehow thought he’d be different because of how hard he pursued me and earnest he was with his feelings (beware of love-bombing ya’ll). Another something I could do nothing about, but he held it over my head as if I’d now been demoted to a clearance rack item. Another instance he wouldn’t let go of for months, was a gaming session with friends, where a player I barely knew profanely roared at me when I beat him, which made me feel extremely unsettled. I ended up leaving because I couldn’t shake it off, and he once again claimed that my removing myself “ruined the mood”. The fact that he was well aware of my past trauma with abusive men yelling and getting physical didn’t matter. Because your feelings never matter to a narc, your discomfort doesn’t matter, your trauma does not matter. All that matters is what they want in that moment and how they think they look, at your expense. You live to serve them.

Have you ever had someone you loved callously watch you cry, turn their back on you and leave or like, pet the cat instead? Almost sociopathic, right? Normal people don’t like to see their loved ones hurt, but to narcissistic people, our tears inconvenience them. It’s literally, “Shit, they’re crying, now I gotta console them, ugh, I don’t wanna.” And yet, I’ve literally had them earnestly look deep into my eyes and say, “This anime is very important to me, I need you to pay attention and watch it seriously,” because I was looking at my phone. Double standards. Lack of empathy. Hallmark narcissistic traits.

And then the manipulation. They don’t have a great sense of self, so they don’t respect yours either, hate your boundaries, and ignore your likes and dislikes. And so, they’ll insist you do things that you’ve made clear you don’t like, and then get mad at you for not visibly enjoying it. One ex got angry because I opted out of playing beer pong and sat on a stool to watch the game instead. Another threw a fit because I pulled myself out of a game of Never Have I Ever, when a coworker kept pressing me on a question I didn’t want to answer. If you’ve been with a narc yourself, you’ll know, the anger is always severely disproportionate to the actual “offense”, due to their terrible emotional dysregulation. My ex even admitted that though he’d been promising that he’d close the gap on our relationship by moving to my state since we got together, he’d hoped that we could do drugs together and I’d be enlightened to change my mind so he wouldn’t have to keep his promise. You’re not accepted for who you are, but rather, the ball of Play-Doh you become for them to mold into whatever they need at the moment.

But we’re trained…to stay…silent.

I remember the first time I broke the silence of keeping the chaos a secret in my last relationship. After my alcoholic ex getting into 3 vehicular accidents within the first year of our relationship, and the fear I felt one night wondering if I might become a victim in the passenger side of his reckless swerves and curb-jumping. I remember him being pissed that I’d told someone, but in no way concerned for my safety, just his image. I remembered thinking how horrified my family and friends back home would be if they found out I’d been hurt (or worse) in a completely preventable accident because I’d chosen to move states to be with a substance-abuser with heavy mental issues who hid liquor bottles in his cue-stick bag and constantly pushed me to leave but I stayed because I really wanted to help heal him but staying meant constantly enduring why can’t you just think how I think and act like I act and NOT be your own person and never disagree or dislike anything I say or do and excuse all of my bad behavior? Why can’t you ever be…good enough.

And you won’t be. Not for them. You will never be good enough for them. Because they move the goalpost every time you finally reach it. And because nothing is ever good enough for them. Because they aren’t actually happy with themselves, and that’s why they’re always chasing the next high, restlessly looking to fill the void and persistent emptiness inside of them with outside stuff. They are not at peace with themselves, so they’ll never be peaceful with you. And they don’t love you for the person you actually are. They love you for what you’re doing for them, how well you’re handling their projected emotions, how well you make them look. The second your real flaws and needs come into the picture as a person, and they have to cope with actual human sides of you, the “love” they say they have stops.

Ben Taylor of Raw Motivations, a self-aware narcissist who shares helpful content on narcissistic abuse, reminds us that narcissists’ words never line up with their actions. A glaring mark of dishonesty. And that you always need to be looking at what is being demonstrated over what is said.

So, let’s take this example. One of the biggest recurring issues in my last relationship was that my ex had an “internet friend” that he’s only met once in his life. Someone he’s never really shared his hopes and dreams or trauma with or who has never stood by him through some deep shit or helped him in any meaningful way. He repeatedly swore up and down they were just friends and there was nothing sexual or anything more going on between them. But women have intuition and know when something’s up. Despite my ex willing to die on the hill of his assertion that this was a run-of-the-mill friendship, the following happened during our relationship:

  1. He liked all of the pictures she posted and commented on how beautiful she was.
  2. He showed me old messages between them of him admitting his crush on her and getting upset whenever she mentioned her boyfriend (the literal definition of simping).
  3. He tried to hide the fact that he was watching her Twitch streams when I was around (because obviously he felt it was something that needed to be hidden).
  4. He bought her OnlyFans subscription in secret, “out of curiosity” he said (even though he supposedly had no sexual feelings for her) and then admitted to me he was looking for her pics to jack off to.
  5. He mentioned she once sent him a video of her having sex with her boyfriend.
  6. Despite MANY serious conversations and ensuing forgiveness, culminating in a giant boundary being set by me that I could not “happily” continue the relationship if he continued to reach out to her, he broke the agreement we made, did it anyway, then deleted the conversations between them. He then lied to me about how they got deleted, trying to convince me the phone must have deleted it, the social media platform must have malfunctioned (guys, THIS is textbook gaslighting) until he finally admitted to it, but claimed there wasn’t anything suspicious said (though he felt the need to delete the evidence). He then refused to unfriend her after breaking the promise, which caused our relationship to end (He also immediately confided in her directly after the breakup).
  7. He came back months later asking me for another chance, saying he confessed all of his shady behavior to her because she needed to know. I later found out this was also all a lie once I actually saw the messages. He basically just told her I was being ridiculous. He then told me that he lied to me to “make himself look better” so that I would take him back again.
  8. And then, after the subsequent breakup, he immediately unblocked and refollowed same girl AGAIN and began liking her stuff, even though he’d told me he “barely thinks about her anymore”. Even after we’d made a pact to try and be friends and help each other get through this breakup together, stay in one another’s lives, remain sensitive to each other’s emotions, a source of comfort, not post anything hurtful, you know, all that mature breakup jazz when you actually care about a person? Even though I was expected to “watch what I post” and make sure I didn’t accidentally post a guy’s arm anywhere on my social media. So I called him out on it, and he apologized saying “I had no idea it would upset you, I’ve unfollowed her”, (after 3 years of this being a recurrent problem, had no idea) only to find out he friended and still spoke to her on another platform.

Believe the words? Or the actions? What is being demonstrated here? Trust, honesty, loyalty, and caring? Fuck no! If it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck, it ain’t a cow, no matter how much a narc tries to gaslight you into believing you don’t understand farm animals. They will lie to your face. And they think their lying is justified because they have a faulty conscience that operates as a “What can I get away with?” meter. “Did those actions display love like his words did?” No Ben. They did not. Were those the regular friendly actions of a man who’s totally not into this girl and has no ulterior motive whatsoever? No. They are not. What is actually happening is what is factual. We are so hurt by the actions and so confused when they don’t line up with the words, that we’ll lie to ourselves just to soothe the pain of betrayal by someone we loved and would have done anything for. We’ll lie and say “He didn’t mean it,” or “This is how caring looks.”

But take away all the slick words and the silver tongue. Someone who directs his attention to talk to the dog while you’re breaking down and hurt doesn’t love you. Someone who tells you, after you have to physically remove yourself from the room because he won’t take your no to sex for an answer, “You should have said no more seriously,” does not love you. Someone who says “I understand that this hurt you,” and then proceeds to do the exact same thing over and over again…does not actually care. It’s all a deceptive facade.

My mom and I have been having a lot more talks recently because she genuinely wants to improve our adult relationship. And she finally used the word herself last week. She said she didn’t realize that what she was doing back then was emotional abuse. But she realizes it now. And perhaps finally calling it what it is, by name, is freedom.

And not hiding abuse anymore is freedom.

And having the courage to radically accept the painful truth that you loved those who never reciprocated meaningful love or caring in return despite their words?

Freedom from their lies.

And freedom from the lies we had to tell ourselves to be with them, that we actually meant something real to them; the worst pain of all.

Tell your story.

~Tael

Selfish or Self-Fulfilling?

~ Tael ~ Leave a comment

There’s a lot of this going around on the Internet right now (especially if you follow therapy pages like I do). All the over-givers who are sick of getting “taken advantage of” are entering their “selfish eras” and “doing me” and whatnot. And don’t take my quotation marks for sarcasm; I’m in the same boat. Someone who’s grown exhausted with choosing to over-give (because no one’s forcing us; it is our choice, we just want acknowledgement and reciprocity for it). But seeing my peers say we’re being “selfish” now, I’m realizing we’ve grossly misinterpreted what the word selfish actually means. Because all the “selfish” stuff we’re doing by focusing on ourselves now and taking care of our own wants is really the shit we should have been doing all along.

Let’s look at the dictionary definition of the word selfish: lacking consideration for others; concerned chiefly with one’s own personal profit or pleasure.

That’s not what taking care of yourself is. Taking care of yourself is something we’re supposed to do. We’re not entering our selfish eras devouring fresh cheeseburgers while simultaneously staring down a homeless man with no remorse. We’re not scheming to get ahead at the expense of someone else’s suffering. We’re not shamelessly flaunting our fancy new expensive purchases in front of a friend who’s struggling financially to make ends meet. We’re not inconveniencing others. We’re simply doing more of what brings us joy and alignment in our own lives and trusting our fellow adults to take responsibility for themselves in non-life-threatening situations. You know…like healthy human beings?

We’re eating better, working out more, and focusing on more self-care to improve our mental well-being, not stealing candy from children or dipping into the collection box at church.

But somewhere along the way, society got introduced the notion that if you are always looking out for everyone else, it will come back to you.

Noble, yes, but also a load of bullshit.

Sure, there’s Karma, and sure, being kind to others does benefit you, but stretching yourself thin and exhausting yourself to your own detriment to do it became the gold standard because we all knew a grandma or auntie that always looked out for everyone and was always giving, and do we remember how they lived? Usually poor, on government assistance, and didn’t go out much. Harsh, but a dose of truthful reality. We looked out for them, but still, were their lives thriving? See, the giving notion got twisted to the point where it became ideal and applauded to always give to others even at the expense of yourself. Like, if I’m walking the streets barefoot and I see a guy in a wheelchair, I should give up one of my legs type deal. Sounds a little ridiculous, no? But then, where is the limit?

The truth is, this world is full of leeches who will seek out folks with this over-giving mentality and then suck.you.dry. This mentality also blurs the line of personal responsibility. At some point, as we grow from children to adults, we learn that we must take responsibility for our own lives, actions, and their consequences. There’s a fine line between being “helpful” and enabling someone, which many people forget, and that causes a whole new slew of problems in that by your eagerness to be helpful, you actually take away the learning experience that folks need to better themselves on their own, but since someone else is always willing to do the work for them, they no longer try.

I got called selfish a LOT growing up, especially because I was an only child until I was 15 (and most only children are called selfish by default). One of my earliest standout memories of being slapped with the selfish sticker was when I was about 7 or so, and my two cousins and I were each allowed to pick out one snack from the supermarket. I chose one of those really cute applesauce 6-packs, probably a Blues-Clues variation, or some sort of limited-time variety flavor. Now, I had plans for this snack. I was ready to ration out my portions for the next few days, because that was the sort of precocious child I was. One during a reading session, one hiding under the kitchen table, one on a car ride…I had plans for this snack. But what ended up happening was my 2 cousins snarfed their stuff down in hours, then came to me with their hands out for mine. And I was made to give it to them.

I was livid at the unfairness of it. Here I am, displaying advanced life skills that most adults struggle with like delayed gratification, restraint, and frugality, and I was just expected to hand over portions of the snack I was treasuring, just because my cousins wanted it. I hadn’t coveted theirs. I hadn’t asked for any of theirs. I hadn’t partook in theirs. But I was still berated by my family and called selfish because I didn’t want to hand it over. Why were my cousins not the selfish, greedy, gluttonous ones? Why did it not matter that I was losing out here, getting an unfair portion of the snack I fairly acquired? Why was I not praised for my discipline?

Now, I’m sure my family was only trying to teach me a lesson in being giving, no matter what the circumstances, and I’m sure most parents back then wanted to raise altruistic little Gandhis, but the result today may be a bunch of exhausted, codependent people-pleasers who’ve learned that the appearance of “nice” to others is more important than being kind to ourselves.

There were MANY other instances I was called selfish growing up, and of course I WAS at times, I WAS A CHILD. Children by nature are selfish, and that’s why adults who are selfish are seen as more childish because they haven’t matured out of the “everything revolves around me” phase. But I was an intelligent child; I didn’t lack consideration for others, and I was strongly empathetic. I don’t think I at all deserved it as the personality trait my family accused me of having. I was a big proponent of fairness. Of equality. Of everyone getting what they wanted, if they could. But we were taught that ONLY utter sacrifice of what you want is true giving, and that compromise in the fairness of all parties doesn’t count.

If you are maintaining a gym routine, weekly self-care days, improving on a hobby that brings you joy, taking a class or learning a new skill, that’s not selfish, and we need to stop acting like it is. You are not in your selfish era because you’re taking the reigns of your happiness and not expecting anyone else to do it for you. You’re living your life and investing in the most important person in it; the star of the show. The fact that we collectively see this as somehow selfish and there’s a guilt associated with it speaks volumes to society’s expectations and why so many folks can’t take care of themselves and are always expecting someone else to help them. Unless you are a parent or caretaker, you are not responsible for anyone else’s life. We are the ones in our lives who are in the easiest position to give ourselves what we want because we know what makes us happiest.

A narcissist ex once told me, “A relationship should be two people trying their best to make the other person as happy as possible.”

Awww so sweet–WRONG. First of all, sounds exactly like something a Narc would say; they want you in their pocket doing anything you can to make sure they stay happy and all their needs are met, while simultaneously throwing temper tantrums in response to your requests and trampling the boundaries you try to stand firmly on.

But it’s also unsustainable. There are just some things that another person is not capable of doing for you, that would make you happier than if you did it for yourself.

Another popular insight going around is that we shouldn’t be looking to other people to make us happy. Your source of true happiness must come from within, and not from an outside source. You have to be your own sun.

And being your own sun isn’t selfish. Tending your own garden isn’t selfish. Thinking of your own happiness, in conjunction with those around you is not selfish. The notion that we need to forsake our own needs to appear giving is a foolish one that needs to be retired, along with the idea that we even need to prove how giving we are in the first place, as if we earn some sort of floating badge attached to our human avatars that others can see, confirm, and validate us with. The fact that we actually think that by supporting ourselves in the same manner that we support everyone else is us entering our sElFiSh ErA is unhealthy, damaging, incorrect, and barf-worthy. This is not, and has never been a “Fuck everyone else’s feelings, I’m gonna do me” movement. It’s a “My needs matter just as much as everyone else’s, and I don’t need to hide them to appear ‘good'” shift.

Because what if, by considering your own needs as equally as you considered others’, it actually made things…EVEN.

Balanced?

Fair.

~Tael

Reclaiming Fried Chicken

~ Tael ~ Leave a comment

A month or so ago, as I walked up the stairs to my apartment, I smelled the warm, homey aroma of that night’s dinner coming from my downstairs neighbors’ door. The smell of the Spanish food they cook up regularly tempts my nostrils; I almost wish they would offer up their leftovers because I would gladly take them (plus the grandma lives there, so you know it’s banging). But that particular night, my perceptive nostrils recognized the unmistakably comforting scent of homemade fried chicken, and sent a signal to my brain that made me realize I desperately missed it.

So the next day I went the grocery store and grabbed some vegetable oil and flour, whipped up a batch, and sunk my teeth into the blissful seasoned crunch that soothed my craving. And as I went to pour the leftover grease into a Chinese takeout container, I paused. I remembered when a container of used grease by my stove was as regular as the iodized table salt canister. But I no longer made fried chicken often, so what was I going to use the rest of this grease for if I saved it? Well…it was here now. Why not fry some pork chops next?

While fried chicken was one of the first things I was taught to cook on my own, there’s a few reasons why I stopped eating it regularly since my college years. The biggest one, even more so than health, is that I come from a family of Black aunties whose cooking rarely fails. When you are raised on authentic Black Auntie fried chicken, it’s hard to settle for REGULAR fried chicken. And then of course, the basement-after-church-service fried chicken. And then there was my Grandma, the head fried-chicken-making OG. Whenever we’d make the trip down from New York to Baltimore, no matter what time we arrived, even if it was 2am and she’d already gone to bed, there was always a bowl of fried chicken waiting for us on the kitchen table. That just-as-good-possibly-better-even-when-it’s-cold fried chicken. Cause anyone can be lazy enough to eat some cold fried chicken from a fast food restaurant, but that doesn’t mean it’s going to be good. My cousin and I would sometimes sit in the backyard on a discarded dresser, escaping the sweltering, air conditionless kitchen, snacking on Grandma’s fried chicken and throwing the bones over the fence to the neighbor’s dog.

So since I grew up on the best fried chicken, I learned not to seek it out anywhere else much because it was never the same caliber. I mean, Popeyes can hold its own in terms of fast food fried chicken when you forgot to make dinner or you’re coming in from a drunken night and need a meal that consistently delivers some flavor. Then there’s what I call the “hood chicken spots”, those dingy little joints in urban areas with the cheap specials and a million items on the menu and it looks like some shit could go down at any moment (think Crown or Kennedy Fried Chicken); they actually tend to be reliable to quench a hankering, especially after a grueling church service gone on for too long. Hip-Hop Chicken and Fish chains in Baltimore gets an honorable mention as the top store-bought fried chicken I’ve ever had. But I even avoid soul food restaurants because as many as I’ve been to, their fried chicken has never been as good as Grandma’s or my aunties. Or their mac n cheese (once again, my aunties slay in this department). Most of the time, I’d just hold out and wait for the best.

But now, Grandma is gone. And I don’t see my aunts as much, and they don’t fry up chicken as much, and ever since I started eating healthier almost 9 years ago, I cut out fried and fast foods heavily. But that random, home-cooked fried chicken craving and my not-as-good-as-Grandma’s-but-still-delicious results felt soothing.

So I kept the grease. And I made pork chops a couple of nights later. And fried up some fish. And then a few weeks later, I bought some MORE vegetable oil. And I made some MORE fried chicken and fish. And I’m not worried about it because I have habits now. My food choices are superbly different now than they were before I started eating better. My body generally craves the home-cooked option before the fast food one, the baked option before the fried one, the whole food option before the processed one. The 3-ingredient butter over the 18-unpronounceable-man-made additives “spread”. Making some homemade fried chicken once or twice a month is not going to derail my wellness when I’ve built up 9 years of discipline with consistent workout routines and choosing real food over the quick option.

And the memories attached make it good for my soul. 🙂

~Tael

What Makes Healthy Attractive

~ Tael ~ Leave a comment

Most women I know swipe left on the guy in the dating app with the shirtless bathroom-mirror selfie. Even though, 99% of the time, the guy doing it IS ripped so shouldn’t it be impressive?

Thing is, we swipe left on those guys because of what posting a shirtless bathroom-mirror selfie tends to say about personality. For men (I admit there’s a shameless double-standard when it comes to women). Look at my buff body, doesn’t this entice you? I don’t know proper lighting, that’s why there’s massive screen glare and mad shadows behind me. I never leave the house so I couldn’t get a shot at the beach where I’d naturally be shirtless, but I NEED to show you what I’m working with here to up my desirability points.

He may be showing he’s fit and healthy, but it’s giving desperate. Basic. Lowbrow.

We’re more likely to swipe right on the guy in the snug-fitting shirt that hugs his guns well. It’s not IN-YOUR-FACE, but gives an underlying confidence (I don’t need to flaunt a very obvious, conventionally attractive asset to seal the deal) as well as allowing the myriad of positive traits within the fitness tree to shine as well.

Everyone loves a body in shape, mostly because of the very obvious, visually-appealing, #1 reason that’s always focused on: it’s nice to look at. It’s sexy. It’s a plus to date someone who works out. #Fitspo is all over the Internet under the guise of health consciousness, beautiful athletic bodies at the forefront. But the non-physical, positive aspects tied into it don’t get the same shine. Taking care of your body IS one of the top pillars of health. And healthy people tend to be attractive people. For a LOT more than just looking good.

Discipline. Every adult KNOWS that routinely carving out time to put your body through physically taxing actions for the sole purpose of building strength and stamina is WORK. It’s not really considered fun. And it’s tiring. Especially while balancing work, kids, adulting. We’d rather be chilling on our couch. Controller in hand. Nomming on cookies. Sleeping. Mentally slothing out on social media. All those things that are way less work and much more appealing than getting our ass to the gym. It’s EFFORT. But at the end of the day, it’s mind over matter. I literally tell my friends I have to “catapult myself to the gym now” because I am mentally grabbing myself by the britches and slinging myself out my door before I come up with any more excuses not to (rain, sub-zero temps, and still-sore-from-last-workout are the big ones). Because often you DON’T really want to do it, but you do because you know it’s GREAT for you. Which is why it requires…

Motivation. Hella motivation. Hella self-motivation. Because while you can lean on others for encouragement and to keep you accountable, nobody can go out and get this shit done but yourself. And that’s attractive. Consistently incorporating exercise into your life for the sole purpose of improving your health and physical prowess is determination. It means you understand the concept of delayed gratification and are willing to invest in yourself for your own betterment in the long run. Motivated people, especially self-motivated people, get shit done. And it’s because they can give themselves their OWN push and aren’t afraid to face something challenging by themselves. And that motivation to push themselves comes from…

Self-love. You have to respect a person working to be the best version of themselves because they VALUE themselves. Their health and mobility is important, and a strong part of what keeps a human youthful, vibrant, and energetic through what you hope to be a long, happy life with as little medical intervention as possible. They’re empowered through a commitment to themselves, and confident. And we all know confidence is sexy. Those who love themselves take care of themselves, because they want a strong mind and body. And folks are always admired for their…

Strength. I have older women in my life with dancer’s bodies. Personal training and running marathons in their 60s. A retired grandma who continued to volunteer part-time within the education system in her 70s just to keep her mind active. Healthy mind/body/spirit is a THING, ya’ll. Another grandma was sturdy af up until her 80s. Never needed a cane, never had a hip replacement. Stayed wearing her jazzy outfits and perfume when she went out, and you couldn’t pull the wool over her eyes, even in her old age. Hell, she didn’t even exercise. Imagine how much more formidable she could have been if she had. I look up to all of them. Strength and determination are captivating. A strong body and mind are coveted. You know how they say you’re the average of your five closest friends? My four closest friends ALL make a point to incorporate exercise into our lifestyles (Hey, I’m five!). And we never once even tried to push it on each other; it just happened organically that way. Positive influence rubs off, as does negative. I see videos on social media now of ladies in their 80s deadlifting at the gym. I hope that’ll be me.

I speak from the female perspective, but it goes both ways. A man sees a woman who tends to her health as positive and attractive. She takes pride in her appearance. She’s motivated to keep herself healthy. A strong, determined partner to rear children. A smart teammate who makes healthy decisions that will benefit the family.

Good health will always look attractive because it symbolizes so much in a world where the opposite is the norm. It makes you look better, feel better, perform better. It instills the qualities of motivation, determination, discipline, strength. THOSE are the attractive qualities you can’t see right away, but are buried under the superficial surface of “fit”. A long-term commitment to one of the most important things in EVERYONE’s life is the body we live in for the time we’re here. And the commitment to care for it is not limited to gymgoers. Dancers. Runners. Rock-climbers. Those who get a walk in every morning. Cyclists. Acrobats. Sports. There’s so many ways to actively take care of your body, just by putting in a few hours out of the 168 ones we go through every week. It’ll never NOT be worth it.

Taking care of yourself is appealing. Self-esteem is enticing. Striving to continually improve oneself is engaging. Water in your system and sunlight on your face and nourishment to your soul…

Good health is attractive.

Posting shirtless bathroom-mirror selfies on a dating app is not.

~Tael

(This is not a post on dating lol. Be your best self.)

I Don’t Need To Be A “Good Woman” Anymore

~ Tael ~ 3 Comments

Frankly, I’ve become sick of it.

Because the “Good Woman” has become the female counterpart of the “Nice Guy.” It’s the woman who gets walked over. Who moves her boundaries to accommodate others and pays for it. It’s the woman who gets burned out from always putting her needs last, and is called selfish when she doesn’t. Who loses her individuality in the identity of the “good wife and mother.” Who stretches herself thin to the point of exhaustion and is praised for this. Who’s expected to treat a man like a king but not receive queen treatment in return. She’s ride-or-die and must stand by her man no matter what, so she swallows indignation and lets indiscretion slide, absorbing her own painful feelings like a sponge. It’s more acceptable for her man to make mistakes but if she slips up, it’s World War III because a Good Woman is expected to be perfect, not human. How often do you hear a story about the complete asshole who got cheated on and probably had it coming? Not nearly as often as you hear about the “Good Woman who got away” or “the man who didn’t appreciate what he had until it was too late.”

A Good Woman should never be too emotional, because he’ll tell her so. A Good Woman shouldn’t nag, because nagging drives a man away. As young girls, did your family groom you to play this role? To believe that “keeping a man” is paramount and if he leaves, you’ve failed and your worth as a woman plummets? That embracing the Good Woman role takes precedent over your own personality and it needs to be displayed; the world needs to know how much of a Good Woman you are by how smoothly your relationship is going and if it’s not, it’s somehow your fault? A “Good Woman” is more likely to settle because at least she’s “keeping a man.” Her goal is being achieved.

Her role as a Good Woman is to cook, clean, care for the home AND work, while the man simply has to…work. A “Good Woman” keeps the kids out of the way so that the man has peace from his own children; his special chair, domain over the television, head-of-the-household dominion without daily household-running participation, simply because of his gender. It’s completely acceptable for him not to be sociable; to retreat to a garage or man-cave for hours at a time, because only men need to retreat. Any input or help he does offer, society applauds him because the bar is so much lower that bare minimum is better than nothing. If he makes one meal to his wife’s 10, he must be praised and encouraged. The Good Woman frequently gives more than she receives out of expectation. Her image is always under a microscope and must always be maintained.

She must always be on her game because she’s expected to provide advice, money, comfort. If she’s not in a state to administer those supplies, then she falls off her pedestal. She can’t be too assertive about her likes, dislikes, and knowing what she wants because this makes others uncomfortable. She really can’t even openly express discomfort with others’ actions, especially her man’s. She must go with the flow at all times and not make ripples in the surface. She makes a huge dinner only for him to come home late, glance at it, and decide he wants pizza instead. She stands by him through drunken tirades and hurtful behavior, lies and half-truths, and blistering criticism of her personality beneath the “Good Woman” cloak. Money mismanagement, she fronts him. Emotional mistakes, she soothes him. Personal growth, she supports him. He explodes on her in public, passersby giving her anxious “Are you okay” glances as she tries to calm him down through the shame. She wilts under the disrespectful behavior from his family and friends that he does not check them for, but is not allowed to defend herself or call them out because then she’s being disrespectful for standing up for herself. She accepts him for who he is, but is not accepted in return. She must smile and always appear agreeable, especially around others in his presence, regardless of whatever storm is brewing beneath her surface.

“At least he doesn’t beat her,” is always a reason to stay.

A Good Woman will receive many apologies when she stays and endures the negative behavior, and dole out much forgiveness because she’s so Good. But she’s not valued for her personality, the way she makes him laugh, the thoughtfulness she puts into gift-giving, her unique traits or how she considers his feelings. She’s valued for putting up with the antics and letting him get away with what he can. Shrinking herself so that she doesn’t appear challenging and her man’s circle certainly can’t know that she has the power to call ANY shots like an equal in the relationship, because then the man no longer appears manly. A Good Woman even has sex when she doesn’t feel like it, simply because “a man needs it.” And he’s still getting “kept”.

Because to “keep a man” is paramount. That’s the most. Important. Thing.

But I no longer want to “keep a man.” I no longer want this to be the driving goal in my life. I want a man who wants. To. Be. Kept. Who doesn’t need to be persuaded to do right by her.

To choose me. Because of our bond and our connection. Who’s in it based off his own integrity and values and not a Facebook “Relationship Goals” meme checklist. Because he respects me, enjoys my mind, and finds me special, not because I’m adorning myself with garments from the “Good Woman” wardrobe, but because of that naked authenticity beneath. Because when we come together, we bring our own unique ingredients that create a flavor that works for us, and not a trending recipe.

Who says, “It’s okay to be yourself.“

I no longer need the validation from the “Good Woman” title. The Good Woman who continuously takes shit because the more she endures it, the more she somehow earns a more valuable badge of honor (and let’s face it, good women take shit). What I NEED, and what’s healthiest for me, is to be myself. Safe within my boundaries, filling my own cup and then giving to others, holding others accountable for their own responsibilities instead of playing a savior role. To express myself freely and make mistakes and learn from them without fear that I’m not following the “guidelines” because I’m too busy following my own compass.

I want the real me seen, not the “Good Woman” costume I’ve been told I need to fit in life. I’d much rather be accepted for that.

And if the real me isn’t “good enough,” that’s okay too. You’re more than welcome to find better.

~Tael