I honestly cannot remember if I have the entire story on this blog of what happened in my youth to force me to mature quickly and necessarily to avoid death. In the case that I do, please bear with me as I relay it again.
In the summer between seventh and eighth grade, I adopted ten chickens as pets. Odd, you say, but for me it was not...I grew up on the back of a horse, and was the only one that went to school without knowing there was still manure on my shoes from the horse show over the weekend. I had had the pleasure of adopting two chickens before from some friends that I knew from horse riding lessons and horse shows. Their names were Lucy and Ethel from my favorite TV show of the time, and I was mourning their recent deaths by the mouth of a coyote in May. In late June and early July, I adopted ten chickens that, little did I know, would teach me more about love and friendship than any human ever has or will.
These chickens had it all. Birthday parties, daily play time, treats, crazy and expensive coop toys, and even middle names. To those whom don't know the first thing about chickens, they can be cannibals, so once in awhile, I would take their own eggs and throw them on the ground before them. The chickens would squeal in delight and make my day with their happiness over something so simple. It was beautiful, really, to see creatures that were ecstatic for the smallest things, and telling this to others makes me sound crazy but also, maybe it makes me smarter for even noticing the beauty in it.
Long story short, I went vegetarian because I realized that those ten chickens meant more to me than any person ever had. They were forgiving, held no grudges, loved always, cared about your opinion, and never argued. Contrary to popular belief, chickens are smart. I taught two of my three roosters how to play tag, and all of them what words to expect me to say when they were about to eat dinner. So, I thought one day, why in the world am I eating chicken, or any meat, for that matter, when the very meat I ate could have changed a life like my chickens did for me? So vegetarian I went, and I was happy to be one. Despite the new whispers about me when I returned to school in eighth grade, I was happy with the things that made me different.
According to the other kids, however, the two hundred plus kids that picked on me daily (and the eventually 312, I believe the exact number was, that picked on me in total, not counting the kids I didn't even know who added to the emotional torture), my differences made me weird. A loser. I couldn't eat for one day in the cafeteria without one whisper of how the chicken one was eating was one of my chickens, or how meat was "mm, mm, so good!", or without having to pick meat off my shirt after it was thrown from a random direction. Chants of KFC, random "Cluck-Cluck!" whispers as people passed me, the pictures of dead animals that people would print out of their printers just to see my reaction...oh yes, my friends, it was a fun part of my life.
I had a website dedicated to my chickens that my friends and I frequented (my friends thought that having a friend with chickens was the coolest thing since sliced bread...and I have to admit, I agreed), and after receiving a few messages in my guestbook threatening the life of my chickens and me (one of which I remember word for word: "i know where u live. i will slit ur chickens throats and eat them"), I deleted the text of the website, promptly replacing it with a hit list and a death threat to the top 20 worst kids I knew.
Also as promptly, I was suspended and expelled. I spent that Christmas in the local Children's Hospital after I attempted to take my own life with the help of some string and a decorative hook in the ceiling. Eventually I went to high school, back with all those kids I knew, although the high school was the biggest in my state, so the scum were few and far between. They still said things, although in high school, I wrote these situations down and went straight to the principal with every single one. In college, even, I dealt with stares and whispers. And, to top it all off, my husband had some co-workers trying to be the first to tell him "what his girlfriend had done", although he knew and backed me up every step of the way.
In the present, I have a high school alumni bulletin sitting on my desk, proclaiming the exciting five year reunion of the class of 2006 to be held next summer. Regardless of what one may think, I will be there. I'm not thinking about it, and I'm not torn over it.
I'm going to be there, and I'm going to make an impression.
Even as I write this I wonder if I should dedicate the next year to planning a speech and contacting the people who are making this reunion happen to let them know I'll help plan it. I want the people who made my life a living hell to the point of it nearly coming to an end to know how well I turned out. Really, I expect karma and the rest to take care of most of what they have coming, but I would like to be able to add a little punch of my own.
On the night of the reunion, you can expect me to be dressed in my sexiest, most professional and yet classy attire. You can expect me to look as damned good as I ever will. You can expect me to be talking to every single person who is surprised I ever showed up because of the times they put me through, and you can expect a polite sarcasm in my voice as I ask them if their schooling years went well and, of course, "Have you forgiven yourself for what you did to me and anyone else you tortured?"
Don't get me wrong: I've forgiven these people. If anything, their torture of my childhood soul is what caused me to go into modeling at 13 and start a business in real estate at 15. I wanted to someday be able to say that I got over what things they had done and could truly say I was better because of it. Someday, I had promised myself, those people who were everything would look at me and admire me, wishing they had befriended me rather than tortured me in the years back, because now, they wish they were me.
Someday, I promised. Next year, I'll get that day.
Monday, June 21, 2010
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Prejudices Against the Child-Free
Usually I must have something give me a reason to rant before I do so, and that is no exception today. Think of the word "rant," however; a negative aura surrounds that word, as if in order to rant you must be pretty ticked off. That's not the case for me today. I had a positive experience revolving around being child-free and making this known to a parent yesterday.
As I mentioned in the post above, it has recently become clear that my husband has the ugly grasp of a personality disorder. I am not going to sit around and wait while this begins to control us, so we have been going to counseling to learn how to deal with this and how to get things back to their normally perfect state. Yesterday was my individual session, while next week will be my husband's, and the week after we will both get to hear answers to certain questions that we gave the counselor. I would find this hilariously fun if it weren't for the circumstances, but despite the situation, I am having fun with this. I can't wait to hear Tim's answers to the questions I answered yesterday, and I'm already guessing as to what his answers could be.
At the together session just a week and a day ago, we were told that out of thousands of couples the counselor has seen over the fifty years he has been doing this, we work together as a couple the best. And yesterday, I had to answer some questions about God: three words that describe Him, and one word that definitely would NOT describe Him. After I thought for quite awhile on the latter (after not having any trouble giving all sorts of words out for friends, family members, and Tim himself), I finally said, "God is everywhere. I guess I'll have to be standard with this and say that God is definitely not evil." The counselor, an 80+ cute Methodist minister, looked at me in awe, and replied, "All these years, and you are one of three people to tell me that. I am impressed."
Okay, so not so standard. I have come to appreciate all the compliments I'm getting from this adorable old man. Tim and I both told him that one reason we are together and could care less if we were the only ones on the earth (actually, that would be wonderful 99% of the time) was because of the fact we are such radicals and we share these views with each other. Both of us are child-free libertarian vegans, not to mention straight-edge, and you just don't find that often.
At the session yesterday, with pen and paper in hand, the counselor asked me, "What are your personal goals for your marriage? Do you plan on having a family?" For any child-free person, they absolutely hate getting this question, and for two reasons. For one, I already have my family, and we are perfect the way we are. For two, answering the question as a child-free individual just does not end well in the majority of situations. Yet, I had to answer truthfully, so I replied, "No, actually. Tim and I don't mind kids, but we definitely don't want any of our own."
The counselor's response was simple. "Oh, okay." Nodding, he added, "Another thing that you share that is different."
What? Just that? And said in an understanding, caring manner? No. I expected more prejudice from someone who isn't child-free, and a minister, at that! I expected a scolding on the blessings of kids, how the very point of marriage is to reproduce (and what, did you actually think you went into marriage for love? Bah!). Or, come on, at least give me this: "Who will take care of you when you're older?"
Here I was, ready to be defensive, and the man was understanding. I was grateful, but shocked. Rarely are people understanding of what is different, especially when it revolves around something like kids, where everyone must like kids and want to be with them 24/7 or you simply aren't human. I have been scolded like a child for being child-free before, and from a whole variety of people who really shouldn't have a say in whether my reproductive organs do their complete "job" or not. When I lived with my parents, we had a housekeeper who was adament about getting me to have kids. She had one child herself and was a single mother, and her son was getting into trouble all the time with the law, and threatened once to call the cops on her because she threw a dinner plate at him. With a background like that, where do I sign up to be a parent? Seriously, though, she once said to me, "When a little child comes piddle-paddling up to you and tugs on your shirt and says, 'Mommy, Mommy!' it's the best feeling in the world." My response was a look of disgust, quite frankly, and I said, "I'm sorry, but that would be hell for me. I'd have to turn that kid around and find a different Mommy for it to bother."
What comes of this? Well, when you have an argument between a child-free individual and a parent, obviously the child-free are going to come out of it looking like horrible people. They are against children? How can that be? (Insert audience gasp here.) I don't want children for a super long list of reasons. One night in my senior year of high school, I skipped reading to write a list. I passed 100 before I got bored and started to read again. Yet, when asked why they DO want kids, people tend to have to think about it before they give a reason or two. Because...they just do? They want a Little Me? They don't want to be lonely when they are older? They want to pass on the genes. They think they would be a good parent, and they want to put that to the test. Wait...and the child-free are called selfish? Why are the reasons for parenting me, me, me? I have met one person in my entire life whose reasoning for having children was not selfish, and she hasn't had kids yet. But my point is this: it doesn't matter the reasons, nor why a person has them. If you want kids, it is of no one's say to tell you differently. The same goes for the opposite: I don't want kids, and instead of being anti-kid and telling me to have them when I'm certainly not going to be a good mother and subjecting a human life to that, why can't you all leave it be?
Sigh. I simply want my beliefs to be respected. I never push my beliefs at others and I wish I could expect the same. I worked in a diet office once, and I let people know I was vegan, but offered nothing further. I never asked people why they ate meat, didn't they know that 100% of recorded anemic cases are from people who eat meat and dairy and NOT vegans, etc., etc.? Because I left others alone, I expected similar treatment. One diet tech in particular did not let me go about it. He had a different set of questions everyday for me, disrespecting my beliefs and my reasons for having them. Twice, I proved him wrong about a nutritional subject (the subjects of, particularly, peanut butter vs. sunbutter, and the fact that soy is the only plant complete protein), and only after the latter was solved and I again was the victor did he leave me alone.
Why do those who are different have to continually explain their beliefs? Why does my being vegan or child-free hurt you? Why, if I ask "Why do you eat meat" or "Why in the world did you have kids?!" am I looked at as if I'm alien, but the opposite questions are completely okay?
I am a radical because I have found both through experience and fact that being the norm is the worst you could possibly be. That is why I am vegan, libertarian, AND child-free. Each has years of research and experience following up to my strong belief, and I have found each to be a highly intelligent decision (the vegan belief in general, the other two are intelligent and tailored to myself, of course). People, on the whole, are lost creatures that follow whatever is trendy. As pessimistic as that sounds, it is wholly true, and I strive to be different. The point? I strive to not be you, and not be in the norm. So don't try it. Thank you.
As I mentioned in the post above, it has recently become clear that my husband has the ugly grasp of a personality disorder. I am not going to sit around and wait while this begins to control us, so we have been going to counseling to learn how to deal with this and how to get things back to their normally perfect state. Yesterday was my individual session, while next week will be my husband's, and the week after we will both get to hear answers to certain questions that we gave the counselor. I would find this hilariously fun if it weren't for the circumstances, but despite the situation, I am having fun with this. I can't wait to hear Tim's answers to the questions I answered yesterday, and I'm already guessing as to what his answers could be.
At the together session just a week and a day ago, we were told that out of thousands of couples the counselor has seen over the fifty years he has been doing this, we work together as a couple the best. And yesterday, I had to answer some questions about God: three words that describe Him, and one word that definitely would NOT describe Him. After I thought for quite awhile on the latter (after not having any trouble giving all sorts of words out for friends, family members, and Tim himself), I finally said, "God is everywhere. I guess I'll have to be standard with this and say that God is definitely not evil." The counselor, an 80+ cute Methodist minister, looked at me in awe, and replied, "All these years, and you are one of three people to tell me that. I am impressed."
Okay, so not so standard. I have come to appreciate all the compliments I'm getting from this adorable old man. Tim and I both told him that one reason we are together and could care less if we were the only ones on the earth (actually, that would be wonderful 99% of the time) was because of the fact we are such radicals and we share these views with each other. Both of us are child-free libertarian vegans, not to mention straight-edge, and you just don't find that often.
At the session yesterday, with pen and paper in hand, the counselor asked me, "What are your personal goals for your marriage? Do you plan on having a family?" For any child-free person, they absolutely hate getting this question, and for two reasons. For one, I already have my family, and we are perfect the way we are. For two, answering the question as a child-free individual just does not end well in the majority of situations. Yet, I had to answer truthfully, so I replied, "No, actually. Tim and I don't mind kids, but we definitely don't want any of our own."
The counselor's response was simple. "Oh, okay." Nodding, he added, "Another thing that you share that is different."
What? Just that? And said in an understanding, caring manner? No. I expected more prejudice from someone who isn't child-free, and a minister, at that! I expected a scolding on the blessings of kids, how the very point of marriage is to reproduce (and what, did you actually think you went into marriage for love? Bah!). Or, come on, at least give me this: "Who will take care of you when you're older?"
Here I was, ready to be defensive, and the man was understanding. I was grateful, but shocked. Rarely are people understanding of what is different, especially when it revolves around something like kids, where everyone must like kids and want to be with them 24/7 or you simply aren't human. I have been scolded like a child for being child-free before, and from a whole variety of people who really shouldn't have a say in whether my reproductive organs do their complete "job" or not. When I lived with my parents, we had a housekeeper who was adament about getting me to have kids. She had one child herself and was a single mother, and her son was getting into trouble all the time with the law, and threatened once to call the cops on her because she threw a dinner plate at him. With a background like that, where do I sign up to be a parent? Seriously, though, she once said to me, "When a little child comes piddle-paddling up to you and tugs on your shirt and says, 'Mommy, Mommy!' it's the best feeling in the world." My response was a look of disgust, quite frankly, and I said, "I'm sorry, but that would be hell for me. I'd have to turn that kid around and find a different Mommy for it to bother."
What comes of this? Well, when you have an argument between a child-free individual and a parent, obviously the child-free are going to come out of it looking like horrible people. They are against children? How can that be? (Insert audience gasp here.) I don't want children for a super long list of reasons. One night in my senior year of high school, I skipped reading to write a list. I passed 100 before I got bored and started to read again. Yet, when asked why they DO want kids, people tend to have to think about it before they give a reason or two. Because...they just do? They want a Little Me? They don't want to be lonely when they are older? They want to pass on the genes. They think they would be a good parent, and they want to put that to the test. Wait...and the child-free are called selfish? Why are the reasons for parenting me, me, me? I have met one person in my entire life whose reasoning for having children was not selfish, and she hasn't had kids yet. But my point is this: it doesn't matter the reasons, nor why a person has them. If you want kids, it is of no one's say to tell you differently. The same goes for the opposite: I don't want kids, and instead of being anti-kid and telling me to have them when I'm certainly not going to be a good mother and subjecting a human life to that, why can't you all leave it be?
Sigh. I simply want my beliefs to be respected. I never push my beliefs at others and I wish I could expect the same. I worked in a diet office once, and I let people know I was vegan, but offered nothing further. I never asked people why they ate meat, didn't they know that 100% of recorded anemic cases are from people who eat meat and dairy and NOT vegans, etc., etc.? Because I left others alone, I expected similar treatment. One diet tech in particular did not let me go about it. He had a different set of questions everyday for me, disrespecting my beliefs and my reasons for having them. Twice, I proved him wrong about a nutritional subject (the subjects of, particularly, peanut butter vs. sunbutter, and the fact that soy is the only plant complete protein), and only after the latter was solved and I again was the victor did he leave me alone.
Why do those who are different have to continually explain their beliefs? Why does my being vegan or child-free hurt you? Why, if I ask "Why do you eat meat" or "Why in the world did you have kids?!" am I looked at as if I'm alien, but the opposite questions are completely okay?
I am a radical because I have found both through experience and fact that being the norm is the worst you could possibly be. That is why I am vegan, libertarian, AND child-free. Each has years of research and experience following up to my strong belief, and I have found each to be a highly intelligent decision (the vegan belief in general, the other two are intelligent and tailored to myself, of course). People, on the whole, are lost creatures that follow whatever is trendy. As pessimistic as that sounds, it is wholly true, and I strive to be different. The point? I strive to not be you, and not be in the norm. So don't try it. Thank you.
Monday, May 17, 2010
The Anatomy of a Rude Person
Is agist a word? If it is, I would define it as being prejudiced against those of a certain age or age category. I have to admit, I am just a bit agist. Growing up, I was constantly shaking my head at the rude, blunt ways of my grandfather. As I grew into my teens and started my real estate business at fifteen years old, I became even more agist as I was continually looked down upon by those in their middle aged years and older. You know the type: the older generations that have nothing good to say about the younger generations, the ones that think we'll do nothing but ruin the world that they have already spent their chances in.
Hypocritical? Yeah, a little. For my experience, I have been belittled and mocked for being successful in life before the turn of my second decade by those whom have spent many decades on the surface here. I saw the older generations complain about my own as if we were all a bunch of disgusting rats. To be fair, however, there I was, judging the entire generation by the select few I had come into contact with. I have done that before, in different situations. I have to admit that within my life, I have dealt with my own sexism. I have been sexist against both men and women...feeling as if men were all emotionless, sex-hungry drones and women were all baby crazy emotional rollercoasters. I've never truly fit in with either group. I have also been somewhat prejudice against my own race. There are racist white people as there as non-racist whites or any other race, but growing up in a predominantly white area, I received my fair share of experience with both types, and have picked up a bit of resentfulness toward white racists, although personally I have been a victim of racism by both black and Hispanic people. Fair? No. Hypocritical? Yes. But that's the way it is.
How does this relate to rudeness in people? Well, let me tell you a bit about my personal experiences when going to shop or out to eat in public. My husband and I are the type of people who open doors for others out of respect for our fellow human, regardless of whether or not they are walking with assistance or perfectly healthy. Throughout the years of sharing this hobby together we have come across our fair share of people who simply don't acknowledge us as they walk through the door and go about their way. Within five years, if my memory serves me correctly, we have come across a few dozens people that have been this inhumanly rude. All but one were older generations.
The fact that this ticks me off is no new thing. Just recently, however, it was dug out and refreshed in my mind as my husband and I were eating at a cafe. While sitting there, we watched as an older couple, the man in a walker, made their way to the door to exit the cafe. Two young teen girls passed them, then walked through the door that the elderly woman held open without a word. They left, leaving the elderly woman holding the door for her physically challenged husband. My reaction wasn't one of disgust...sure, it was enormously rude and borderline cruel of the teens to walk through a door without a word of thanks, especially one being held by a very old woman and for her handicapped husband. My reaction, instead, was surprise. Shock, even! I had only witnessed such rudeness from older generations before, in all my years of sitting back and watching people, silently studying for my own knowledge and benefit. Finally, two people added to the highly miniscule percentage of young people who are intensely rude, compared to the vast majority of middle aged to elderly generations that have to mark "Rudeness" as their career on their yearly taxes.
Am I bragging? No. Not one person has the right nor the excuse to be so rude, whether they are two years old or three hundred, for all I care. I don't care what you've been through, what your day has been like, who your father is, or what you ate for breakfast, there is NO excuse to be rude and thoughtless toward your fellow human. However, it makes me so much angrier to see middle aged to elderly people being rude. Why?
They should know better. A person has lived eighty years on this earth and still isn't smart enough to understand how to treat people? Acknowledge people? Appreciate random and unnecessary acts of stranger kindness? Like I said, I don't care what you've been through, there is no reason to take out your miserable life on another person. Personally, I have been through major successes and major failures, I have been THE subject of torment by hundreds of kids per day in a middle school setting for over a year to the breaking point, I have lost loved ones, I have been disappointed and caused disappointment, I have seen the fine line between being alive and having your life taken away, I have seen and fought injustice, at times winning but most of the time losing, and I have felt the extreme guilt over the death of a loved one for seven years straight. In twenty-one years...let me tell you something...that is one hell of a lot. I know what it is like to lose faith in myself. I know what it feels like to lose faith in loved ones or even humanity. I know what it feels like to beg God to let me just die. I have gone through a point in my life where I lost my faith and wanted nothing more than to just dissipate into thin air and be forgotten. I have felt heartbreak. I have felt completely and totally alone. But out of all of that...
...I still treat people well. Better than well, even. I go out of my way to strike up conversations with strangers. I go out of my way to make things easier on people. I'll spend a few minutes while at the grocery store to clean up carts in the parking lot because I feel for the employee who has to put them away and because I want to clean up the mess that the other thoughtless people have left. I have tipped up to 50% on a restaurant bill because I know that waiter or waitress probably needs the money more than me. I'll let people cut in line, I'll give people my coupons, my time, my sympathy, and my ear. And I've lived on this earth only one fourth of what I hope to. I care for strangers.
I guess there is really no way to crack into the stubborn head of most of these people and teach them something they couldn't learn in multiple decades, but I sure wish I could. I wish I could teach them compassion. I wish I could prove to them that listening to and caring for one stranger every once in awhile teaches you worlds of information, gives you experience you could never achieve yourself. Not to mention it gives them comfort and someone to talk to.
Technically, I could hold onto pride here and say that I'm so intelligent that I've learned in twenty years what most don't learn in eighty. But I don't want to be technical. I don't want to be the only one who has a mind and a heart. I don't want to live with the fact that most people simply don't care about others. However, I've lived through depression, the death and sickness of loved ones, complete loneliness and abandonment, and hopelessness of the human race. Certainly, I can continue being the only one with a conscience, and maybe, just maybe, show others how to gain one.
Hypocritical? Yeah, a little. For my experience, I have been belittled and mocked for being successful in life before the turn of my second decade by those whom have spent many decades on the surface here. I saw the older generations complain about my own as if we were all a bunch of disgusting rats. To be fair, however, there I was, judging the entire generation by the select few I had come into contact with. I have done that before, in different situations. I have to admit that within my life, I have dealt with my own sexism. I have been sexist against both men and women...feeling as if men were all emotionless, sex-hungry drones and women were all baby crazy emotional rollercoasters. I've never truly fit in with either group. I have also been somewhat prejudice against my own race. There are racist white people as there as non-racist whites or any other race, but growing up in a predominantly white area, I received my fair share of experience with both types, and have picked up a bit of resentfulness toward white racists, although personally I have been a victim of racism by both black and Hispanic people. Fair? No. Hypocritical? Yes. But that's the way it is.
How does this relate to rudeness in people? Well, let me tell you a bit about my personal experiences when going to shop or out to eat in public. My husband and I are the type of people who open doors for others out of respect for our fellow human, regardless of whether or not they are walking with assistance or perfectly healthy. Throughout the years of sharing this hobby together we have come across our fair share of people who simply don't acknowledge us as they walk through the door and go about their way. Within five years, if my memory serves me correctly, we have come across a few dozens people that have been this inhumanly rude. All but one were older generations.
The fact that this ticks me off is no new thing. Just recently, however, it was dug out and refreshed in my mind as my husband and I were eating at a cafe. While sitting there, we watched as an older couple, the man in a walker, made their way to the door to exit the cafe. Two young teen girls passed them, then walked through the door that the elderly woman held open without a word. They left, leaving the elderly woman holding the door for her physically challenged husband. My reaction wasn't one of disgust...sure, it was enormously rude and borderline cruel of the teens to walk through a door without a word of thanks, especially one being held by a very old woman and for her handicapped husband. My reaction, instead, was surprise. Shock, even! I had only witnessed such rudeness from older generations before, in all my years of sitting back and watching people, silently studying for my own knowledge and benefit. Finally, two people added to the highly miniscule percentage of young people who are intensely rude, compared to the vast majority of middle aged to elderly generations that have to mark "Rudeness" as their career on their yearly taxes.
Am I bragging? No. Not one person has the right nor the excuse to be so rude, whether they are two years old or three hundred, for all I care. I don't care what you've been through, what your day has been like, who your father is, or what you ate for breakfast, there is NO excuse to be rude and thoughtless toward your fellow human. However, it makes me so much angrier to see middle aged to elderly people being rude. Why?
They should know better. A person has lived eighty years on this earth and still isn't smart enough to understand how to treat people? Acknowledge people? Appreciate random and unnecessary acts of stranger kindness? Like I said, I don't care what you've been through, there is no reason to take out your miserable life on another person. Personally, I have been through major successes and major failures, I have been THE subject of torment by hundreds of kids per day in a middle school setting for over a year to the breaking point, I have lost loved ones, I have been disappointed and caused disappointment, I have seen the fine line between being alive and having your life taken away, I have seen and fought injustice, at times winning but most of the time losing, and I have felt the extreme guilt over the death of a loved one for seven years straight. In twenty-one years...let me tell you something...that is one hell of a lot. I know what it is like to lose faith in myself. I know what it feels like to lose faith in loved ones or even humanity. I know what it feels like to beg God to let me just die. I have gone through a point in my life where I lost my faith and wanted nothing more than to just dissipate into thin air and be forgotten. I have felt heartbreak. I have felt completely and totally alone. But out of all of that...
...I still treat people well. Better than well, even. I go out of my way to strike up conversations with strangers. I go out of my way to make things easier on people. I'll spend a few minutes while at the grocery store to clean up carts in the parking lot because I feel for the employee who has to put them away and because I want to clean up the mess that the other thoughtless people have left. I have tipped up to 50% on a restaurant bill because I know that waiter or waitress probably needs the money more than me. I'll let people cut in line, I'll give people my coupons, my time, my sympathy, and my ear. And I've lived on this earth only one fourth of what I hope to. I care for strangers.
I guess there is really no way to crack into the stubborn head of most of these people and teach them something they couldn't learn in multiple decades, but I sure wish I could. I wish I could teach them compassion. I wish I could prove to them that listening to and caring for one stranger every once in awhile teaches you worlds of information, gives you experience you could never achieve yourself. Not to mention it gives them comfort and someone to talk to.
Technically, I could hold onto pride here and say that I'm so intelligent that I've learned in twenty years what most don't learn in eighty. But I don't want to be technical. I don't want to be the only one who has a mind and a heart. I don't want to live with the fact that most people simply don't care about others. However, I've lived through depression, the death and sickness of loved ones, complete loneliness and abandonment, and hopelessness of the human race. Certainly, I can continue being the only one with a conscience, and maybe, just maybe, show others how to gain one.
Sunday, May 16, 2010
The Art of Forgiveness
There once was a time when everything was outwardly perfect. Everyone was happy, carefree, family-oriented. Nothing could get better. However, on the inside, people were resentful, hurting, angry at the fact that everything wasn't okay, that actually, they didn't feel they could go on, but they had to act happy so they couldn't be yet another person to add to the list of miserable failures. This time, ladies and gentlemen, was called the 1950's.
Some people still pick up acting careers in life today. There are some of us who want to act happy and perfect so no one can pity us, so people look at us and admire us for being something we're not. For being inhumanly, impossibly, unbelievably perfect.
Yet, there are those of us that have a life that couldn't get any better. We don't brag about this, but we simply don't complain about the small stresses of everyday life. I am one of those people. For years, life was perfect. There was no acting about this, it simply was. I loved who I was as a person, I loved the odd little family I had acquired over the years, consisting of a husband (or, back then of course, a fiancee) and a collection of fuzzy creatures I could call my family. None of them are perfect. My husband has always had self-esteem issues and my cats sometimes miss the litterbox. But the simple fact remains that they are my family, through everything and anything, whether I like it or not.
In order to continue with my rambling today, one radical belief I have must be put to light. I do not believe in divorce. Nope, I am actually a twenty-one year old morally old-fashioned woman. I have always viewed marriage as a once in a lifetime thing. You do it once, you don't do it twice. Why? Because at a wedding, you stand there next to someone you love and you promise that he or she will be there next to you until one of you falls over dead (assuming this is from natural or accidental causes not relating to the partner's hand, of course). You promise "till death do us part," yet most people nowadays hear "Until weight gain, mental or physical health disabilities, accidents, mistakes, cheating, major disagreements, kid arguments do us part."
Don't get me wrong; I believe in separation. If it is best for the couple, why not? I also believe that people make mistakes, and although marriage is something too important to be taken lightly, I know some women marry men who are abusive, etc. But for me, personally, no divorce. AND, if I were to get a divorce, I would remain single for life. I also have never understood "moving on" after the death of a spouse. Move on? How do you move on with only half of your being? You don't. I never want to touch another man like I've touched my husband. I don't want intimate memories to be shared with anyone but the two of us, because to do so would be degrading.
I also believe in different types of love. Love, true love, and true pure love. Love can come multiple times in a life. True love is rare. True pure love is once. I believe more than I believe I am sitting here that what I have with my husband is true pure love. There is absolutely no one else now that I've met him. I don't find other men attractive...I can honestly say I love every single thing about my husband, even the seemingly negative things, simply because I love the fact that I am the person who can work with him on those negative things. My husband isn't perfect. And I adore that.
So, back to the point, I had my husband and I had our cats. I had a house I could call home, a nice, working car in the driveway, food in the pantry and food in my belly, and enough free time to kill brain cells by itself. I absolutely loved life. According to me, it was perfect. I needed nothing to make me happier. I was high on life. As corny and disgusting as that sounds, it simply was.
The unthinkable is an ugly thing, and just last week it gnashed its decomposing teeth right through my heart. My husband committed an act against our marriage, one that couples break up over, marriages fall and deplete over. The shock was the first thing I felt. My husband wasn't like that...right? He would never do such a thing. I would have bet the Second Coming would be here and long gone before he'd ever even imagine committing such an offending act against me.
Then, more things came to light about the situation, and I wasn't sure if that made it better or worse. My husband hated himself for what he had done...he didn't understand why he did it...lying on the bed next to me during one of our talks afterwards, his face was hot and wet with tears and his life was crumbling. He loathed himself and wished he could understand why he couldn't remember when he had done it, what he had done, and the only reason he could give me for doing it was that he felt like he wanted to hurt me. And it hated that, in and of itself.
Passive-Aggressive Personality Disorder is something that turns people into something they don't want to be. My husband has it, and he hates it. Knowing that the act he committed against our marriage was done when he was out of his right mind is of a tiny comfort during this healing process, but it is of larger comfort when I compare it to a personal memory of mine when I went through the same thing. It is a story saved for a day all of its own, but it is one I know well, and it is the only reason (besides my gut instinct) that I can truly believe my husband is telling the truth when he says he didn't want to. He didn't want to, but he did. And to prevent anything like this from happening again, we'll have to practice using our beliefs.
I don't believe in divorce. And although my husband is less strict on this belief he is stern on the fact--not the belief, the fact--that he will die by my side or I will die by his, whichever comes first. Come hell and high water, we will get through it. I hung on to the hope that our marriage could once again be the perfect union it was. Within the first two days I knew about my husband's mistake, I wanted to die of heartbreak. I had the first suicidal thoughts I'd had in seven years, and I didn't eat.
Now, only a few days after that, I can say our marriage is once again the perfect union it was. When I woke up this morning, a love note was waiting for me on top of my laptop, where he knew I'd find it. I could live by his words alone, and today they only magnified how far I've come in forgiving him over the past few days. Working with his disorder may be hard, and it may be a long process.
But as I repeated to my husband on March 31, 2009, "Till death do us part." It may be a long process, but we have forever.
Some people still pick up acting careers in life today. There are some of us who want to act happy and perfect so no one can pity us, so people look at us and admire us for being something we're not. For being inhumanly, impossibly, unbelievably perfect.
Yet, there are those of us that have a life that couldn't get any better. We don't brag about this, but we simply don't complain about the small stresses of everyday life. I am one of those people. For years, life was perfect. There was no acting about this, it simply was. I loved who I was as a person, I loved the odd little family I had acquired over the years, consisting of a husband (or, back then of course, a fiancee) and a collection of fuzzy creatures I could call my family. None of them are perfect. My husband has always had self-esteem issues and my cats sometimes miss the litterbox. But the simple fact remains that they are my family, through everything and anything, whether I like it or not.
In order to continue with my rambling today, one radical belief I have must be put to light. I do not believe in divorce. Nope, I am actually a twenty-one year old morally old-fashioned woman. I have always viewed marriage as a once in a lifetime thing. You do it once, you don't do it twice. Why? Because at a wedding, you stand there next to someone you love and you promise that he or she will be there next to you until one of you falls over dead (assuming this is from natural or accidental causes not relating to the partner's hand, of course). You promise "till death do us part," yet most people nowadays hear "Until weight gain, mental or physical health disabilities, accidents, mistakes, cheating, major disagreements, kid arguments do us part."
Don't get me wrong; I believe in separation. If it is best for the couple, why not? I also believe that people make mistakes, and although marriage is something too important to be taken lightly, I know some women marry men who are abusive, etc. But for me, personally, no divorce. AND, if I were to get a divorce, I would remain single for life. I also have never understood "moving on" after the death of a spouse. Move on? How do you move on with only half of your being? You don't. I never want to touch another man like I've touched my husband. I don't want intimate memories to be shared with anyone but the two of us, because to do so would be degrading.
I also believe in different types of love. Love, true love, and true pure love. Love can come multiple times in a life. True love is rare. True pure love is once. I believe more than I believe I am sitting here that what I have with my husband is true pure love. There is absolutely no one else now that I've met him. I don't find other men attractive...I can honestly say I love every single thing about my husband, even the seemingly negative things, simply because I love the fact that I am the person who can work with him on those negative things. My husband isn't perfect. And I adore that.
So, back to the point, I had my husband and I had our cats. I had a house I could call home, a nice, working car in the driveway, food in the pantry and food in my belly, and enough free time to kill brain cells by itself. I absolutely loved life. According to me, it was perfect. I needed nothing to make me happier. I was high on life. As corny and disgusting as that sounds, it simply was.
The unthinkable is an ugly thing, and just last week it gnashed its decomposing teeth right through my heart. My husband committed an act against our marriage, one that couples break up over, marriages fall and deplete over. The shock was the first thing I felt. My husband wasn't like that...right? He would never do such a thing. I would have bet the Second Coming would be here and long gone before he'd ever even imagine committing such an offending act against me.
Then, more things came to light about the situation, and I wasn't sure if that made it better or worse. My husband hated himself for what he had done...he didn't understand why he did it...lying on the bed next to me during one of our talks afterwards, his face was hot and wet with tears and his life was crumbling. He loathed himself and wished he could understand why he couldn't remember when he had done it, what he had done, and the only reason he could give me for doing it was that he felt like he wanted to hurt me. And it hated that, in and of itself.
Passive-Aggressive Personality Disorder is something that turns people into something they don't want to be. My husband has it, and he hates it. Knowing that the act he committed against our marriage was done when he was out of his right mind is of a tiny comfort during this healing process, but it is of larger comfort when I compare it to a personal memory of mine when I went through the same thing. It is a story saved for a day all of its own, but it is one I know well, and it is the only reason (besides my gut instinct) that I can truly believe my husband is telling the truth when he says he didn't want to. He didn't want to, but he did. And to prevent anything like this from happening again, we'll have to practice using our beliefs.
I don't believe in divorce. And although my husband is less strict on this belief he is stern on the fact--not the belief, the fact--that he will die by my side or I will die by his, whichever comes first. Come hell and high water, we will get through it. I hung on to the hope that our marriage could once again be the perfect union it was. Within the first two days I knew about my husband's mistake, I wanted to die of heartbreak. I had the first suicidal thoughts I'd had in seven years, and I didn't eat.
Now, only a few days after that, I can say our marriage is once again the perfect union it was. When I woke up this morning, a love note was waiting for me on top of my laptop, where he knew I'd find it. I could live by his words alone, and today they only magnified how far I've come in forgiving him over the past few days. Working with his disorder may be hard, and it may be a long process.
But as I repeated to my husband on March 31, 2009, "Till death do us part." It may be a long process, but we have forever.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Intelligence and moral beliefs: the differences and conflicts?
Common beliefs, in most circumstances, come about for two reasons. The first reason is because a belief is understandable to the general public and is popular or accepted. The second is that it is completely possible for a belief to become common because it truly is intelligently thought-through step by step.
Some beliefs cross that line of intelligence, however, and begin settling into the "moral" category. One may believe, for example, that abortion is murder because they believe a fetus is a human life and you are killing this human life. This is a morally-based belief because this person is against abortion as they think it is immoral. When you have another person whom believes that a fetus is not a human life because it has not yet been scientifically or otherwise proven, this is an intelligence-based belief. This is not to say that anti-abortion people are not intelligent; however, anti-abortion beliefs tend to be based on moral rather than factual arguments. The pro-choice belief that a fetus has not yet been proven to be a human without a reasonable doubt is intelligence based because of the fact that the human race currently does not have the intelligence to say one way or another.
There are other arguments for and against abortion, however, such as the pro-choice argument that a woman is the one holding the fetus and not vice versa, and therefore, should be given the choice to go through with the pregnancy or not. This is not an intelligence based belief; although it is true that the woman is the one harboring the fetus (and that this can be proved without a reasonable doubt), the argument is morally based because it is for the well-being of the woman, saying it is immoral to force a woman through pregnancy.
Whether a person is on one side of the fence or the other is not the point here. The point is that when one belief which is intelligently-based comes into conflict with a morally-based belief, the consequences tend to be many hard feelings and no answer to the equation. A person whom believes abortion is murder will hardly listen to an argument that a beating heart does not make up a person. A person whom doesn't believe a fetus is a living human will have an "abortion is murder" argument go through one ear and out the other. When you are debating for moral purposes, why would you listen to intelligence? Vice versa?
People tend to get into debates and/or arguments for one purpose: to win and to change the other party's mind. To truly make a difference, however, I would argue that you must enter a debate with learning in mind. Without you or the other person learning anything, what have you accomplished? Spewing out conflicting beliefs to stir anger is not an accomplishment. Learning a fact or new belief within an argument can go for you or against you; the quality of your argument will determine that.
There are many facts when it comes to moral beliefs, although it does not make the belief factual. For example, being vegan, I could spew out that more meat-eaters get anemia than vegans whom do not take in animal iron. Although this is a fact, does it make my moral reasons for being vegan factual? Of course not. My more intelligent arguments for being vegan, such as the anatomy of the human body in comparison to a true carnivore or even omnivore, the facts when it comes to diet and disease, etc., are not based on moral beliefs. And even though conflicting moral and intelligent arguments make for one hell of a long and endless debate, the two, when joined together, makes for one well thought-out and sturdy belief.
Some beliefs cross that line of intelligence, however, and begin settling into the "moral" category. One may believe, for example, that abortion is murder because they believe a fetus is a human life and you are killing this human life. This is a morally-based belief because this person is against abortion as they think it is immoral. When you have another person whom believes that a fetus is not a human life because it has not yet been scientifically or otherwise proven, this is an intelligence-based belief. This is not to say that anti-abortion people are not intelligent; however, anti-abortion beliefs tend to be based on moral rather than factual arguments. The pro-choice belief that a fetus has not yet been proven to be a human without a reasonable doubt is intelligence based because of the fact that the human race currently does not have the intelligence to say one way or another.
There are other arguments for and against abortion, however, such as the pro-choice argument that a woman is the one holding the fetus and not vice versa, and therefore, should be given the choice to go through with the pregnancy or not. This is not an intelligence based belief; although it is true that the woman is the one harboring the fetus (and that this can be proved without a reasonable doubt), the argument is morally based because it is for the well-being of the woman, saying it is immoral to force a woman through pregnancy.
Whether a person is on one side of the fence or the other is not the point here. The point is that when one belief which is intelligently-based comes into conflict with a morally-based belief, the consequences tend to be many hard feelings and no answer to the equation. A person whom believes abortion is murder will hardly listen to an argument that a beating heart does not make up a person. A person whom doesn't believe a fetus is a living human will have an "abortion is murder" argument go through one ear and out the other. When you are debating for moral purposes, why would you listen to intelligence? Vice versa?
People tend to get into debates and/or arguments for one purpose: to win and to change the other party's mind. To truly make a difference, however, I would argue that you must enter a debate with learning in mind. Without you or the other person learning anything, what have you accomplished? Spewing out conflicting beliefs to stir anger is not an accomplishment. Learning a fact or new belief within an argument can go for you or against you; the quality of your argument will determine that.
There are many facts when it comes to moral beliefs, although it does not make the belief factual. For example, being vegan, I could spew out that more meat-eaters get anemia than vegans whom do not take in animal iron. Although this is a fact, does it make my moral reasons for being vegan factual? Of course not. My more intelligent arguments for being vegan, such as the anatomy of the human body in comparison to a true carnivore or even omnivore, the facts when it comes to diet and disease, etc., are not based on moral beliefs. And even though conflicting moral and intelligent arguments make for one hell of a long and endless debate, the two, when joined together, makes for one well thought-out and sturdy belief.
Monday, May 11, 2009
First Blog: Why am I a radical?
As according to www.dictionary.reference.com, something that is radical is "thoroughgoing or extreme, especially as regards change from accepted or traditional forms". To put it mildly, I have radical beliefs on a few aspects of life ranging from parenting (or lack thereof), to politics, to diet, and a few less important subjects. These radical beliefs, when brought up in a typical conversation with someone I don't know well, tends to cause disbelief in the other person or questions as to why I am the way I am.
We all have beliefs that range out of the normality of things. One could argue that being a Republican whom is pro-choice is radical, although I would hope most would agree that a political party is not a definition of one's individuality but a general set of ideas that revolve around political subject matter. Although radical beliefs tend to cause an uproar and confusion when in debates (and I am quite used to being judged for being individualistic, to say it in one way), my own opinion leads me to believe that a society where individuals were encouraged to act and think the same would only succeed to bring us to a 1984 type world where people are nothing but tools and sheep.
Am I saying that anyone whom does not have drastically weird or out-of-the-norm beliefs is a sheep in a herd? Of course not; even if you had a drastically weird belief forced upon enormous groups of people, these people would become void of personality and tend to follow rather than lead. Having a belief that is shared by many does not make you a sheep. However, bringing up a radical belief tends to make the other parties within the conversation look at you as if you are alien.
Let me announce quickly the top three reasons I am a radical: I am child-free (meaning I do not and will not have children because I simply don't want them, not because I cannot), I am vegan (in simpler terms, pure vegetarian; one whom abstains from all animal products ranging from meat to dairy to honey to leather, silk, and gelatin), and I am a libertarian (a political party that is in the extreme minority; it's basic and uncomplicated approach is the smaller government the better and to allow people control over their own lives). Obviously, there are many other child-free people, both men and women, out there. The same with vegans and libertarians. However, we must admit to each other that there are far more parents than non-parents in the United States (where I reside), and that there are far more meat-eaters in America than non, and finally that the number of libertarians compared with Republicans and Democrats is hardly an issue because the numbers and percentages are so vastly different.
Do these three beliefs make me crazy? Of course not; they make me an individual. No one in this world has every single belief in the same order of importance as myself; I would be willing to bet that no one has the same as you, or the person you saw last. We cannot be placed within a group so long as we say we cannot.
Are these the only things that make me radical? That could be argued. The very fact that I'm putting the generic label of a radical on myself could be argued as well with the beliefs and issues I've put onto the table. This is the way I choose to look at myself, so to argue would be futile.
I consider myself somewhat radical for choosing to live a moral lifestyle when it comes to entertainment, for example. I do not watch movies with sexual content (even sensuality), nudity, graphic violence and/or gore, for example, because I do not think it is right. I have not seen a movie with this content for over five years because I think it is unnecessary and disgusting. Many people don't like this content but don't go so far as to stop supporting or funding it. Do I have a problem with these people? No. I don't understand why they continue to watch things they don't care for, but their decisions are their own.
The same with videogames. I love videogames and actually do consider them one of my more entertaining hobbies. But I will not play videogames with the same content that I consider to be immoral in movies. Although listening to some music is inevitable (overhearing a neighbor car's blaring stereo, for example), I avoid music that sends wrong messages as well.
This tiny belief of mine--avoiding what I believe to be immoral--is, surprisingly, not accepted or not believed by many whom hear of it. Why some think that my decisions to avoid things such as these are troubling to themselves is a mystery to me. Why people go flock to the latest teen movie with the unnecessary sex scenes and humor is beyond me, but has no effect on my personal life and therefore is not a problem. I was once told that I must be egotistical since I don't want to see anyone's naked body besides my own. Not only is that a faulty argument and completely off topic and point, but it doesn't even make sense. If I only wanted to see myself naked, being married wouldn't make sense and I'd run around naked in a mirrored room. Even if being egotistical were the reason, why would this person ruin precious time of his/her life worrying about why I make the decisions I do? I believe that intimacy is a beautiful thing for two people to share together; I do not believe that it is something for me to intrude upon, whether real or acted out.
Another arguable belief of mine is what I think of as relaxed Christianity...I am Christian but also believe in allowing others to make their own decisions. Sure, I will tell someone else I am Christian and why and what I love about it--if they ask or if we are in a conversation about just that subject. Why force my opinions on another person? How is telling someone they will go to hell or that they are sinning going to get them closer to God? I am no perfect person by any means; therefore, I will not go around telling everyone else that they are sinners without admitting my own sins. Actually, I would not tell anyone they were a sinner no matter the case; that is not my job in this life. I believe the best way to be a Christian is to be one. Kind and compassion will always win my favor over screaming at someone that they will go to hell because they do not believe in Jesus.
Perhaps the most radical thing about me is how some of my beliefs tend to conflict in the view of standard belief systems. For example, many Christians have children because they truly believe they are a gift from God, and/or are against birth control because of their view of the Bible, and/or believe it is a sin to go against the "be fruitful and multiply" line of the Good Book. There are many Christians, as well, whom are against not eating meat because "God said it was okay." I was even told once by a pastor that being vegan was a religion by itself; he told me that I worshipped plants rather than God and did not use all of His gifts. I found it appalling that this man was even a pastor. He was not judging me, necessarily; he was judging his assumption of my character.
My beliefs may seem like they conflict because of what society and/or the average person may deem a belief entails. For example, for some Christians, being vegetarian or vegan is not, in their opinion, using all of the resources the Lord gave us. I am a Christian, and my view on meat-eating is simply that the Lord gave us dominion over our animals, much like the Queen of England has dominion over her people. It does not mean she eats them; it simply means she must take care of them and watch for their well-being for the sake of her own. I do not think meat-eating is sinful, but I avoid it because I believe it is immoral and that immorality and Christianity are two that cannot mix well but tend to get forced together too often.
This is why individuality is so beautiful. Debating (nicely, of course, not resorting to name-calling and overly ignorant assumptions) can teach anyone new things if they allow it. Beliefs and their reasons for being within the individual, if different than your own, can teach a person how one's upbringing conflicts or goes hand-in-hand with what they were taught or what they have experienced. This does not mean you must change your opinion or your mind-set; however, if you are open-minded and learn to accept, you can become wiser than others whose world is black and white and anyone whom is anything other than that is wrong. If you open your mind wide enough, you may just find more intelligence to add to your own arguments or beliefs.
Or you may find your own opinions changing for the better.
We all have beliefs that range out of the normality of things. One could argue that being a Republican whom is pro-choice is radical, although I would hope most would agree that a political party is not a definition of one's individuality but a general set of ideas that revolve around political subject matter. Although radical beliefs tend to cause an uproar and confusion when in debates (and I am quite used to being judged for being individualistic, to say it in one way), my own opinion leads me to believe that a society where individuals were encouraged to act and think the same would only succeed to bring us to a 1984 type world where people are nothing but tools and sheep.
Am I saying that anyone whom does not have drastically weird or out-of-the-norm beliefs is a sheep in a herd? Of course not; even if you had a drastically weird belief forced upon enormous groups of people, these people would become void of personality and tend to follow rather than lead. Having a belief that is shared by many does not make you a sheep. However, bringing up a radical belief tends to make the other parties within the conversation look at you as if you are alien.
Let me announce quickly the top three reasons I am a radical: I am child-free (meaning I do not and will not have children because I simply don't want them, not because I cannot), I am vegan (in simpler terms, pure vegetarian; one whom abstains from all animal products ranging from meat to dairy to honey to leather, silk, and gelatin), and I am a libertarian (a political party that is in the extreme minority; it's basic and uncomplicated approach is the smaller government the better and to allow people control over their own lives). Obviously, there are many other child-free people, both men and women, out there. The same with vegans and libertarians. However, we must admit to each other that there are far more parents than non-parents in the United States (where I reside), and that there are far more meat-eaters in America than non, and finally that the number of libertarians compared with Republicans and Democrats is hardly an issue because the numbers and percentages are so vastly different.
Do these three beliefs make me crazy? Of course not; they make me an individual. No one in this world has every single belief in the same order of importance as myself; I would be willing to bet that no one has the same as you, or the person you saw last. We cannot be placed within a group so long as we say we cannot.
Are these the only things that make me radical? That could be argued. The very fact that I'm putting the generic label of a radical on myself could be argued as well with the beliefs and issues I've put onto the table. This is the way I choose to look at myself, so to argue would be futile.
I consider myself somewhat radical for choosing to live a moral lifestyle when it comes to entertainment, for example. I do not watch movies with sexual content (even sensuality), nudity, graphic violence and/or gore, for example, because I do not think it is right. I have not seen a movie with this content for over five years because I think it is unnecessary and disgusting. Many people don't like this content but don't go so far as to stop supporting or funding it. Do I have a problem with these people? No. I don't understand why they continue to watch things they don't care for, but their decisions are their own.
The same with videogames. I love videogames and actually do consider them one of my more entertaining hobbies. But I will not play videogames with the same content that I consider to be immoral in movies. Although listening to some music is inevitable (overhearing a neighbor car's blaring stereo, for example), I avoid music that sends wrong messages as well.
This tiny belief of mine--avoiding what I believe to be immoral--is, surprisingly, not accepted or not believed by many whom hear of it. Why some think that my decisions to avoid things such as these are troubling to themselves is a mystery to me. Why people go flock to the latest teen movie with the unnecessary sex scenes and humor is beyond me, but has no effect on my personal life and therefore is not a problem. I was once told that I must be egotistical since I don't want to see anyone's naked body besides my own. Not only is that a faulty argument and completely off topic and point, but it doesn't even make sense. If I only wanted to see myself naked, being married wouldn't make sense and I'd run around naked in a mirrored room. Even if being egotistical were the reason, why would this person ruin precious time of his/her life worrying about why I make the decisions I do? I believe that intimacy is a beautiful thing for two people to share together; I do not believe that it is something for me to intrude upon, whether real or acted out.
Another arguable belief of mine is what I think of as relaxed Christianity...I am Christian but also believe in allowing others to make their own decisions. Sure, I will tell someone else I am Christian and why and what I love about it--if they ask or if we are in a conversation about just that subject. Why force my opinions on another person? How is telling someone they will go to hell or that they are sinning going to get them closer to God? I am no perfect person by any means; therefore, I will not go around telling everyone else that they are sinners without admitting my own sins. Actually, I would not tell anyone they were a sinner no matter the case; that is not my job in this life. I believe the best way to be a Christian is to be one. Kind and compassion will always win my favor over screaming at someone that they will go to hell because they do not believe in Jesus.
Perhaps the most radical thing about me is how some of my beliefs tend to conflict in the view of standard belief systems. For example, many Christians have children because they truly believe they are a gift from God, and/or are against birth control because of their view of the Bible, and/or believe it is a sin to go against the "be fruitful and multiply" line of the Good Book. There are many Christians, as well, whom are against not eating meat because "God said it was okay." I was even told once by a pastor that being vegan was a religion by itself; he told me that I worshipped plants rather than God and did not use all of His gifts. I found it appalling that this man was even a pastor. He was not judging me, necessarily; he was judging his assumption of my character.
My beliefs may seem like they conflict because of what society and/or the average person may deem a belief entails. For example, for some Christians, being vegetarian or vegan is not, in their opinion, using all of the resources the Lord gave us. I am a Christian, and my view on meat-eating is simply that the Lord gave us dominion over our animals, much like the Queen of England has dominion over her people. It does not mean she eats them; it simply means she must take care of them and watch for their well-being for the sake of her own. I do not think meat-eating is sinful, but I avoid it because I believe it is immoral and that immorality and Christianity are two that cannot mix well but tend to get forced together too often.
This is why individuality is so beautiful. Debating (nicely, of course, not resorting to name-calling and overly ignorant assumptions) can teach anyone new things if they allow it. Beliefs and their reasons for being within the individual, if different than your own, can teach a person how one's upbringing conflicts or goes hand-in-hand with what they were taught or what they have experienced. This does not mean you must change your opinion or your mind-set; however, if you are open-minded and learn to accept, you can become wiser than others whose world is black and white and anyone whom is anything other than that is wrong. If you open your mind wide enough, you may just find more intelligence to add to your own arguments or beliefs.
Or you may find your own opinions changing for the better.
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