Engagement photos = Perfectionist Lauren Runs AMOK!

For those of you who are new to the blog (HI!), I am getting married in August. The planning process has been a bit harried, mostly because I don’t know how to be a bride. I didn’t ever plan on getting married, so I didn’t have a vision, felt angsty about the whole process, etc. Now, thing are coming together, and I have been feeling good about the whole process. Or at least I did, until it came to the engagement photo shoot. I agreed to it, because my fiancé really wanted it. And I can admit that it would be nice to have real, professional photos of us. Problem: I hate to be the center of attention. It brings out all of my perfectionist tendencies, which are not pretty. In order to avoid a lot of anxiety, I requested that we keep everything low-key; I didn’t want to have professional hair and make-up done. I didn’t want to buy a special outfit just for the photos. I wanted a location that felt like us, and I wanted the pictures to feel natural. I thought that all of this would keep me from turning into an obsessive stress ball, and it did for a little while. Then about three weeks before the photo session, it hit me that these photos are a big freaking deal, even if we don’t have a hair and makeup team. This was also the time that my eye started twitching whenever I thought about it.

I decided that I would create a plan of attack. This anxiety would not get the best of me! I scheduled an emergency hair dye appointment, so my color would look fresh in the photos. Next I hit up Sephora for some serious makeup supplies, like dark circle corrector and lipstick. Then I decided to go through my entire closet and pose in different outfits to see if they would be flattering in various scenarios. Next, I went on Youtube to find hair and makeup tutorials, and I practiced them for a few evenings. I badgered my fiancé into picking the most photogenic look. I painted my nails, which I only do once a year, because I am TERRIBLE about removing the nail polish when it has clearly passed its prime. I also strategically planned when I would wash and style my hair, so it would not be too clean, which leads to frizz. Oh, and I made sure that my eyebrows were waxed, which required another scheduling hoopla due to my skin care regimen that must be interrupted for the waxing process. And the piece de resistance, I busted out a few extra gym sessions! 

What the FUCK? In the middle of this melee, I did realize that I had fallen down the perfectionist rabbit hole that I was trying so hard to avoid. And yet, I just kept going. It is really hard to hear the low key, down to earth mantra, when you feel the (admittedly mostly self-induced) pressure to look great in photographs that will LAST FOREVER. 

I am a bit scared for what my happen on my wedding day. Obviously, I want to look GOOD, and I would like for my eye to not twitch in the process. Any words of wisdom from the community?

- Lauren, who let out her inner perfectionist and who is trying to stuff her back in the box!

I am speaking to young feminists. What the hell do I tell them?

This weekend, I am participating in an inter-generational feminist panel for the University of Texas at Austin Feminist Action Project Conference. I have to be honest that I am a bit nervous about it. If you had asked me to speak about youth engagement or supporting youth in foster care, I would be all over it. Those were my professional endeavors for five and a half years. Being a feminist is more personal. It is not a work title that I wear; it is how I live, how I vote, how I view the world. It is a part of who I am. I rarely offer the personal part of feminism to a face-to-face audience. I usually use the feminist lens to critique something that is happening. This is different.

For the past few days, I have been thinking about the message that I want to bring to the group. I haven’t found the right note that I want to hit in my sharing. Perhaps I can get away with not having a big takeaway message? (Ha! Probably not.) I keep ping ponging between the typical stuff, and it doesn’t feel right. We have all heard the inspiring message of, “We can change the world.” That message will only fuel you for so long. We have all gotten the message to be the feminist that you want to be, or be the change that you want to see as it were. That seems a bit unhelpful. It feels self-serving to share my own feminist story. I mean really. How far will that get another person?  

I can tell the group exactly why I am a feminist. I am a feminist, because the patriarchy hurts everyone. We are all placed into these narrow boxes of expectation. When we do not meet those expectations, because of what body parts we have, who we are, who we love, how we express ourselves, where we are from, who we know, how we look, what has happened in our lives, what values we hold, what jobs we find meaningful, then we are hurt socially, financially, physically, emotionally, and environmentally. And that must change. We all deserve the freedom to be who we are without penalty. I am going to be a feminist who critiques and works against the oppressive patriarchy until it is dismantled, and we are all free. (Maybe that is my message?) 

What motivates you to be a feminist? (I promise not to steal your message and use it as my own.)

- Lauren, an older feminist sharing her lessons with younger ones

UPDATE: The panel went really well. I got to share the turning points in my life that made me become a feminist and the  hopes that I have for the future of the feminist movement. If I had to pick a theme in what I shared, it might be that we need to expand the feminist conversation to include more oppressed groups and to keep the movement relevant. Everybody seemed engaged and ready to take that message forward. It was awesome! 

Walk of Shame: Time to Retire this Term

I saw a tweet last week from Ali Spagnola about retiring the term, “Walk of shame.” Holy crap balls, how come I have never thought of that? It is such a short phrase, but it has a huge impact on framing the way that we view sex, as most language does. When we say, “Walk of shame,” we are usually referring to seeing a woman (or being that woman) who possibly spent the night at someone else’s house, presumably to have sex, and returns to her home (or classroom) in the morning wearing the same clothes and makeup and mussed hair. We are essentially using it to say, “She probably got laid, and she should definitely feel bad about that. If not, she is a total slut.” We don’t usually know the woman’s circumstances; we are just making a judgment about her and what she has supposedly done. We don’t even know if she had sex, and if she did, if it was consensual. One tiny phrase brings up all kinds of negative social stigmas and keeps patriarchal rape culture alive and well.

I used, “Walk of shame,” a few months ago to describe why I hate that Austin hosts a billion running events every year, which shuts down different streets, making it impossible to get home after a night out. But you know what? I take it back. I had consensual sex with someone who I really liked, and I should not have to hide that when it happens, even as people give me sideways glances. I should be proud of it. In this case, saying that I did a walk of shame just perpetuates the idea that all sex is bad/wrong and that women (especially) should not be having it, which as we all know is total bullshit.

So fuck it. I am done. Walk of shame? Not using you anymore.

What do y’all think?

- L, saying goodbye to yet another term from her vocabulary and feeling good about it