Page 368: That Kinda Imaginary Scenario

“3 sessions a week and you’ll see the result pretty soon. I’ve been doing it and I’ve lost 4 kilos in 2 months” said the lady I met on my first Muay Thai session. I just smiled and told her that being slim was not my only goal. That what I wanted more was to stay healthy, strong and be more confident. I also told her I read somewhere that self-defense class was a good way to maintain your confidence to stand up for yourself. To train yourself to be stronger. And because more often than not, yoga makes me sleepy. She made something with her face that almost looked like a smile and uttered a sarcastic “mmm..okay mmh-huh”. Pretty much like this ↓

I wasn’t annoyed because I thought she thought I was fat. I was more..baffled. And then I heard that voice that nobody else but me could hear, “why did she react like that, like she didn’t believe that I signed up for the class because I wanted to be healthy too? Did she think I’m that kinda woman who would shame other women who care a lot about their appearance? Did she think I judge her? Etc etc”.

I was about to text my bf about that, but before I hit the send button, I stopped, and then deleted the whole sentences. Because I knew he would say something like..it’s probably just in my head and the “mmm..okay mmh-huh” meant nothing, followed by some encouragement to get over it because it wouldn’t affect my motivation or my life in general. Because I knew that it was just me allowing that kinda imaginary scenario to take over my brain.

image courtesy: here

It’s one of the things that I admire from him, made me fall for him and envy him: he always tries to see the best in people first and don’t overthink what people would think about him, especially strangers. 

But when you have some (self-diagnosed) anxiety disorder, you tend to overanalyze things. I’m not trying to make it as a justification for my oddity (well, maybe a little bit, heheh), but it’s still hard to control it, sometimes. And with this case, it’s probably because I still see that some women still shaming other women for being..not in the middle. When you’re too skinny because somehow you just can’t get fat, they shame you. When you embrace your curves or big physique, they say you’re promoting obesity. When you enjoy casual sex, you get slut shaming. When you declare your vow of chastity, some women prude shaming you. When you love make-up, they say you are fixated on your looks and just wanna attract some potential partners. And don’t get me started with working moms vs stay-at-home moms.

So sometimes, those thoughts above give birth to tiny bad thought of what will happen to me about being judged and bullied by others. And when my anxiety and hate of being judged by other people work together to babysit and nurture it, it becomes something I overthink about. 

Yes, I'm in love with her work. image courtesy: petunia.byisatg

Sometimes, telling myself that “other people’s judgments are actually inconsequential to my life and I’m not defined by them” calms me down. But sometimes, it takes time to tame it. I hope I’m getting better at it.

Page 324: Fleabag

There are two types of sadness that can caused by a movie or a TV show, in my opinion:
1. Classic one. The one that makes you cry, the kind of sadness that’s easier to be understood. The less complicated one.
2. The one that shakes your soul, makes you speechless, haunts you for days, and once in a while makes you think about your life. But there’s no tears, it’s just inexplicable and sort of depressive, just like Darren Aronofsky’s movies.

Fleabag contains the second one, like most dark comedy shows. The final episode from its season 1 made me feel uncomfortable after some mysteries finally have been revealed and the dots have been connected. I read somewhere that Phoebe Waller-Bridge, the writer and creator intentionally put the sad and or shocking scene after a funny one. Because that's the right time to attack the audience with the right amount of bitterness since happiness makes them a little bit fragile. I personally think it’s brilliant. Sick, sort of, ha, but brilliant.

image courtesy: here

image courtesy: here

Fleabag is definitely for people with morbid sense of humor – like me and my friend who recommended it to me; who love to laugh at shitty things that happen in our life since that’s one of our best coping mechanisms; who more often than not, laugh at inappropriate moments; and have fondness for metaphors and irony. But as a single woman in this modern life who sometimes feels the anxiety for knowing that some people in my life expect me to have a life that’s perceived as a normal one, it’s more than just entertaining. It makes me feel normal and not so alone.

I can relate to some of her problems. I can relate to loneliness that makes her more reckless. I can relate to her effort to be an independent woman who's too proud to admit that she needs help sometimes. I understand her weariness for having a big sister who seems to have a normal life. I understand that sometimes, laughing at problems that can make other people cry is your only weapon to make life more bearable and postpone the ache.

image courtesy: here

Fleabag is a not a lovable character. She’s pretty far from delightful, and you can’t say that she has many endearing qualities. Pity her? Yes, maybe. But at some point you might wish she kills herself. But the way she sees life and the way she survives in this life makes her interesting. She’s every fucked up 30(ish) person who is still clueless, silly, (sometimes) childish, with foggy career path and doesn’t seem to make it. She’s the anti-heroine you need to make you feel better about yourself, the martyr that put us on pedestal. 

But she’s also every single middle class girl who sometimes asks herself “what the hell is wrong with me?” or “how did I get here?” for lacking the ability to control herself from repeating the same mistake.

The series also talks about some issues related to woman, for instance, male ego in a changing world where gender equality is rising and they have to share the big cake of privilege and opportunities. (Okay, sorry, spoiler alert) One episode presented this in such a hilarious way. They had this camp to make men "a better man" by allowing them to yell at this sex doll about things that annoy them from women in their life. Like "slut!" or "who did you blow to get that job?". They had female only camp too, which was way weirder. One of the most memorable scenes for me was the speech that fleabag heard in the camp her father sent her to:

Leaving your voice in your head and trapping your heads in your skull. Think of it as a thought prison in your mind. Firstly, we're going to teach you how to breathe. Then we will have a short meditation, then we will find our sanctuary in the partaking of menial tasks all in perfect silence. Principal rules are no talking. If you need to communicate with any of our other superiors, you can write on that board. No matter what happens, a word must not be heard.

It’s like a satire of how women are still, somehow oppressed to not really express their thoughts and be more submissive. You’d find it funny, you might chuckle, but also curse a little bit.

I also liked how fleabag discussed female sexuality and modern dating (and the plight of it). From sexting, hooking up, to instant gratification and complacency. Her comment on anal sex was memorable and the masturbating part was silly yet true (sometimes, you're the only one whom you can count on, right, girls? Ha). After a terrific first season, I wonder what Phoebe Waller-Bridge would bring in the next season – something that I’m excited about.

image courtesy: here

Page 300: Anger

“You sound like an angry feminist,” he said, after we talked about how society is still more lenient on men when it comes to expressing sexuality and showing the rights to our bodies.

About rape and victim blaming.
About street harassment.
About being pro-choice.
About slut and prude shaming.
About how sometimes we lie about having boyfriend because some men don’t understand “no, I’m not interested in you. Period” when they ask us to go out on a date. Seriously, are we some kinda things that should have owners and when we’re single it means that we’re available?

“Maybe I am. I have the right to be angry. I just wish that someday my anger would contribute to change things I’m frustrated with,” I said.

image courtesy: http://www.terre-des-femmes.ch/en/

Page 230: So-Called-Reality

Sometimes “reality” shows make me want to throw TV with whatever things I could reach with my hands – of course something that tender enough so I won’t break it and still can watch movies and news. IMVHO, most of them are stupid, misleading, and fake. I know…I know…that it’s probably just a matter of scenario, that those people in that shows are different if you meet them in person. I understand that those shows have edited lotsa things from their daily life. That somehow, those shows have rebuilt their images. But some reality shows and their imbecilities just make me take a deep breath, or roll my eyes, or snort.

The show that pisses me off the most is probably Beauty and the Geek. Seriously, the way it uses dumb stereotypes not only debase pretty women, but also smart men. Oh yeah, if you’re pretty and sexy, you can’t be smart. If you’re blessed with flawless skin-amazing bone structure-nice curve you don’t have that obligation or need to read books and fill your brain with knowledge that can save you from being a stupid girl. Oh yeah, that’s definitely right, if you’re a geek male you have to look weird, sometimes creepy but then you can be that shallow when you meet gorgeous girls with huge boobies and wear slutty outfits. But hey, guess what, three seasons so far, so maybe its rank is good enough. In short, it has audience who probably love it to the bones.

Beauty and the Geek reminds me of another reality show that pretty popular when I was still a high school student, The Swan. Ugh, it showed that it saw how banal our society was. That it’s very hard for most people to accept an ugly person. Well, yeah, probably it’s true. But instead of provided wise solutions, that show, somehow, (again) IMVHO triggered and encouraged people to think that the only solution for that “problem” was plastic surgeon. Yeah yeah, some episodes showed me that those methods also good for their health, but more often than not were about outside beauty.

But I shouldn’t have been surprised with those kinda reality shows, right? It’s not the first time I saw something stupid on TV. And to quote Picasso, “the world today doesn't make sense”. So yeah, guess that the least that I can do is remember that those shows have their own realities. And it has failed to enlighten me, not even entertaining. Period.

Page 166: Yes...Yes... L.I.S.T.E.N

"LISTEN: Women's bodies, even ones into which you get to stick your penis, are not yours. Women have the right to be gross, to have hair, to be slow, to put on make-up, to not put on make-up, to wear fake eyelashes, to smell good or bad, and to be human beings. Women are not your dog our your lawn or your living room, you do not get to prune and groom and design us, and negotiating things like hygiene and style within a relationship is a matter of mutual respect. My right to do my own nails does not stop where your personal boner for trimmed cuticles begins.

Also, women: If you are single, it is not because your fake eyelashes are too bushy or Kevin doesn't like cucumber lotion. This shit is an oppressive waste of your time. Here's my new beauty tip for everyone on earth: Go read a book or something."

- Lindy West, Jezebel. Full article: here -