So. My birthday’s on Tuesday. Fighting really hard not to head right into an existential, depressive mode. I swing between loving being on my own and being terrified (note: the terror swing typically happens towards the end of each month when I am living on fumes in my bank account). Or I swing between hating romance and being determined to channel my inner militant feminist and be forever man-less to desperately craving someone to wake up next to every day and cling to each night. I am both strong and pathetic.
C and M and I are going out to dinner on Tuesday. C texted the other day, asking if I’d like to do this, and I burst into tears. Because yes. Yes, I would like to be with people I am absolutely, positively sure love me on the day that marks the moment I started a life on this ridiculous planet.
Other than that, all I really want to write about right now is this Kesha mess. Have you heard of it? I had no idea it was even happening until lovely Alison Sudol tweeted about it on Saturday morning. So I started reading the story and as I learned about what had happened and what was going on, my inner sense of social justice grew more and more inflamed. A young woman was taken advantage of by an older man who took control of her career. He invested millions of dollars in her, she was successful, and instead of just being satisfied with that and growing his own investment, he decided he also had a right to her body and her person. This is an old, tired story, gentlemen. Kind of over it. Helping someone because you want to turn a profit is business. Helping someone because you want to turn a profit and then viewing them as property is called slavery. If a woman chooses to give you her body, that’s her right. Your right ends as soon as she changes her mind. It doesn’t matter if 10 seconds before she said NO, she was saying yes. As soon as that word NO leaves a woman’s lips, all bets are off, game over, you stop. And if you have to manipulate a woman to have her? You need to seriously re-examine your soul.
At any rate, Kesha lost. The courts agreed with money, greed, and a business contract, not a human being (who burst into tears at the verdict). She wasn’t asking for money. She didn’t even try to go after him legally. She simply said: this happened to me, it’s my word against his, but it happened to me and I will never be comfortable working with someone who abused me physically and emotionally again. I want out. And she was told no.
And thus illustrates what we are becoming as a society. (I’d say something sarcastic here about the Republicans and Donald Trump, but a deep part of me knows we are all to blame for this. They’re just more out in the open about what they do.)
Other than that, I’m pretty much out of things to say now. Disappointed in society, sad with people, marinating in some loneliness right now (this too shall pass, it usually does). You know what usually cheers me up? Music. Here, go listen to a Kesha song and an Alison Sudol song. A birthday present I’d like right now is for people everywhere to have a deep appreciation and respect for strong, brave women: