Planet Fitness Ordeal

"OH MY GOD! There is a 'man'...or someone who appears to my close-minded ignorant brain to be a man...in my WOMAN'S locker room!!!!"

What, in all honesty, are you so afraid of? What makes you so uncomfortable?
Perhaps my complete and utter anger at the woman who was banned from Planet Fitness for complaining about a transgender individual in the woman's locker room is preventing me from fully understanding what the issue is.
Maybe I'm really the closed-minded individual who can't comprehend why a woman would be offended by a transgender person in the locker room.
C'mon ladies. Have you ever looked at another naked woman in the locker room as a sexual being? Not to say that you were necessarily sexually attracted to her, but just look at her naked body in a sexual way...
Let's try this a different way - have you ever been on the treadmill, or been lifting weights, or been stretching at the gym, and looked at a man sexually? Just even thought to yourself, "Ooh, he has nice shoulders, or glutes, or a nice back." I'll tone it down even a bit more for you idiots - have you ever thought "oh he has a nice smile and I'm attracted to that,"?
Okay - good. Now we have a baseline.
Why are you so damn afraid of someone, anyone, being sexually attracted to you?
Guess what? I'm a female, who identifies as such, with all female anatomical parts. SURPRISE!! I've checked you out, SEXUALLY, more times that that transgender individual checked you out, or even glanced at you, in the woman's locker room.
Maybe you think I'm a threat. Maybe I should also be banned from the woman's locker room, since I am sexually attracted to females, some of the time, depending on my mood.
Let's just have separate locker rooms for every different sexual orientation. Because that makes a whole lotta moral and financial sense for Planet Fitness....
Look, I don't care how you look, or how you carry yourself - if you are naked in a locker room, the chances are that someone will check you out in a sexual way. If that bothers you, feel free to change in the bathroom or in the shower stall. Don't cause a scene. Just go back under your rock, where no one can admire your beauty.

You Will Hurt Others, And It Will Suck

I should start out by saying that I am writing this during a period of immense guilt. In my present state, I am feeling extremely heart broken for the people that I have hurt in my life, specifically ex-lovers. I hope that this post will still have some meaning to me even after I get over this guilt I'm feeling. I hope that even in my moments of deep sorrow I am still able to find some wisdom in what I am experiencing. 

I am the worst breaker-upper on the face of this planet. I have already made a promise to myself that when my one-day son or daughter asks me the best way to break up with their boyfriend or girlfriend, I will defer them to their father, or whoever is the trustworthy equivalent at the time. My biggest problem is that I only half break up with people. I say, we're done...but only for now...who knows the future...I still love you...etc. It's a fucking nightmare. 

But it's all very true. I don't say things that I don't mean. Ever. Words are extremely important to me. If you ask me if I still love you, I have a very very hard time of lying to you for your sake, so that you can move on. I value the truth, even if it is fucked up and confusing and causes more pain. 

So the dilemma becomes - should I tell the truth to people knowing it will hurt them worse, or should I hold back a little bit to avoid more anger and pain?

You will hurt people. It will suck. It will suck hard. In fact, it will hurt more than being hurt. And there is really no excuse, and no rationalization. If you feel guilty for hurting someone, you will nit pick every conversation, every text, every look you gave them, and wonder what you could have done differently to avoid the pain. You will think maybe you should have just cut that person out of your life entirely - hell, they probably would have been better off without you. Then you will think you should have never been so selfish and should have just done whatever was going to make or keep the other person happy. 

And those are all very wonderful psychological ideas you are having. You are weighing selfishness against selflessness; truth against ignorant bliss; experience against pain. And you are certainly not the first person to ponder, be confused, debate, and question how these opposing ideas can harmonize in one lifetime. 

"So great, at least I'm not the only pathetic evil-doing fuck on the planet. But that still doesn't take away the other person's pain. How do I LIVE knowing I've hurt someone so badly?!"

Well, I really don't know. But what I do know is that it's best to assume you were a very small part of someone else's life. Chances are, you play only a teeny tiny role in the story of the other person's life. Even if you know you were an influential person, for better or worse, if you've hurt them that badly, there is probably someone else out there that was just as important and DIDN'T hurt them so bad. And unless you have a severe complex that makes you feel you NEED to be the most important person in everyone's life, this minimalistic attitude should help you a bit. 

So, in summary, yes, you will hurt people. BADLY. You will make someone, maybe multiple people, feel the worst they've ever felt in your life (so they will claim.) But that's okay, because you are probably only a tiny spec on their radar. In the moment, anger will tell them that you've ruined their life. But in a few months or a few years, perspective will tell them that you are miniscule. And being minuscule is better than being a menace. 

You Never Know When a "Privet!" Will Pay Off

Perhaps you've heard this joke:

What do you call someone who speaks only one language?

American. 

It seems to be true - many Americans speak only English. If they do speak another language, they speak it poorly, and ought to credit any language knowledge to school requirements. 

I am guilty of upholding this stereotype. I speak severely broken Spanish, I can say barely more than "hello" in German and French, I know a few sentences of Russian, and, of course, I know a few Dutch curse words. (They sound so damn cool!)

If you want to take a truly critical eye, it's fair to say that we ought to be slightly ashamed of our geocentrism. We EXPECT that people will know our language when we travel abroad, and we EXPECT that those who move to or travel to the states will know English. It's an unfair double standard, and we ought to do more to keep up with the languages we study in school. 

All of that aside, there is something to be said for knowing a little bit of various languages. I may not be fluent, but simply knowing how to say "hello", "goodbye", and "my name is..." can go a long way in connecting with someone. 

Just today, I made a cold call to a woman from Russia. Her last name looked Russian, and her accent sounded Russian, but I figured it was safest to not assume.

So I asked. 

"Your accent is beautiful! Can I ask where you're from?"

"Well I'm originally from Russia..."

"Oh! привет! меня зовут Alicia!" 

And boom. The lady on the phone instantly felt more comfortable. No way in hell could I sell her entire insurance policy by speaking only Russian, and for that I am regretful. But the bottom line is, I took advantage of the little scratches I do know, and used them to make my customer feel comfortable and excited. 

Americans should learn a second language, fluently. I should learn to take my own advice. But in the meantime, we can still get by without making total fools of ourselves if we grow the balls to ask people if they speak X language, and do our best to show we're trying. 

Why We Stop Writing.

This is by no means a justification or rationalization for my lack of writing over the past twelve months.

This is by all means an honest apology, and a sincere promise to not let it happen again.

Why do we stop writing?

We stop writing because we've been told our writing is no good.

We stop writing because we've been told it's silly to express ourselves.

We stop writing because "life" takes priority.

We stop writing because we forget that words are our legacy.

We stop writing because we feel guilty for something we've said.

We stop writing when we think it's a waste of time.

We stop writing when we realize we don't make any money for it.

We stop writing when we feel like no one is reading.

We stop writing when we stop reading.

We stop writing when we have a house to clean.

We stop writing when we're forced to write so damn much for school or work.

We stop writing when we're depressed.

We stop writing when we get over our depression.

We stop writing when we forget how good it feels to let it all out.

We stop writing when we know people are reading and it intimidates us.

We stop writing when we think no one will remember us anyways.

We stop writing when the stuff that comes out scares us.

We stop writing because we feel like it's getting us no where.

We stop writing because the one person we want to read our words isn't doing so.

We stop writing...

We write because we think. 

The Pendulum Analogy

I hope you enjoy this bit of an exchange I had with a dear friend from a year and a half ago. It's my response to a message that was sent to me, and though I'd love to post the whole conversation, I feel uncomfortable posting someone else's message without their permission. I think it might still be interesting, regardless of its missing half. To give a bit of context, consider this message an argument in favor of taking a risk with a new person. Consider it an honest account of the degree to which falling in love can change one's plans, and consider it a challenge to change oneself when faced with an unexpected opportunity without knowing whether the outcome will be for better or for worse. 


I have not edited this message at all. It appears to you exactly as it was written a year and a half ago. 


The pendulum of life moves at a constant, steady pace. You go in with a plan. You have the answers to the questions who?, what?, where?, why?, and you’re confident, and you’re prepared. You have a vision of where the situation is going, of how you’re going to get to point B, and how long the trip is going to take. You’re in complete control of your pendulum and life is good.
Suddenly, the pendulum stops swinging smoothly. Despite all of your planning and preparation, there you are, suddenly, unannounced, at point C - somewhere you never imagined that pendulum could take you. How can a pendulum that swings from points A to B get me here? You’re frantic, without a plan, scared even because you have no clue how you got here. Some place, some thing, or some one has made it so that you are completely out of your element. What do you do?
You enjoy the change of scenery. You embrace the unknown. After all, whatever thing or place or person was strong enough to defy the pendulum that you’ve had going, must be worth investigating. You go along without a plan, for longer than you’ve ever been without a plan before. It’s stressful, different, but you like point C. Maybe you don’t quite know why, but you like it... a lot. So much that you’re going to make a new plan, build a new pendulum. One that starts at point C, and travels slowly and steadily to point D. You ask once again, who?, what?, where?, why?. Maybe the place or thing or person that brought you to point C can help you find those answers.
Or, You jump of, and You slowly make your way back to pendulum AB, where all is safe and planned out and you’re in control. Things are once again at your speed, and you can be rest assured you’re making a good decision for yourself. You’ve been to point C, and you’ve experienced something new, so now you can go back to point A and B. You’re not really missing out, then, right?
What you miss out on is not point A, B, or C... it’s point D. It’s the point you never planned for. The other side of the pendulum. Maybe it’s scarier than C, or maybe it’s awesome.
Life is not a single pendulum, it’s multiple pendulums. 

College: License to Immaturity

It's been a theme of my college career: young adults "progressing" through their young adult lives, and yet seemingly digressing in wisdom and maturity. I remember what kids were like in my high school - they worked hard in most of their classes, had big ideas for their future, slaved hours over college applications, and felt a sense of pride and accomplishment upon graduating. They thought they were growing up, moving on, earning respect and responsibility, and becoming mature, responsible adults. "Mom, Dad, you can leave my dorm now - I'm going to be fine...Yes I know how to do my laundry...Don't worry I'll eat my vegetables...Shut up already I'm an adult now!"
So now, I ask you, I ask myself, What the hell happened?!
So Mom and Pop left your dorm, and you proceeded to go out the first weekend of classes to get smashed. I mean, I did it. I went to my first college party the night after I moved in to college. I got fairly drunk, danced all night, and sweat more than is fathomable. 
So what? College kids are supposed to have fun, because they will never again get the same kind of opportunity. 
True. But there is a difference between fun and stupidity. It seems like when kids get their college ID, they mistake it for a license to act sixteen again - to forget everything they know about meaningful relationships, to ignore morals and ethics regarding sex, to drop all previous friendships, and to know no boundaries regarding drug and alcohol use.
I'd like to say here that perhaps I am talking about the minority of college kids. Even so, I think the issue needs to be addressed. 
I also don't mean to preach or to be a hypocrite. I have certainly made my fair of dumb mistakes over the past few years, and I'm fortunate enough to have supportive friends and family who can tell me when I'm being an idiot. 
What I really want to say is - time does not stop while you are in college. These are 3, 4, 5 years of your life or more that REALLY MATTER. So please, try your best to not act like a child. Try instead to mature and develop, to think about morals and relationships and responsibility. And for goodness sake, grow up instead of growing down. I can't tell you how many people I know have de-matured since high school. It's fucking sad. 
And now, for a bit of a "plug" if you will - take some Philosophy classes. They make you think hard about life (if you get the right professors), and I've found them to be a great grounding force in my college career. 

Staying Grounded

I love driving back to Manchester, NH where my parents live from where I currently live in Newmarket, NH for the day. It's not a long drive, gives me some time to relax, and more importantly, it helps me stay grounded.
You see, the world is not composed of only educated people. According to this article less that 30% of Americans actually have a degree. And yet, it's easy to assume otherwise when you live in a college town. Manchester, which is a bigger city: (pop. 110,000) is a much better representation of the true proportion of educated to non-educated Americans.


"Well, wouldn't you prefer to be in a town with a higher percentage of educated individuals?" you may ask. And the answer is "No."  I like being grounded. I like walking around the mall and seeing very young parents, very old parents, people of minorities, and fat people and skinny people and rich people and poor people and sick people and healthy people and young and old people. It's fucking refreshing.


I'm a philosophy major. And before I criticize myself and my peers, let me tell you that I wouldn't have it any other way. I absolutely love what I study, and I think if everyone studied philosophy the world would be an infinitely better place. But, that being said, it's really easy to get caught up in the clouds, thinking about the meaning of things and wondering how to achieve "the good life". But the fact of reality is: shit happens, sub-optimal lives are lived, and people go on without ever opening a single philosophical text. And you know what? They're fucking happy. Well, happy as in, relatively happy in comparison to the rest of the world. I mean, if you want to talk about whether or not anyone is actually happy, we can do that in a different post.


But seriously - some people are not educated. Some people make only 30K a year and survive and are "flourishing". I'm sorry, Aristotle, but you really don't have to be enlightened to be flourishing.


I guess my point is: I've been raised by an interesting combination of a Harvard-educated, psychiatrist father and a first-kid-at-age-20, not-educated nurse. And it's honestly the best fucking mixture I could possibly ask for. I understand the benefits of books, and also the shortcomings.


It is NOT okay to assume people without a degree are less flourishing. And it is NOT okay to live in a stuck-up, judgmental "college-town mindset".  You have to hang out with all types of people. Have some poor friends, some rich friends, some fat, skinny, old, young, parents, non-parents, single, married, green, alien, whatever-the-fuck friends. Learn how different people are, and learn to accept that their happiness, along with their sorrows, troubles, accomplishments, goals, are equal to, and maybe even greater than, yours. People are people.


As a little P.S. - I am not saying you should necessarily marry someone who has a drastically different history than you. It may be difficult to relate to someone in terms of a long-term relationship who has a completely different world-view than you. But to have friends who are different is completely okay and definitely beneficial.