My Reality: I Pull My Hair Out

(not my real hair)

by Jarrah Hodge

I’ve been struggling with whether or not to write on this topic ever since we started the “My Reality” series here at Gender Focus. On the one hand I think it’s important to share these stories because the stigma involved with mental illness is a huge problem. On the other hand, that very same stigma made me worried that talking about my experiences would cause my friends and coworkers to look at me differently.

But I finally decided to face up to the potential consequences because of GF contributor Roxanna Bennett, who is writing about her own experiences on her blog Choose Your Own Adventure. She drew my attention to the fact that last week (May 6-12) was Mental Health Week in Canada, and the main goals are raising awareness and fighting stigma.

So here goes.

I’m a gainfully-employed communications professional, a cat-loving uber-nerd, an occasional TV commentator and a feminist activist and award-winning blogger. I also happen to have a disorder that was until recently known as trichotillomania. In recognition of the fact that the disorder has nothing to do with “mania”, the DSM-5 has now added an explainer to the name: Trichotillomania (Hair-Pulling Disorder).

Trichotillomania (I’m just going to use the short-form “trich” or the previously-recognized abbreviation TTM for the rest of this article) is classified as an Anxiety and Obsessive-Compulsive Spectrum Disorder and it is characterized by the irresistible urge to pull out hair from your scalp, eyebrows or other parts of your body. I’ll start by giving a few more facts before I go in to how I experience it.

According to Psychiatric Times, up to 3.4% of adults have TTM (Olivia Munn is probably the most well-known example) and nobody knows for sure what causes it, though there are theories. It is not a nervous habit that you can just stop. It is also not causally-linked to experiencing child abuse or other trauma. It does not come out of a desire to self-harm; it doesn’t even hurt. According to the Trichotillomania Learning Center, trich actually acts as a “a self-soothing mechanism” to alleviate anxiety.

Tackling stigma is important in dealing with all mental illness but in trich has a particular direct connection to beauty ideals in our society. Most people with TTM are girls and women like me, who deal with constant messages telling them they have to look a certain way. When their disorder leaves them with bald patches on their head or gaps in their eyelashes, many withdraw. If a trichster doesn’t feel their elaborate beauty routine is enough to let them fit in, they may isolate themselves from work, school and/or medical care. Read more

Posted on May 16, 2013 by jarrahpenguin in My Reality 10 Comments

My Reality: Racism in Academia, Then and Now

Emily and her Great-Uncle Roy

by Emily Yakashiro. Emily is a 23 year old third-generation, mixed-race Canadian strongly committed to feminism and anti-oppression. She has a background in anti-violence work, and is the founder and editor of The Closet Feminist, a Canadian website focusing on fashion, personal style, and of course feminism which launched in December 2012.

One year ago I had the privilege of graduating from the University of British Columbia with my Bachelor of Arts. More importantly, I had the honor of graduating with my great-uncle, Roy Oshiro. I was 22, he was 90. My family picked me up and we drove to the Chan Centre; Uncle Roy jumped a plane from Okinawa. The journey we both experienced graduating from this particular institution was certainly a momentous one for my family, and has had me reflect a lot over the past year about what our graduations and education have meant to me.

I spent my entire undergrad degree at UBC. I was accepted easily, I got into all the courses I wanted to, I met a bunch of cool people and got my degree. My Uncle Roy, on the other hand, was kicked out in 1942 after his first year, and sent to work on a sugar beet farm in Lethbridge with the rest of my grandpa’s family. No UBC degree for him, on account of him being of Japanese descent in World War Two.

He eventually did return to post-secondary education, but not UBC. Seventy years later, my great-uncle did receive a degree from UBC, in an honorary ceremony recognizing the many Japanese-Canadian students the university dismissed during World War Two. Mind you, it is important to note that he received this honorary degree not because of initiative on behalf on the university to right this historical wrong, but because of the persistence of an amazing local woman named Mary Kitagawa.

What is especially remarkable about Kitigawa, is that prior to her campaign to grant the degrees, she had had no connection to UBC; her efforts were those of a conscientious activist from the community-at-large. I personally had no idea that my Uncle Roy had experienced this particular encounter with my alma mater, nor anything about Kitigawa’s lobbying until I was informed by my family that we would be in the same graduating class.

It really is amazing that both Uncle Roy and I could share this experience. Nevertheless, this experience has really had me thinking a lot about access, inclusivity, and institutionalized racism.

A quick view of the special honorary degree ceremony itself was certainly revealing. I attended the whole thing along with much of my family, and it was indeed a beautiful ceremony. I was surprised, therefore, that it wasn’t entirely sold out. From what I could see, the Chan Centre actually had quite a few seats available to an interested public. I also noticed that there weren’t as many people who appeared to be faculty members present as I would have thought. Note, of course, that during the time when the Japanese-Canadian students were banned from attending school at UBC, only a handful of professors spoke out against this injustice. In fact, from what I could see before, during, and after the ceremony, the majority of attendees (aside from the graduates themselves) appeared to be of Asian descent. Interesting.

My graduation ceremony was pretty standard, and thankfully reflected the diversity of students and faculty that UBC is known for. I did remind the Dean of Arts and Chancellor, however, as I crossed the stage and shook their hands that, “education is a right, and to please protect that right.” Though surprised, the Dean of Arts agreed with me heartily, which was a relief, and so did the Chancellor, though she had lost her voice from all the speaking she had had to do during all the ceremonies.

During the actual process of getting my degree (Major in Religion, Literature, and the Arts, and a minor in Political Science), a few things happened that made me think that maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t quite as welcome as I thought I was, being a third-generation, mixed-race Canadian. Read more

Posted on May 2, 2013 by jarrahpenguin in Can-Con, My Reality, Racism Leave a comment

My Reality: I Was the 6th Grade “Slut”

by Emily Lindin

Intro:

I am a woman in my late twenties with a full, satisfying life. I live with my wonderful partner, I love my work, I have supportive friends and colleagues, and I maintain a great relationship with my parents. But about a year ago, during a visit to my childhood home, I discovered my old journals from fifteen years ago and was transported back to a time of intense shame and isolation.

When I was eleven years old, I was branded a “slut” by my classmates. For the next few years of my life, I was harassed incessantly at school, after school, and online. I decided to create The UnSlut Project in the hopes that by publishing my own diary entries, I could provide some perspective to girls who are going through something similar right now.

Since starting The UnSlut Project, I have been contacted by many women who want to share their stories, too. This is a chance for us to prove, through sharing the details of our own experiences, that slut shaming is a strong negative force that has affected the lives of many women. It’s also an opportunity to help girls who are currently suffering from this type of shame, providing them with hope that it will get better.If you have had an experience you’d like to share, or if you can offer some words of advice and encouragement to young women who need them, please contribute by clicking the “Share Your Experience” button.

Here is one of Emily’s diary entries as published on The UnSlut Project.

“Why did you all of a sudden hate me after we went to third base?”

March 12, 1998

Today in gym, Zach was sitting next to Maggie on the bleachers and I was sitting on the other side of her. Maggie was making a paper fortune teller. Zach and I started talking, and it started off as us throwing insults at each other but soon we got to something meaningful. Zach said, “You’re such a bitch!” [Like I said… something meaningful.]I said, “You act as if I did something wrong to you!” He said, “You did! You act all PMS-y towards me, telling me to fuck off.” I screamed, “Well, you used me!” “No, I didn’t!” “Then why did you all of a sudden hate me after we went to third base?”Matt walked by and snickered, “Hump ’em and dump ’em, right, Zach?” [Again, Matt with the perfect comedic timing.]Zach looked at me pleadingly and said, “I never said that.” I glared at him. He said, “Fine, you don’t believe me?” I could tell he was getting mad, so I said softly, “No, I believe you.” He smiled. “Good.” [I’d like to point out that this entire exchange took place over Maggie, who was just trying to make a fortune teller.]After school, he called me. He informed me that we were still going out: “I never officially dumped you.” I sighed, “Well, when you called me a whore you pretty much dumped me, and if you didn’t, then I’d only be in my right mind to dump you.”

He said, “Fine, then dump me.” “No…” “Why not?” “I don’t know how to dump someone.” “Just say, ‘I don’t want to go out with you anymore.’” “But I can’t…” “Okay.” He gave up.Then I confessed to him that I am bulimic (even though I am not) and so he decided to try to make himself throw up. I don’t know if he succeeded. So we’re on good terms now.

[I’m not sure what part of this last bit is the strangest: that I lied about being bulimic, that it could possibly be unclear whether the person on the other end of the phone had thrown up or not; or that this exchange somehow signified to me that we were “on good terms now.”]

Posted on April 29, 2013 by jarrahpenguin in Feminism, My Reality 1 Comment

My Reality: Gender Inequality in the Workplace

by Kristen Bright

After a grueling job search, I finally landed my dream job for a company working in online security. I got to use my love for writing and technology in a way that allowed me to help other people. I was particularly excited for the opportunity to make a difference helping women stay safe.

Given that it was my first job out of college, I didn’t know what to expect as far as work environment goes. I guess I figured that I would instantly be friends with all of my co-workers and that I would work with a lot of other women passionate about the same things as me. While I had heard about gender inequality in the work place, I never thought I would experience it personally, especially in California.

My first day at work I was shown my new office and got started on my training, then I was introduced to the co-workers I would be working with in the marketing department. The company I worked for was a decent size – I would say there were approximately 300 employees at this point and I worked closely with about 50 of them. I quickly noticed something interesting: in my office space I was the only woman employee. I assumed that maybe some of the other women were in a meeting or something, but I later realized there were only six women out of the 50-or-so people I worked with.

The longer I stayed at that job the more I started to realize how much the technology industry is dominated by men. This trend is probably something you’ve heard of, but since this was my first work experience of any kind I had no idea that women were still so outnumbered. Don’t get me wrong, my male co-workers were all great people but I couldn’t help but worry if I was only hired because I was a woman, like maybe they needed to fill a quota.

As I mentioned before, I got to work with a lot of our female customers and try to help them protect themselves. I loved this aspect of my job in particular. Once I got comfortable in my job duties, I began thinking about why we as a society allow men to dominate these types of professions. Shouldn’t it at least be an equal ratio in order to properly understand what our female customer base is looking for? I really loved my job and the company, but I was unsatisfied feeling so outnumbered.

I stayed at this job for three years, and throughout that time I watched my male co-workers get promoted more quickly and get raises more easily than I was able to. At first it was because I was new but then it started to become routine. I realized there was a reason this company was lacking female employees: with the way they ran things there was no chance they could retain any women in these jobs. Read more

Posted on April 18, 2013 by jarrahpenguin in Feminism, My Reality Leave a comment

Things That Make Me So Happy I Could Pee My Pants

by Alicia Costa

The last few weeks at work have been extremely stressful for me. And it’s throwing the rest of my life out of whack because I’m just so grumpy and tired all the time. I’ve been trying all my old tricks to keep myself relaxed (working out, getting a lot of sleep, eating healthy, talking my friends ear off) but nothing seemed to help.

So I’ve been trying to really focus on all the good I do have in my life right now. Inspired by this piece in XO Jane I sat down to write my own list of “things that make me so happy I could pee my pants” or ‘Things that make me do this:

Seeing a little girl downtown wearing the most amazing power clash outfit and giving no fucks (she was wearing polka dot pants, a stripped shirt, had a bumble bee back pack, and had a zebra print umbrella). You go kid.
Waking up and feeling the warm body of the cat curled up against my back.
Emails from my mom, which are, always signed xoxoxoxoxoxoxo Mommy.
Emails from my grandma.
Driving home from work and the sun was shining and the windows were down and “You Can Do It” by Ice Cube comes on the radio and I felt LIKE SUCH A BOSS.
Chubby kids in trendy clothes. Don’t you ever let anyone tell you you are too chubby for skinny jeans.
Cherry blossoms.
Feeling so devastated that Christopher Abbott is leaving the cast of Girls… but then I found this and forgot what my name is for half an hour…
The impeding arrival of my best friends’ twin boys (squeeeeeeee!)
Looking at baby clothes and getting exciting about all the obnoxious matching outfits I’m going to dress above-mentioned twins in.
The return of Game of Thrones.
Making out with a cute guy.
Reuniting with an old friend.
Pajama pants.
Scoring a dress on the clearance rack at Old Navy for .97 and then using a 20% coupon on it (WIN).
Wine for dinner.
Freshly painted nails.
Having a dream that I was in the cast of Girls and we were in a photo shoot for the cover of Vanity Fair (Note: this is my second favourite dream. My favourite was about me being a super famous plus-sized swimsuit model).
My morning flirt with the cute barista at Blenz.
Feeling tingly after a hot bath.
Meeting one of my favourite authors Amber Dawn.
Winning a bunch of amazing books.
The start of roller derby season.
Spending hours making baby-themed crafts.
Always having the appropriate Girls quote on hand for any situation.

I encourage everyone to do this. Even if you are so miserable right now the thought of anything making you happy seems impossible. It was a powerful exercise for me because if I’m really honest with myself there is so much in my life right now that is good. And I bet there is some awesome things in your world too.

Posted on April 17, 2013 by jarrahpenguin in My Reality, Pop Culture 2 Comments

The Girlfriend Experience? Yeah, We Offer That Here

by Alicia Costa

“I think that dating is awful. I just don’t understand people that can go out with someone and be so relaxed about it.” –Natalia, Girls

I’ve been dating for about a year and a half. This was after a substantial hiatus of over five years where I did a lot of work on myself. All the while I silently snickered at the articles I’d read about women in their 20s and 30s online dating and having a terrible go of it. Oh the horror stories! I’d sit there behind my computer screen stroking my cat on my lap and smirk away. I’d think to myself, “That won’t be me! I am a catch! I have my shit together! When I am ready to dabble in online dating I will pick good and sensible men and not get jerked around!” No really. I really thought I’d sign up for a online dating site, meet like three guys, and one of those guys would fall for my adorable good looks and charm and that would be it. Bam. Consider me off the market boys.

Ha.

I’ve met a handful of men (I’m picky and you have to weed through A LOT of crap to find any decent guys. LIKE A LOT) and overall I’ve been pleased. They have been charming, good looking, educated, have jobs, have dreams, don’t live with their parents, and are genuinely nice humans. And they love their mothers and sisters (my mother always told me to judge a man based on how he treats his mother and sisters). But they all seemed to enjoy, what I have dubbed “The Girlfriend Experience”, in that they want to skip over the actually dating part right to the sweatpants and sex.

I am not a fancy gal. I’m not interested in being wined and dined by someone I barely know. All of these men I’ve met for a quick coffee and let it progress from there. Which usually brought us to my apartment. And I’ve had a really nice time entertaining a few of these gentlemen.

The evenings usually consisted of sharing a bottle of wine on the couch, some good conversation, and heavy petting. And while I am not one to shy away from casual sex it really isn’t what I am looking for at this point in my life. I need something more. Don’t get me wrong: I love comfy pants, wine, and sex. But didn’t we skip a part? Like the part where we get kicked out a poetry reading for making out and groping each other? Or having sushi and going for a walk along the ocean? Or exchanging dirty texts at 3 a.m. on Saturday night?

And after this happened to me a few times with a few different guys I named this behavior “The Girlfriend Experience.” After a while you start to feel like the girlfriend they have been with for a couple of years who they come home to, unload their day on, drink beer with, and give a quick bang to. Then you don’t hear from them for a week or more until they are lonely and want something comfortable to slip back into.

A good friend of mine calls this the “Comfy Sweat Pant” (where a guy treats you like a old pair of sweatpants they can throw on and veg out in). So how did we skip all the fun and get right to the part where you text me daily updates about your car repair and hectic work schedule after we’ve hung out twice? Or tell me you have “mild managed depression” yet have a bathroom full of anti-psychotics and only call me when you need someone to listen to your disturbed ramblings?

Now I am not trying to make this sound unpleasant. Like I said I’ve had nice experience with a few guys where the wine/couch/conversation/hot making out was a very enjoyable experience. However, this would lead any lady to the place where she also feels comfortable to expose herself to him by telling him how she constantly gets herself stuck in/between things because she often misjudges just how much room her voluptuousness actually requires.

Now if a lady is telling you one of the their secret shames then she is comfortable with you. Comfortable enough to text you something like, “Hey man I think you’re rad, I like spending time with you, and let’s get naked again soon.”

To which I believe the guy reacts like this:

Whoa now, crazy lady. What did you think was going on here?
Read more

Posted on April 7, 2013 by jarrahpenguin in Feminism, My Reality 2 Comments

My Reality: Being the “Other Woman”

by Phoebe Vaccaro

I had sex with a married man and I don’t feel at all badly about it. Now before you get all judge-y, as I’m sure you’ll be wont to do, let me explain myself a little.

There was a time when sleeping with someone who was attached – married, in a relationship, whatever it was – was entirely outside of my realm of comfort. It was an absolute no-go for me, especially after what I went through with my last relationship (quick recap: my ex had been cheating on me, in my house, in my bed with his boss for months, before finally telling me – and only finally doing that, via frigging Facebook, nonetheless, because he’d knocked her up). So I was hypersensitive to such circumstances for a while.

But then, somewhere along the way, I somehow became less dogmatic about my reticence to sleep with attached men…and then suddenly, I found myself in bed with a married man and not feeling at all badly about it. How’d I get to this point?

Firstly, the marital troubles of two people aren’t on me. Sure, I’m probably not helping by getting involved, even if only peripherally, but to be honest I don’t really feel like I ought to have to check every man for a marriage license before jumping into bed with him.

This man was incredibly sexy. I met him at a bar, we got to talking, and we left the bar together. It wasn’t until we were on our way to his friend’s house that it came out that he was married. I was looking forward to the casual rendezvous, but when I discovered he was married I started to have second thoughts. After a short conflict within myself, I decided I was going to do it anyway. I didn’t know how often this man sleeps around on his wife. I didn’t know anything about their relationship. What I did know is that I am not the cause for whatever had him out seeking sexual relations with other women. Read more

Posted on March 14, 2013 by jarrahpenguin in My Reality 13 Comments

1 2 Next »