the way we were.

"There are two kinds of girls in the world; the simple girls and the Katie girls. I'm a Katie girl." -- Carrie Bradshaw, "Sex and the City"

I just saw this episode of "Sex and the City" where Carrie says this; she's upset because Big is getting married to Natasha, and at brunch the girls are talking about the movie "They Way We Were", and how Barbara Streisand, who plays Katie in that movie, is the complicated, curly-haired woman. Carrie says the above quote because some men can't handle the complicated women, they prefer the simple women, and Carrie admits she will always be a "Katie girl", and she's fine with that.

And I don't know if it's part of getting older, or just where I am in life right now, but I know I'm complicated. I can be intense, moody, brooding, overly analytical and obsessive, but I can also be spontaneous (okay, rarely), thoughtful, fun, and lighthearted. I value my independence but would also like to get married one day. (Although, see my previous post about how it will NOT rule my life). I love children and although I'd love to be a mom, I have to admit, I'm kind of glad I don't have any kids right now when I read the facebook status updates of some college friends....I think I might throw up if my life revolved around potty training, nanny finding and play dates right now. That being said, my nephew can melt my heart just by calling me "Aunt JJ". I struggle at times, but it makes me appreciate the good times more. I can take care of myself but appreciate the door being held for me. I don't really read fashion magazines anymore; I'd rather read triathlon magazines and writing magazines, that feed my soul and body rather than feed into a beauty myth. I am stubborn but sweet, tough but tender and, at times, can be vicious but vulnerable.

I am complicated, and I am okay with that. I am not the girl you can put into a box and anticipate my next move. I'm not the typical single girl who wants to be married above all else. I rarely cry at movies but a child can bring me to tears. I love the anonymity of Manhattan but love how the baristas at my co-op know my name. Like Carrie, I guess I'm a "Katie-girl."

(And now that SATC is on E! all the time, I love the old episodes. Miranda admits she's not a "girly-girl" and Carrie tells her thank goodness she's not.....where are the shows like this today??? We didn't realize it at the time, but SATC broke barriers of all kinds....).

weighing in.

Quick, how much do you weigh? How many calories have you consumed today? What do you see when you look in the mirror?

If you're a woman, you likely know the answersto the first two questions. As for the third, that's between you and your reflection. But as someone who has paid particular attention to the first two for years, I feel the need to comment. I realized how far I'd come when my roommate was talking about how she's gained 5 lbs and is upset, etc. I asked her how her clothes fit, and said that numbers mean nothing, that how your clothes fit and how you feel is a much better barometer of health.

I wasnt always like this, believe me. In college I was part of a sorority that was known for its "pretty" girls - although we also had the highest GPA year after year, but somehow that paled when compared to our looks. Was there pressure to look good? Of course, but I think that was prevalent on the whole campus. I will say, though, that I went from a size 10/12 to a size 2 in less than a year, and hollowed out my bagels for the remainder of college. It was years before I ate a full bagel, with the insides NOT scooped out. I never met the criteria for an eating disorder, but I definitely had disordered eating. But then again, so did every one of my friends. Unfortunately, this continued for years, although to a lesser degree as time went on.

The past few years have been great for me. I love North Carolina, I feel like I am finally finding my way (most of the time), and I feel healthy. But the 8 or so months has been the most transformative.

When I made the choice to train for the triathlon, I knew that I would have to give up much of my restrictions on various foods. I knew that I would have to eat more to sustain that level of activity. But in my heart, I knew it was the right choice for me. And so I ate. I ate peanut butter, nuts and grains, fats, carbs -- and started training. And lo and behold, my weight has evened out and I honestly, honestly, honestly, don't think about what I eat to the degree that I did. My main focus is getting the nutrients I need for my workout and training schedule. And since I have started training, have I gained weight? I honestly don't know the answer. I make the conscious choice not to weigh myself; I don't even have a scale. I know that muscle weighs more than fat, and I have been lifting weights and training and building muscle. I know that I look leaner. But I also look powerful and athletic. At least, I think I do. I wear tight yoga pants and crops to the gym because I know that I'll bust out with a 20 mile bike ride there and feel good about my body as I walk back to the locker room. Standing in front of the mirror in the weight area, my focus isn't on my hips; it's on my biceps as I curl the weights, seeing visible muscles contracting.

And if someone doesn't like what they see? Too bad for them. I'll kick their butt at the finish line.

Is this simply a product of getting older and maturing? Maybe. Is this a product of training for an endurance sport that I never dreamed I would do? Maybe. Or maybe it was simply time to stop wasting brain power and energy on fitting into a number, on fitting into what the beauty myth dictated I should be. Seriously. How much energy are women putting into getting thinner, when they could be thinking of ways to cure ALS? Or help little kids? Or succeed at their schoolwork?

It's not easy. I know this. But I also know that the rewards are sweeter than any number on the scale or size jeans you fit into.

onco-semitism?

I don't know how many of you have heard the latest thing buzzing about Komen? You can read about it here. They are helping to sponsor a bunch of breast cancer conferences/events in Egypt, for scientists in the Middle East, and the Egyptian Minister of Health has rescinded all the invites issued to Israeli doctors. The ADL put out a press release urging Komen to condemn the action, and so far, Komen has been silent. This is disgraceful. Where are all the Jewish groups speaking up? Where are all the feminist groups speaking up?

Komen, I am disappointed in you, more than I have been in the past...this is a new low.

finding a shade of gray

I think we've established who this is, from the million other pics I've posted of him. But isn't he the most adorable thing you've ever seen???

I am someone who thinks in black and white terms. Shades of grey are not typical for me. I think in all-or-nothing terms, usually. This can be good and bad. I think this kind of thinking is typical for driven, high-achieving people, but it can also make me my own worst enemy. I know this. But I was talking with my pcp here today at school, and she's like me - very black and white, etc. - and she said maybe I have to rearrange my thinking. And I know she's right. We talked about this some more, about why I want a PhD, etc, and I know that I have to seek out the gray areas. And I know it's not just black/white/gray; there are gradations of color all around me. Have I finally accepted that I will not be in a PhD program this year? Yes. Does that make me feel like any less of a failure? No, not right now. Maybe I just need time. 

In other news, I have a new family I am nannying for....and they live in my neighborhood, which is super convenient. He's a single dad, a peds cardiologist, with 2 kids, ages 9 and 11. These kids are so wonderful -- they are so mannerly and sweet; I love watching them. The 11 year old, the girl, K, cracks me up. She's so mature for her age and says the funniest things. C, the 9 year old boy, is a sweetheart and really funny. Last week I babysat overnight (b/c the dad is in the hospital on call) twice, and had a blast. We saw a movie the first night, came back and had dinner, then played basketball outside and did some homework and watched SNL, the second night I took them to lacrosse practice and did the soccer-mom type thing, and then went out for dinner. They're smart, sensitive kids. Their parents are divorced, and I know what that's like, so that broke the ice a little bit. I love taking care of children. I don't know why I love it so much. It just feels natural. Sometimes I feel like I relate better to them than adults! Children soften me, I think, which probably adds to why I love babysitting. And as crazy as this might sound, I truly do love each and every kid I babysit. I have to, in order to do my job well. Kids are amazing. They have this way of looking at the world that is so simple it makes sense in its innocence. They show affection freely and without reserve. Life is full of excitement for them. I like being around that -- it reminds me what is really important in life sometimes, and renews my faith in the goodness of people. 

About a week and a half ago, my friend Lauren's friend, Jaclyn, came to town to do a reading of her new book, Yes Means Yes!: Visions of Female Sexual Power and a World without Rape, and I was lucky enough to meet Jaclyn and go to dinner with her afterwards. Let me tell you, if you have not read this book, go to the bookstore NOW, and read it. It is a collection of essays and each one is so uniquely interesting and thought-provoking. I'm going to put an excerpt from Jaclyn's essay, "In Defense of Going Wild..." -- it's probably my favorite essay of the bunch, but all of them are excellent. 

I am one of Those Girls.

I have taken my shirt (and occasionally more) off for an audience. Sometimes to make a political point. Sometimes just because somebody asked. But almost always for the sheer pleasure of it, for the thrill of sexual power that comes from holding a room in your thrall....Wild sexual behavior is risky at best and stupid at worst, right?

Right?

No. Of course not. Stupid is nowhere near the worst. If you're a woman, wild sexual behavior is downright fucking dangerous. Not only can you "get yourself " raped, but you're also damn likely to find yourself blamed for it. After all, you should have known better. 

I'm over the whole thing. Start to finish. And I hereby declare my right to be wild and still maintain my bodily autonomy. 

Look, life is full of "stupid". Bungee jumping is stupid. Playing football is stupid. Running for president (even student body president) is stupid. Riding a motorcycle is stupid. Public speaking is stupid. Falling in love is stupid. Writing this essay is stupid. They're all likely to end in heartbreak, embarassment, injury, or all of the above. But nobody except your mother is likely to try to talk you out of doing them, and no one, including your mother, is going to blame you or deny you the assistance you need to recover if, in the course of doing them, another person physically assaults you. 

And there's the rub: risks are inherent in any behavior....But rape is not a risk inherent in partying or in "wild" sexual behavior. 

I'll repeat that: Rape is NOT a risk inherent in unregulated partying or sexual behavior. Need proof? Consider this: it's not a risk for nearly half the population. I've never met a straight man whow worried about being raped as he contemplated a night of debauchery. Vomiting in public? Yes. Getting rejected by sexual prospects? Sure. Getting in a fight? Maybe. Getting raped? Come on. ........

.....And yet it's true: women and girls can keep ourselves safe using our very own bodies. No pepper spray. No whistles. Even women who don't work out, or are "overweight" or physically impaired. If we spent even a fraction of the time we use to teach girls to fear for their bodies, teaching them to use their bodies for their own protection instead, there'd be a hell of a lot less for any of us to worry about. Because the most practical way to reduce the risk of rape for all women is to create a culture in which the rapist has to worry that he'll get hurt. 

Will any of this work 100 percent of the time? Nope. Again: life is risk. But this kind of complex message gives women real choices. Equipping them with the information and tools they need to protect themselves, and then trusting them to make their own decisions, will work a heck of a lot better than knowing less and living in fear. And it will give every woman a fighting chance at a world where she can go out and get a little crazy sometimes if she wants to. Where she can dance and drink and flirt and fool around because it feels good. A world where her pleasure is actually important. That's the world I'm living in. Care to join me?

There is so much good stuff in this book that I could keep writing....so just go to the bookstore and buy it. Please. These are fresh, young, diverse voices that have the power to change the way we see things.