When Churches Abuse

I've been reading survivor stories from people who were abused by Mars Hill Church (pastored by Mark Driscoll--possibly my favorite person ever).

It's brutal stuff.

One of the more OT (Old Testament) methods Mars Hill used was "shunning," which is exactly what it sounds like. A person or an entire family would be formally ostracized from the church with all their remaining friends (or, if you like, brothers and sisters in Christ) instructed to go no contact--all in the name of biblical discipline and restoration.

I read one account by Jonna Petry, whose husband was abruptly fired from leadership in 2007. She describes how the church turned on her and her family, and the devastating spiritual, emotional and relational consequences.

It might not be physical, but it's still violence, and all in the name of God. Petry writes:

Spiritual abuse occurs when someone uses their power within a framework of spiritual belief or practice to satisfy their own needs at the expense of others. It is a breach of sacred trust. Christians are commanded by Jesus to love one another. When that is projected, articulated, enjoyed and then treacherously betrayed, the wounded person is left with “a sense of having been raped, emotionally and spiritually” – not by a stranger, but by someone who was deeply trusted. (See Recovering from Church Abuse by Len Hjalmarson)

One of the biggest selling points of today's evangelical Christian church is "family"--belonging and love and connection and acceptance, as in "You belong here."

I've talked to friends about the almost mythical nature of "community" in Christian churches. There's this idea that real community can only happen in the context of church-that a church is the only place that you as a Christian will ever belong.

Your sewing group? Heathens. Your coworkers? They want your promotion. Your college friends? They've moved on. Your biological family? They may or may not be there for you when you need them.

When these expectations for community aren't met--or when you never really feel like you belong in the first place--the emotional pain can be devastating. After all, churches often hold this out as an enticement: One church I attended had as part of its mission statement, "To give every orphan a family."

Furthermore, when Christian community is the only genuine community, it can take over your entire life. Often, members are encouraged to become more and more invested in their church, particularly by serving or by taking on a leadership role. The underlying assumption is that this is both a means to and a sign of spiritual growth.

Church Bubble

The people you worship with Sunday are the people you community group with Tuesday are the same people you party with Friday. If you are single, often you expect to date and marry within your church. Don't get me started on how depressing that can be.

Christians are encouraged to make non-Christian friends, but only from the standpoint of evangelism--convincing them to join the family (wow, that sounds creepy).

When you spend all your time with the same people, you tend to get attached.

Petry reflects on her own culpability in the abuse, in a narrative that I've heard many times from other Christians, and from myself:

I have come to understand that I was wrong in the way I entrusted my heart to people, looking to them for approval and affirmation, finding my identity in my relationships and in my ministry instead of completely and solely entrusting my heart to the Living God and finding my identity and security in Jesus Christ alone, who loves me and died for me and calls me His own. For we are all capable of great sin. And, no doubt, the wrong way I entrusted my heart to others coincided with the depth of my pain at their betrayal and rejection.

In sum, "I didn't love or trust God enough. If I had, I would have avoided some of this pain." I disagree. To me, it seems perfectly human to entrust your heart to other people--especially people that you have laughed with, cried with, served with, suffered with all in the name of Christian community. Emotional and relational attachment is less a conscious choice than a gradual, organic process that happens when people spend a lot of time together.

Hyper-vigilance about loving God more than I love my friend, my  boyfriend, my spouse, my children, does not solve the problem of human attachment or somehow make betrayal hurt less.

We were meant to love and trust other people. It's one of those things that makes us so incredibly vulnerable.

How many times have I emerged from a relationship feeling broken and empty, only to conclude that my mistake (or sin, as Petry characterizes it) was growing attached to a person instead of to God.

I can't tell myself this story anymore. It doesn't hold up.

I will say that based on Petry's story, I would advocate for diversifying your social portfolio--don't invest all of yourself in any one social group, whether it's a church or a motorcycle gang. Diversify. Make friends with people who don't share your religious or political or sports affiliation.

If you are embedded in a single group, when and if abuse does happen, it can be even more overwhelmingly devastating. Not all churches are abusive, but any church can let you down.

What's striking about Petry's account is how doggedly her family sought healing and reconciliation with the church that destroyed them. Some of it was just shock and disbelief--that those who had "loved" so much could now be so cruel. It reminds me of a woman who returns again and again to an abusive relationship before finally leaving for good.

You never know who will be there for you when everything falls apart--it could be someone you only have a tangential connection with, a friend of friend, an atheist, a Republican, a Lakers fan, a devout Christian, someone who watches Bachelor in Paradise for fun. We just can't predict these things.

Inspiration:
Jonna Petry's account
My friend labullets for calling my ideas "blog-worthy"

More about church:
Why is church cliquey?
Why is church cliquey? Part 2
Why is church cliquey? Part 3
Why is church cliquey? Part 4

Why is Church Cliquey? Part 4

I broke up with my church.

In fact, I haven't really been going to church at all, lately.

No, it wasn't because of anything I wrote in "Why is Church Cliquey?" Parts 1-3.

And I know, breaking up with your church or your religious faith in general is the trendy, millenial thing to do (my soul, my choice). And yes, I keep telling people that it's because I'm too lazy to go church shopping: I want to roll out of bed, put on yoga pants and a hoodie or shorts and a tank top, drive to the same part of town, arrive the same 15 minutes late, drink the same coffee, see the same people, sing the same worship songs that I've sung for roughly three and a half years. 

But you know what, that's not the truth. Or at the least the whole truth.

The truth is, I'm emotionally devastated. And with all the emotional motility of a snail who has just consumed an entire cheeseburger, it's taken me more than a few months to even get to this point. 

As this blog will attest, I've always been ambivalent about Church in general and my church in particular. I've always felt like an outsider and like I don't belong, etc. etc. But at the root of all that ambivalence and outsider posturing, I think there was more to it than that. Hope. Expectation. Longing. Maybe even love.

Hope. 

That this time would be different. That this time I would be loved and accepted as I am now, right here, in this moment. 

Painful, vulnerable, terrifying hope. 

Love.

That's the only way I can explain the grief. 

So if there was more to it than I thought, and if I cared more and felt more and hoped more than I ever admitted to myself--what's the point now that it's over?

There's that familiar narrative we tell each other after a breakup: Time to move on. You can do better. There are plenty of denominations in this diocese, or something like that.

And I feel a bit silly. Like I'm all torn up over a breakup where the guy was never really that into me in the first place.

This is what hurts the most: 

When I felt threatened by an abusive ex-boyfriend who also happened to be in leadership at my church, I wanted someone to stand up for me. Scratch that. I wanted someone to give a ****. Like, just a little bit. Just a little tiny bit. 

And when that didn't happen, or didn't seem to happen--

I feel let down. I feel horribly abandoned. 

...emotional motility of a snail eating a cheeseburger.

So I broke up with my church.



Why is Church Cliquey? Part 5

Undateable: Why Single Christian Guys Are All Dented Cans - The Coward

Aristotle on bravery in "Nicomachean Ethics," from a translation by Terence Irwin

Welcome to my series on dented cans AKA single Christian guys who are undateable (to me!). 

After tackling the fluffy, soft as a guinea pig's butt cheeks topic of misogyny, we are now moving onto a much less potentially inflammatory topic: cowardice. 

[I swear, I am literally drawing these topics out of a jar. Swear to Blog.]

Now, you may see "coward" and "cowardice" and think, "I know where she's going with this!" And I bet you two pounds of canned beets that you're wrong (I hate beets. Hate 'em). 

You see, I too am familiar with the diatribes, written and otherwise, urging Christian dudes to just step up to the complementarian gender roles plate and ask a girl out already. I mean c'mon! How hard can it be? Think of all those lovely, eligible, extremely single Christian girls who are not too busy writing wistful letters to their future husbands to say "Yes" to dinner and a PG movie with you (and who if you play your cards right, might even agree to marry you after the third date!).  

This is not that blog. If you want to read (or hear) about how Christian men should stop being such [women?] already and just ask a girl out, you can go here, here, or here. And good dating to you, sir or madam.

The truth is, I'm as ambivalent about this topic as a single Christian woman could possibly be. I feel like the "Be a man and ask her out" and "Be a woman and wait for him to make the first move" setup smells awfully like the traditional gender roles that have traditionally kept women in a one-down position of power in adult relationships (such as those between a boyfriend and girlfriend or husband and wife). 

Just speaking personally, if my church wants to reinforce these gender roles--you know, the ones where men get the final say on all decisions, men lead and women follow, men love and women submit, etc.--then I also want a "real man" who will carry me 20 miles in 5 feet of snow so that I don't get my dainty feet wet, who will bring home the bison while I sit at home sipping tea and refining my embroidery skills, and who has the physique of Chris Hemsworth and goes shirtless at all times. Just saying. 

So, no. This is not a blog about how Christian guys are cowards for not asking girls out. I really can't speak for any one guy's motivation for not asking any one girl out. The closest I can get is that he doesn't want to. The whys beyond that are beyond me and my personal scope of knowledge. However, if someone wanted to write a blog about this, I would support him or her at least 101%. 

And now to get back to my subject: Cowardice. Merriam Webster unhelpfully defines cowardice as "the absence of courage." I have a different definition, which I will expound here, at length (you lucky readers, you).

I define cowardice as deliberately hurting, humiliating, abusing, harming, putting down, or bullying someone from a position of power, privilege, or advantage (usually because you can and because it makes you feel good, (read, more powerful)). 

A story: 

I was working in a small business packing and shipping books for a living. I had long thought that the office manager had a crush on me (it wasn't reciprocal). 

So one day we were particularly busy, everyone was present, and I was packing and shipping the heck out of some books. The OM became irate and started yelling at me for overpacking the boxes. 

He took out some of the books that I had already packed and threw them (well, maybe he placed them) on my desk. 

He yelled at me in front of everyone: in front of my boss (his boss too) and in front of my coworkers. 

I was so angry. I confronted him the next day and told him I was not okay with what he did. He admitted to "being a huge jerk" and said he had actually been angry at another coworker who was not me.

This incident has always stuck with me for some reason. I think it's because when I thought back to the power dynamics of the situation, there was no one else in the room who would have been safe to yell at. He couldn't yell at our boss. He couldn't yell at my married female coworker or either of my male coworkers. 

I was it. 

The only way I can explain it is that liking me gave him some kind of carte blanche to vent his anger on me--

Or perhaps I was just the least powerful person in that room. 

I wish I could say that this was an isolated incident. That I've never before or since had a male boss/coworker/supervisor with romantic interest in me treat me with disrespect and anger because I rejected him. That I've never again had a man humiliate me, abuse me, condescend to me, or shame me under the guise of "just doing his job." 

I wish I could say I have never felt trapped in a job in which a man repeatedly violated my boundaries and made me feel profoundly unsafe. 

You see--here's what I don't get about abuse in our current culture: 

All the shame accrues to the victim: "Why didn't she leave him when he hit her?", "Why didn't you walk away?", "What were you thinking dating him in the first place?"

Why are we neglecting to call out the abusers and the bullies for the cowards that they are? I see nothing as more cowardly than punching out a woman who is half your size or using your position of power as a white, male, conservative blogger to further shame rape victims into silence (I'm looking at you, Matt Walsh). 

I fail to understand why Ray Rice dares to show his face in public while Janay Rice fields questions about why she stayed.

Somehow the definition of "being a man" still includes dominating women and treating them as objects to be controlled. Slap her around and you're a "man," not a coward.

After the incident above, I left that job soon after. I was afraid. I didn't want to become OM's emotional punching bag merely because he had a romantic interest in me. I felt like the most likely target, and I had no way to predict that there would be no future incidents--what if he had a really bad day? What if the mice ate all the books or I packed books into boxes in a way that just didn't suit him or the sound of me hitting the "s" key repeatedly started jangling his nerves? These things are impossible to predict. 

This is what I'm having trouble wrapping my head around. That abusers abuse because they can, because they want to, and because it makes them feel good.

He yelled at me because he could.

[Little to no risk to himself: If he yelled at the boss, he would risk getting fired. If he yelled at a male coworker, he might risk getting punched.]

He yelled at me because he wanted to.

[Anger feels bad.]

He yelled at me because it made him feel better.

[Letting anger out feels good.]

In the nearer past, a man viciously attacked and shamed me at work. I'm still traumatized by what happened. 

But here's the thing: 

He used what power he had to punish me, to put me down, to degrade me and "put me in my place" and it made him feel good. If not that, I'm sure it made him feel better--more empowered, more in control.

I also knew, based on past experience (I'd been to this rodeo before), that this was part of a pattern of abuse: His actions signaled to me that this could and probably would happen again: anytime he felt disempowered, received a nasty letter from the IRS, or felt angry about something else going on in his life--

It wouldn't matter. How I did my job wouldn't matter. What I said or did wouldn't matter. If he wanted to take out his anger out on me, he would find a reason.

Imagine that being your everyday, working reality: stretches of rainbows! and sunshine! punctuated only by abuse for no other reason than he "felt like it."

A coward will not confront his boss about injustice or mistreatment, but he will take it out on someone weaker than he is. In fact, he feels justified in doing so and often feels like a victim himself.

That's the problem with cowards. They are too smart to attack someone who has more power than they do, because they know they will suffer the consequences. They don't even much care for engaging an equal. But someone who is "weaker"? Perfect. 

For whatever reason, cowardly men also seem to feel perfectly justified taking out their anger on women who have romantically rejected them. Often, they take on the mantle of "victim" (of society, women, the government, their boss) to justify their behavior and deny their own power and culpability:

"I wouldn't be such an asshole if a woman hadn't broken my heart."
"I was a nice guy until I got rejected for the 20th time."

So, that leads to the question, how do you deal with a coward? 

Directly. To his face. Tell him in no uncertain terms that his behavior is unacceptable.

There's a great book called Verbal Judo about conflict and communication. In it, he talks about three kinds of people: nice people, difficult people, and wimps. You can guess who the cowards are. He recommends calling wimps out in public or confronting them in private (not recommended unless you are in a position of authority). 

Faced with real power, a coward will back down 100% of the time. It's that cliche you see in movies: the underdog can't take it anymore and fights back, leaving the bully a blubbering mess. 

There's some truth to that.  

This is not about playing nice, conflict resolution between equals, or fighting fair. Cowards never fight fair, so watch your back and enlist the help of an older brother or sister if necessary. Here are some possible responses:

"I will not tolerate being spoken to like that."

"Stop it."

"Back off."

Make yourself look as big and threatening as possible. Pretend you're at Yosemite and he is a brown bear. Show that you will not be intimidated and he will scuttle away with his tail between his legs.

Remember, he is not looking for an equal fight. He only abuses those he perceives to be weaker or more vulnerable than he is and will probably be shocked if you actually fight back.

Or you could just punch him in the face (I take no legal responsibility if you decide to take this route but I'll probably be cheering for you from the sidelines).

I jest. But in all seriousness, watch out for the coward. I had a lot of difficulty processing what happened to me until I started looking at it from the lens of power. To you, it might be a conflict between equals, but to him, it's all about making you feel small by any means available (shame, condescension, repeating negative things other people have said about you, attacking your character and personality, blaming you for everything, etc.). You become an object of uncontrolled hatred and rage.

The crux of what makes Christian guys undateable is that their actions often indicate that they don't view women as human beings worthy of equal respect.

Cowards don't respond to rejection very well (how would you feel if some inferior object rejected you?). And neither do some Christian guys. More on that later.

The glass jar has yet to speak on what I'll be writing about next. Till then.

Next: The Myth of Persistence

F*** A Nerd: A Solution to the "Sexodus" Crisis

Ladies, there is a crisis in the land: Cowed and oppressed by the forces of radical feminism, heterosexual men everywhere are checking out of the dating scene and checking into video games and online porn. You might have heard about this crisis, this "Sexodus." It is a terrible, terrible scourge of biblical proportions (the 11th plague) afflicting women everywhere.

But luckily I have come up with a solution:

F*** a nerd.

Find the most pathetic specimen of masculinity possible. The more he loathes himself, the better. The longer he hasn't showered, the more he needs the redemption that only your body can provide. He lives in his mom's basement and watches online porn for 12 hours a day? Perfect.

Throw away those unrealistic and cruel expectations for men manufactured by feminism and romantic comedies. You say you want a man who will treat you with respect, and yet you read "50 Shades of Grey." Twice. Clearly, you don't know what you want.

Plus, you think you're so hot. Well, let me tell you, your expectations are way, way too high. Are you Jennifer Lawrence, Taylor Swift, or Beyonce? No? Then you are fugly at best. However, your female privilege has convinced you that you are all that, two Coach purses, and 54 pairs of shoes. You think you can get a "hot guy" with a job to commit to you. Good luck with that. 

Remember: You can always be replaced with porn and video games. Porn doesn't file false harassment charges. Porn doesn't nag at you to empty the dishwasher or get a job. Porn doesn't say "No" when it means "Yes." Porn doesn't only have sex with assholes. Porn doesn't smile at you one day and put you in the "friend zone" the next. Porn doesn't fight back. Chew on that.

Ladies, if you have sex with a nerd, he might just start to overcome the years of rejection and oppression he has experienced at the hands of our female-dominated society. Sure, he knows he really deserves a supermodel and the six figure job you got just because you are female, but the consolation prize of your subpar body will have to do for now.

Really, it's for the good of humanity, the continuation of the species, and a peaceful resolution to the war on men that's being raged in America.

If we are to end this crisis, drastic measures must be taken. So here's my advice:

Stop trying to get ahead at work. Turn down that promotion. You don't need that promotion. A man needs that promotion.

Stop being good at school [a female-created institution designed to make men feel incompetent and insecure].

Stop volunteering to lead at church. You don't need that leadership position. A man needs that leadership position. If a man stops coming to church, it's your fault for taking the leadership role that was rightfully his.

Stop having expectations for the men you sleep with. It's enough that he condescended to sleep with you in the first place, when he could have been playing Minecraft.

Stop complaining about sexual assault, sexual harassment, and sexism. Men are tired of hearing about it. You are only perpetuating the feminist myth that all men are rapists and pigs. Men will assume that asking you on a date will get them charged with assault.

Stop sending mixed messages. Either you want a real man who forcibly takes what he wants or you want a passive nice guy who treats you as an equal but never makes a move. You can't have both.

Women: the choice is simple. If you don't "lean back" and spread your legs, unemployed men drowning in self-pity who have given up on any semblance of personal hygiene are going to refuse to have sex with you.

Do you want to die single and alone? I didn't think so. Get out there, and start f***** as many undesirable and unattractive men as you possibly can. If you're lucky, one of them might even agree to marry you.

But don't count on it.


Inspirations:
Lysistrata by Eurpides
Matt Walsh
Article about the "Sexodus"

Why is Church Cliquey? Part 3

A couple months ago I was praying and the story of Zacchaeus came to mind. So I found the story of Zacchaeus in Luke and read it. If you haven't read it, it's extremely short. It didn't particularly resonate with me, but I was like, cool, whatever. There's a short dude who is also a hated tax collector. He climbs a tree to see Jesus. Jesus singles him out and invites himself over. They party. Zacchaeus repents of his scummy tax-collecting ways.

The next day (or soon after), I went to church. It was a Sunday morning service and I found myself weaving in and out of the people in attendance. It was bright and sunny (this is Southern California). There were couples and families and children and babies and people I knew and people I didn't.

And I did something I don't think I've ever done before.

I took a backseat in my brain and just observed what was going on in there (do NOT try this at home, kids).

It wasn't pretty.

It was dark. Judgmental. Shallow. Vile. Ugly. The worst kind of petty envy and jealousy.

And in that moment I realized: I am Zacchaeus. I am the short, ugly (?), hated tax collector and I feel so much self-loathing that I put other people down internally in order to elevate myself.

But rather than feeling only shame I felt something else--I guess you could call it pity or even compassion:

I feel more uncomfortable and unsafe and not-at-home at church than I do almost anywhere else.

That's such a strange sentence to write. And I could, if I cared to, explore the history behind that sentence--the different experiences that have led me to both love and hate church.

But right now I'm more interested in this dynamic of feeling comfortable in the discomfort, at-home in the not-at-home, safety in exclusion.

That being loved--actually loved without condition--is excruciating for me.

That being at home--not a stranger, or a guest, or a foreigner--is unthinkably painful and more than I can bear.

My church recently did one of those research surveys, conducted by an external organization that does these kinds of things, to explore our strengths and weaknesses.

The survey found that there was a significant statistical "disappointment gap" between the sense of belonging desired by the people attending and the sense of belonging experienced. I did not fill out this survey. But I can relate. 

I long for acceptance and belonging--the unconditional kind of belonging that I think most people long for. However, I attend a church where this longing goes unmet and denied. 

Just to be clear, I am not blaming the church that I attend for unconsciously or consciously (doubtful) failing to accept me or meet my needs. I'm saying I feel more comfortable living in a space of ambivalence, and so I choose to attend a church where this ambivalence grows and thrives. 

If I'm really, truly honest, I would say I feel more comfortable living in a place of rejection than of love. 

That is so painful for me to write. 

Previous posts: Why is Church Cliquey? & Why is Church Cliquey? Part 2

Next post: "Breaking up with church"

Let's stop shaming people for feeling like outsiders at church

Ah, a subject close to my heart--and all I could come up with is this clunky title:

"Let's"--as if there is a unified "US" that goes around shaming people.

"Stop"--as if I can actually get people to stop doing anything.

"Shaming"--Now there's a strong word.

"People"--Who are these people?

"Outsiders"--Okay. They feel like outsiders in some way.

"Church"--Refer to the unified "US" of the first word.

There's a phenomenon on facebook and elsewhere that I've started to think of as "Push Back." Push back is the "But what were you wearing?" of mildly controversial conversation. Example:

"Some guy grabbed my butt while I was riding the bus."
"Maybe he was just having a bad day and your ass reminded him of home."

Or:

"It can be difficult being a woman in the entertainment industry."
"I was the only man in my women's studies class."

Or:

"I don't feel like I belong at my church."
"Have you tried joining a small group?"

I think that at heart, a push back response is a misdirect. It misses the point and steers the speaker in another direction, like, "Well, have you tried jiggling the handle?" The listener in effect avoids, glosses over, ignores, minimizes, invalidates the original statement

I think the underlying message when it comes to belonging and church is, "It's not okay that you feel this way."

At first, this might not seem like a particularly shaming response. But think about it.

"I don't feel like I belong."
"It's not okay that I feel this way."
"There must be something wrong with me that I feel this way."
"I should stop talking about this because it makes other people upset."

It's a double burden of shame. And to state the obvious, people who already feel like they don't belong are hyper-sensitive to the shame of feeling "Not Ok."

Sometimes the response from the listener seems to be rooted in defensiveness, as in, "How DARE you suggest that my church is anything but welcoming and inclusive!" This response makes a lot of sense. If the identity of the church is rooted in how welcoming or inclusive it appears or feels to others, then any threat to this appearance or feeling will be met with incredulity and even hostility.

This is frustrating. As if no matter how much vulnerability, humility or honesty I express or how much humor I use to deflect the pain, or how much I qualify every statement, or how much credence I give to other perspectives, my story will still not be validated because it falls outside the boundaries of how church wishes to perceive itself.

Some of the things that Jesus says in the New Testament are pretty funny, especially when he's talking to the Pharisees. It's like they're speaking completely different narratives (they are) and Jesus is like, "I know you are, but what am I?"

He just, like, says stuff, and it's awesome.

Anyway, I think I feel like this a lot. As if I'm trying to tell this story and it's not getting through because the other person immediately imposes his story onto mine. There's instant denial, defensiveness, explanation or "Have you tried online dating?"

It's exhausting. I'm tired. I'm very, very tired.

Like a Kick in the Ass

Welcome! Do you need need some slightly violent motivation? You've come to the right place! Tis the season for a kick in the butt.

Is there a novel you've always wanted to write? An exercise regimen you've been meaning to start? A guy or girl you've had your eye on for a few weeks (years) now?

There are only three rules here: 

No shame
No blame
No excuses

In my opinion, a kick in the ass has nothing to do with exposing your character flaws or blaming you for not meeting your goals. Besides, shame is a terrible motivator! No, this is about giving you the right push in the right direction so you can take action. You can do it!

As for "no excuses," there will be no, "The economy is terrible right now" or "You're right, there really are no Ryan Gosling lookalikes out there who can change a tire, read Dostoyevsky and make a mean peanut butter chocolate cheesecake (at the same time)." 

In sum, the time for sympathy has passed. The time for ass-kicking has arrived. 

You hate your job:

No! Stop updating your LinkedIn profile!! Go out there and actually APPLY for a JOB. It doesn't have to be your dream job. It just has to be a job. Better yet, contact someone you know and ask them if they've heard of any openings (More effective than applying to some random job on craigslist and an excuse to reach out to an old friend. It's a win/win).

You're getting paid less than you deserve:

Ask for a raise. Write out, point by point, why you deserve a raise--not why you need a raise (to pay for that Sock Panda subscription), but why you are such a stellar employee and how you've contributed to the health and well-being of your company.

You want to start eating healthier: 

Put down that donut! Kidding. I love donuts. I've got nothing for you. Sorry. You're on your own with this one. 

You like someone but haven't asked them out: 

Ask them out. What do you have to lose other than your dignity, your self-respect, and every last shred of fear that's holding you back? That's right. Show that fear who's boss. 

You're in an abusive relationship...with facebook: 

You deserve better. Anything or anyone that demands that much of your time but gives so little back deserves to be cut out of your life. Or at least limited. 

You haven't signed up for health insurance yet: 

DAMMIT! SIGN UP FOR HEALTH INSURANCE!

You call yourself a filmmaker but haven't actually made a film at any point in the recent past: 

*crickets*

None of these apply to you? 

Here's a trick. Think of someone you know who really needs a kick in the ass. Write out what you would say to them if you were really being honest. Now read it back and apply it to yourself. [It's called projection. I know this because I'm in therapy.]

Or, think of yourself 1, 2, 5 years ago. Think about what you needed to hear at the time. Write it down. Apply it to your current situation. 

Or, even better, write a letter to yourself from the future (no shame, no blame, no excuses). Send it. 

You're welcome. 

Why You're Not Angry Enough

Because he's a really nice guy. One of the nicest you've ever met.

Because if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything.

Because you don't want him to think you're crazy, emotional, irrational, PMSing, or all of the above.

Because maybe this is God's will.

Because you don't want to scare the boys away.

Because what's done is done. You can't change the past.

Because if you're angry, you might start crying.

Because if you're angry, you might be told to "calm down," "don't over-think it" (too late), "you need to lighten up."

Because what happened to me wasn't all that bad.

Because God doesn't like it when you're angry.

Because if you're not nice, then you're a bitch, and you don't want to be a bitch.

Because women are allowed to be angry, but not too angry. [See, "And you'll scare the boys away," above.]

Because your parents did the best that they could.

Because anger feels like a destructive emotion, and you don't want to destroy anything (except patriarchy, of course).

Because you want to protect him.

Because you want to protect her.

Because maybe I led him on.

Because maybe I deserved it.

Because maybe it was my fault.

Because you don't want to "hold onto unforgiveness" or "allow bitterness to take root."

Because why can't you let go already and stop blaming other people for your problems?

Because anger hurts.

Because we don't talk about that in this house.

Because no one will ever love you if you're angry.

Crying. In public.

It was 9pm last Wednesday night and I was crying in a booth at Canter’s Deli on Fairfax. I pushed at the corners of my eyes with my knuckles and dabbed the snot leaking from my nose with a napkin. The edges of my vision blurred with tears, like a watery postcard. At the center of the postcard, still surprisingly in focus, sat my friend. 

I get ugly when I cry. My entire face turns blotchy and red. The salt stings my nostrils. My eyes puff up, causing me to look more Asian than my usual fifty percent. My nose swells. My eyelids start to itch. The corners of my mouth dry out. I can’t breathe through my nose. 

I try to avoid crying in public, mostly because of the ugliness and the sluggish way the signs of it fade from my face. I feel marked long after the impulse to weep has gone. As a kid, my dad would call me “red eyes” as I sat at the dinner table, unable to hide the signs. 

I’ve locked myself in countless stalls in countless bathrooms at countless churches, waiting for the telltale puffiness to leave my eyes, giving the all clear. 

I’ve always felt shame at any strong display of emotion. 

I have a good memory too, for emotions and things. How do I know this? Because when I say to a friend or family member, “Remember when such-and-such happened?” or “Remember when you said this-or-that?” they almost never remember. For example, my sister doesn’t remember the hurtful things I said to her when we were eleven, but I do. I remember the emotional charge of hate, fear and pain. 

My dad recently told me, “When you were little, you would burst out crying at the dinner table because of some promise Mom or I had made to you months ago.” 

It’s like I was born to hold grudges, to internalize forever the hurt and unmet expectations of the moment: “You wounded me on this day, at this hour, wearing this blue shirt.” 

Last Tuesday night, I had a dream that my sister was telling me that it was over between us. There was no yelling, no screaming, just calm, rational argument. She was making several very valid points: I had said this. Done that. Sure, it was in the past, but still the facts were there and the only logical step would be to cut ties. 

I dreamt this, knowing my sister. I dreamt this, knowing that she would never reject me. Never. In the dream, I felt numb. 

My dad and I had a fight about a year ago that ended in my tears. And honestly, I despised myself for crying. I hated the vulnerability of it. 

And sitting there in that booth, in Canter’s, on Fairfax, in Los Angeles—all I could see was how I needed to forgive myself. That it was okay to be hurt, okay to remember, okay to cry. 

Perhaps God made me this way for a reason. Perhaps it’s part of being a writer—this emotionally fraught memory of mine. 

I looked across the booth at my friend. All I could see in her eyes was empathy. I was crying, but I felt no shame. 

Advice From the Google Trenches: Hitting on Girls, Respect at Work, and Why a Guy Might Think You're Desperate

And we're back! It's time for the next installment of "advice you didn't really ask for based on google search queries that led to this blog." You can find the first installment here. Let's get down to it.

"How to hit on a girl"

Today is your lucky day. I'm going to let you in on a little secret: you can talk to girls as if they are real people. Seriously! I'm not joking. Oh, you want me to be more specific? Okay.

1) Make eye contact. I'm not saying stare intensely into her eyes--I am saying don't stare at the ground the entire time if you can help it.
2) Smile. More specifically, smile while making eye contact. Be prepared to catch her if she swoons.
3) Ask her questions, preferably about herself.
4) Listen intently to what she says. You can even repeat back key points, so she knows you're paying attention.
5) Watch your body language. Are you facing toward her, facing her at an angle, or facing completely away? If you're making eye contact and smiling, this shouldn't be an issue.
6) If you are talking to a girl and you like her, it will probably be obvious that you like her. Hitting-on-girl mission accomplished.
7) It's okay to be nervous. If she likes you, she'll probably think it's cute.

If you're ready for some next level stuff, I suggest reading this post over at LABullets. Be careful though--it's not for the faint of heart.

"Thoughts about work and respect"

I have a lot of thoughts about work and respect:
-Playful banter and/or ribbing is not the same as disrespect. Of course, every workplace is different.
-If you feel you are not getting the respect you are due, there could be a deeper issue.
-This deeper issue could be with you--are you placing your worth in your job? Will any amount of respect ever be enough? Imagine getting what you want. How would it make you feel?
-This deeper issue could be with workplace dynamics or politics. It could have nothing to do with you.
-If someone condescends to you or puts you down, it might be worth it to call them out on it--to say, "Hey, what do you mean by that?"
-Ultimately, you can't change someone else's behavior or attitude. Think about why this is so important to you. Can you make peace with not getting the respect you think you deserve? If not, it might be time to look for a different job.

"Why a guy might think you're desperate"

Whoa. Hold up right there, girlfriend. Did a guy actually tell you he thinks you're desperate? No? Then what are you worried about?

There's tons of advice out there (I should know, I googled it) on not appearing desperate. But chances are if you're asking why a guy might think you're desperate, you're too self-aware to actually be desperate.

Desperate people are not self-aware. They are too busy etching their crushes' names into their forearms.

Speaking of which, if you like a guy, it's okay to tell him. Telling him does not make you desperate. Flirting with him does not make you desperate. Wanting a boyfriend does not make you desperate. Holding someone's favorite stuffed animal hostage until he agrees to date you--that makes you desperate.

Your question does bring up another issue: the difficulty of navigating the often contradictory demands placed on women by contemporary culture: being sexy, but not slutty; being intelligent, but non-threatening; being attractive, but low-maintenance; being independent, but still needing a man; being just-interested-enough, but not desperate. You can read more about this here.

Now, if you'll excuse me--I need to go mail this ransom note from "Binky."

Advice From the Google Trenches: Your Dating Queries Answered

I'm probably the least qualified person to dish out advice about dating. If you poured all of my serious relationships into a measuring device, you would still be 1/4 cup short on flour to make chocolate chip cookies. Or something like that. But for some reason, Google keeps sending me people who seem in need of a little relational help. So here goes nothing--straight from the search engine that brought you such hits as "Gmail" and "Google+", I bring you the following search queries:

"How to ask a guy to sit with you at church"

My advice: Don't do it! Are you ready to marry this guy? No? Then don't ask him to sit next to you at church. We all know what that means. No good can come of it. But if you must, here's how the conversation might go down:

INT. CHURCH FOYER

You: Hey, where are you sitting?
Him: I'm not sure yet. Wanna join me?

There you go.

"When no one asks you out"

Wow. This makes me sad. I'm sorry that no one is asking you out. Have you thought about asking them out instead? I know rejection is rough, but who knows, he/she could say yes. Also, there are other ways to pursue someone other than asking them out. I hear from other women a lot that "no one pursues me." This could mean a lot of different things. Just make sure it doesn't mean, "No one is asking me out, therefore I am completely undesirable." Because that's not true. And if you feel that way, it has very little to do with the fact that no one is asking you out.

"How to hit on a girl on facebook"

For the love of Myspace. Why would you think that hitting on a girl on facebook is a good idea? I have never had a guy hit on me on facebook and thought to myself, "Wow, I'm so impressed. I can't believe this guy had the guts to hit on me via social media." And those other articles about facebook flirting--did you notice how they're all written by guys? Don't believe the hype. Facebook + You !=  The second incarnation of Casanova.

"Christian girls guide to wedding"

You are at the wrong blog, my friend. Let me suggest you check out Pinterest instead.

"Christian girls just not into you"

Ooh. Would this be all Christian girls, ever? Or just the ones you've been asking out? Are you "that guy"?

You might be that guy if...

You immediately ask out every cute girl who walks in the doors of your church.
You've hit on that one girl. And her friend. And her other friend. All within the same 15 minutes.
You're not sure why the girl you've been calling, texting, or emailing never responds.
You are completely oblivious about being that guy.

Maybe you're not that guy. Maybe she's just not that into you. As I remember, the point of the book was to find someone who is into you instead of pursuing the ones who are not.

This concludes the first round of "ask me anything via a google search that leads you to my blog." I hope you've enjoyed it. I know I have.

The blog that got me a date and the followup post

[These blog posts are from 2009 and may or may not reflect my current views.]

Blog 1 

Readers of this blog may know that passive guys drive me crazy--and not in a good way.

To be completely straight, dear reader, I have been burned. And I am not, nor will I ever be, a neutral commentator on the passive male phenomenon. In fact, I probably have nothing new to say. 

"Blah, blah, blah, passive guys suck." 

Nonetheless, here are a few thoughts: 

1. Everytime I/somegirl criticizes passive men, I/they feel compelled to add something along the lines of, "But we really shouldn't be too hard on the poor emotionally stunted wimps, because then they will simply retreat even further into the narcissistic void of lapsed masculinity." 

2. Criticizing passive men is a remarkable waste of time. 

3. Men are passive (eg "hanging out" instead of "asking out") because it benefits them. This isn't rocket science, but at its heart, the whole "asking out" system of male pursuit benefits women, not men. 

Women get to feel wanted. Men get to be (potentially) rejected. 

"Just hanging out" benefits men (or should I say "boys"?). All of the benefits of female companionship without a) Having to pay for anything, and b) The possibility of rejection. 

The girl eventually gets hurt by his (passive) rejection, and he moves on to hang out with someone else. What's not to like? 

4. Until we have a dating culture that stops rewarding passivity, nothing will change. 

5. I have figured out that if a guy isn't willing to risk rejection with me, then he isn't worth it. 

Blog 2

(This is part of an email to a (guy) friend who read my previous blog)

I agree, it's a complex issue. Often for girls the guys they don't want to ask them out do, and the ones they do don't. So when a girl complains about a passive guy, the issue could really be that she likes him, but he doesn't like her. 

Also, would you rather a girl "give you a chance" or tell you upfront that you don't have a chance (if that's the case)? Just as guys have trouble getting rejected, girls have trouble doing the rejecting while trying not to hurt the guy's feelings. 

Also, some girls have no problem whatsoever with more passive guys. These are usually girls who know what they want and are more than willing to control/direct nearly every aspect of the relationship. I'm just not that kind of person. It sounds exhausting. 

Also, although it seems like it's the guy doing all the work, usually the girl non-verbally "asks" the guy to ask her out before he does so. You know, body language and such. 

(I've done this with several passive guys, and though it took them long enough, they did ask me out. It's really a seize-the-moment kind of thing. Wait too long and duck season may be over.)

Also, creepy guys can be a lot of things, but they are rarely passive. 

Also, it's not just asking her out, it's how you act on the date. I had one guy ask me out to the movies. He kind of made a big deal about it. On the evening of the actual date, he acted like he would rather be doing LSAT logic problems. 

He acted like he didn't care. And despite the fact that I know he did care--probably a lot--I couldn't reconcile myself to being with a guy who would rather appear nonchalant than wait for me before walking out of a building. 

Even now, when I picture him, I see his back. 

He's walking away. 

How to hit on a girl on facebook

Fake dick pics. Every girl's dream.

First of all--welcome. Second of all, read this first.

Here's how NOT to hit on a girl on fb: 

1. Asking her how her day is going.

Hey :) How are you?
Good, how are you?
You know, just chillin. :) :) :) :)

2. Talking to her on fb chat about sex, sexting, or your penis.

3. Asking her to check out your shirtless pics and rate them on a scale of 1-10.

4. Asking her if she's a lesbian. (Yeah...that's why she's not interested. Right.)

I realize that in the last post I mostly just ranted about what I don't like--namely, being hit on on facebook, mostly by guys I've just met and barely know.

That being said, I thought maybe I'd add some how-to tips for those dire occasions when hitting on a girl via facebook is the only available option.

First a caveat: hitting on someone via fb is neither the most direct, nor the most efficacious way to go. Calling or asking in person is preferred.

That said, here are some things to keep in mind: 

1. If you don't want to be her friend, don't add her as a friend.

Instead, message her, text her or call her and ask her out (see #5). This way, you won't have to hit that "defriend" button when she responds unfavorably to your online advances. 

2. Be direct. 

Instead of asking her how her day is going, ask her if she wants to get coffee sometime or otherwise meet in person. State your intentions in so many words. 

3. Be clear. 

My friend's blog has a great take on this (and there are pictures!). If you want to see her, have a time, place and activity in mind.

4. Get to the point. 

This may be a repetition of the second item, but even so. It's better to arrive at the point immediately than to drag on a conversation about the weather in the hopes of slowly winning her over with your wit, charm and tasteful use of emoticons. It may be easier to keep up witty banter online, but these interactions are not necessarily an accurate reflection of in-person chemistry. You don’t have to tell her how much you like her or compliment her on her awesome bathroom-mirror-photography skills. Get to the point. 

5. Ask her out.

By which I mean, arrange to actually see her in-person. In this day and age, there's a good chance your paths may never again cross. Ask her out. I mean, why not? It’s intentional, upfront and unequivocal. Maybe you only met in person once and you don’t know her that well yet. Dating is a way to get to know someone better. Sure, it's intimidating, but heck, it’s just coffee/tea (it’s also not just coffee/tea, but it doesn’t have to turn into anything more if you don’t want it to. It’s up to you). Your next date may be only a fb message away. 

If you don't ask her out, guess what usually happens. Nothing, that's what. 

6. Be prepared to hear “No.”

…and respond graciously by withdrawing your suit. No harm, no foul. Plus, it’s over fb, so it’s no big deal. A facebook “no” is worth about 1/5 of an in-person “no” in humiliation value. 

I think this item might be the crux of why guys don't ask girls out--on fb or otherwise. Yeah, rejection sucks. Stereotypically speaking, guys bear the brunt of both the asking and the being rejected. However, I'm not sure that the more subtle rejection girls experience is any less ego-crushing than hearing "no." 

7. The "like" button and other soft forms of facebook flirting

I have not covered here soft methods of flirtation such as commenting on her fb status or posting random funny pictures on her wall. I don’t really see the harm in this, but again, it’s awfully indirect. 

I would advise against ever typing things like "HAWT" or "NICE RACK ;)". First of all, if a girl is posting multiple down-the-shirt pictures to her profile, she already knows she's hot. Second of all, do you really want to be part of a hot girl's online harem? This is starting to feel like a blog post for a different time...

And that's it! That's all I've got (again). Go forth and hit on that special someone this holiday season. 

Objectification and Men

Some friends and I were talking about the ways in which men objectify women--not in the sexual sense, necessarily, but in the sense of desire and projection.

A man will project onto a beautiful woman his conception of "the perfect woman." So, it's not about a mutual recognition and attraction, but about, "You are beautiful to me. Can't you see that I find you lovely?"

Perhaps this is the correlative of the "So you're saying there's a chance!" phenomenon. Hope springs eternal. But when is he pursuing a fantasy instead of a real girl? Why won't he take "no" for an answer?

When a man takes rejection personally, it's as if he's saying, "Your un-acceptance is unacceptable because it's a reflection on my worth."

But then, women objectify men too, where the "object" in question is the wedding. The groom is interchangeable. Wedding magazines are "porn." There is a TV show called "Say Yes to the Dress."

Today, I watched a court case where a young woman called the cops on her boyfriend because he wouldn't propose to her, even after she had thrown an elaborate engagement party. She was, as everyone agreed "crazy." The judge questioned her motivations: Is that love? Threatening your boyfriend so that he finally proposes?

The man is perhaps the only part of the ceremony that is not an object. The dress, the cake, the flowers. All objects.

[Note: The court case was entirely fictional. There was no claim that this was something that actually happened, but was rather written for entertainment value only.]