The "Be Your Authentic Self" Lie

 

The "being your authentic self" gambit has been used by the beauty industry, the diet industry, and the plastic surgery industry forever. Consider the idea that if I were to lose weight, get asteroid-sized silicone breast implants, dye away my gray hair, remove all my body hair, and wear a crap-ton of makeup to hide my complexion flaws while covering my naturally scanty eyelashes with long false eyelashes, I would magically become my true self. It's bullshit. I'd just be a smoother, thinner version of me with fake boobs, dyed hair, apparently flawless skin, and long, fake eyelashes. I'd still have the same problems I have now, but I'd have to spend a lot more time maintaining a ridiculous illusion of youth while forcing myself to conform to a rigid set of beauty standards. Been there, done that. No, it didn't make me happy. It was an insidious lie.

The gender cult version of this lie is even worse because it pushes people with gender dysphoria to rush into extreme, irreversible, harmful measures to ease their distress with themselves. One can stop dyeing their hair and wearing excessive makeup, stop removing all their body hair, stop engaging in rigid, punitive dieting routines, and have breast implants removed. It is impossible to reconstruct functioning reproductive organs that have been removed, cross-sex hormones cause lasting and sometimes permanent alterations to the body, and puberty blockers are not the benign, reversible drugs that the pro-affirmation gender disciples want people to believe they are.

~Sly Has Spoken~

Stock image by Julia Henze

Purchased from 123rf.com

Sly Likes: Feminist Poetry from H. Hennenburg

Image by Dimitris Vetsikas from Pixabay

The statue depicts Dame Millicent Fawcett (11 June 1847 – 5 August 1929), an iconic British feminist.

Today I encountered a thought-provoking poem entitled The Shape of Water. It was written by H. Hennenburg in 1998.

"But do you know that a woman's voice will change the world slowly? Light will creep in where she unburdens her heart."

This poem inspired a train of thought for me.

It makes me think of a line from the song by Ten Years After.

"I'd love to change the world but  I don't know what to do. So I leave it up to you."

Then there's another song that comes to mind, this one by Ani DiFranco.

"I am not a pretty girl, that is not what I do."

Here I am, a woman who sees the ways in which we could be kinder to one another and make the world a better place. But since I am a strange old bird and not pretty at all, I have a hard time making myself heard. The world doesn't tend to listen to women who look like me.

Then again, they don't tend to listen to the women that men fall all over themselves to get next to either.

~Sly Has Spoken~

Royalty-free image copyright Julia Henze. Purchased from 123rf.com

Notes

Sly Fawkes is your ornery old Aunt Cie's snarky political alter-ego.

The Icky, Sticky, Nit-Picky Legalese, if You Please (Or Don't Please)

Content copyright 2020 by Cara Hartley

Please do not repost

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Sharing a link to the post is acceptable.

Quoting portions of the post for educational or review purposes is acceptable if proper credit is given.

Fat Friday: Thoughts from an Irritating Overweight Woman

Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay

As my fan club of -666 readers knows, I review books for a living, such as it is.

I was presented with a book to possibly review, and was, initially, excited. It was a collection of short stories about a group of female friends.

The short story is an undervalued art and female friendships are an undervalued treasure. I was interested in reading this until I saw one of the characters described by another reviewer as "an irritating overweight woman."

The comment about the "irritating overweight woman" gave me pause. Why is her weight such a determining factor in her characterization? Many authors tend to write large people in a negative light. As a person who fights with my abusive partner ED (Eating Disorder) constantly, I don't really need to read works that vilify people who look like me. It's a shame because a good short story collection about female friendship sounded like just the ticket.

I decided to give the book a hard pass.

Authors (like society as a whole) love to scapegoat, stereotype, and vilify large people. I have enough problems wrestling with ED on a daily basis. I don't really need to read fiction putting down people who look like me yet again. ED does that quite often enough.

Fat and Ornery

Image copyright Open Clipart Vectors

Sly and Snarky

Image copyright juliahenze @123rf.com

Real Cie Reviews + FOAD Thursday: Harassment is Sexy and Fat People Aren't Even Human

Rating: Since there ain't no zeros, I'll give you a one

Nora Roberts' Nightshade is a trope-laden mess. Initially, I enjoyed the "hard-boiled detective narrative from a female perspective," but, fairly quickly, the cracks began to show.

I became tired of the male protagonist disrespecting the female protagonist's comfort zones and this being written as sexy rather than as harassment. She was not only supposed to endure it, but she was also supposed to enjoy it. Because nothing is hotter than a guy who won't take no for an answer.

The icing on the unpalatable cake was the "disgusting fat cat lady" who "had two chins and was working on a third," and the hero could see "at least two hundred pounds of bulk under her dress." This woman proceeds to "rub one of her chins."

I thought that Eleanor the cat lady was the most interesting character in the whole mess. I would have enjoyed reading Eleanor the Cat Lady's story. I would like a whole series of Eleanor the Cat Lady stories, where Eleanor is written as an interesting, eccentric, large human being, not a revolting, sub-human stereotype.

How hard would it have been to say that a large, elderly woman answered the door, and the hero could see several cats lying in the windows and on the furniture? The personable lady smiled and invited the hero in for cake and coffee. She was wearing a loudly colorful tunic which she may have made herself.

How easy it would have been to make the character both large and eccentric without being hateful.

Fuck Nora Roberts, and fuck every author who can't write a large character without insulting and dehumanizing them.

So done with this shit.

Cie does not recommend this book and she is unwilling to even share a link to this book even though she needs every cent she can get her broke-ass hands on.

Exposure to Porn and PTSD in Girls and Women

Image by Alexas_Fotos from Pixabay

This post may be a bit of a hodgepodge. Bear with me.

The following are comments on a post at Feminist Current regarding PTSD in female adolescents caused by repeated exposure to online pornography. Comments from The Real Cie are my thoughts.
People with mental illness as a whole are being let down by the mental health system.
People with PTSD are being let down by the mental health system.
Women and girls are being let down by the mental health system.
The mental health system needs to be overhauled. However, in a society where people with disabilities are made pariahs and forced into poverty and health care is placed out of reach for many people, I don't foresee changes coming anytime soon.

Pet peeve time:
The word "womxxn" makes my eyes go crossed and my brain go stabby. There are no "womxxn". There are only women. Stop doing this!

Sarah aka Anemone • a day ago

minor correction: Bessel van der Kolk is male.

This is such an important subject. I spend way too much time online because I'm isolated 

due to disability and trauma, and I have to say it's actually helped me with some things, 

but it's never the same as healthy in-person relationships. Unfortunately most of us live in large

 cities where it's hard to connect with people. I think we are going to have to redesign cities so 

they are more people friendly, less car-friendly, both in terms of urban design and in terms of 

social structures, so people can connect with more people irl.

That might help with preventing online trauma, but unfortunately, that won't help with trauma

 in the family, which pushes some of us online. I watched a TED video recently (

Watch the video

by Nadine Burke Harris, who talked about ACE scores and how revolutionary it is to know that 

adverse childhood experiences contribute so much to physical health down the road, but when it 

comes to public response, crickets. People find trauma too hard to talk about. I lost my family 

because people find trauma too hard to talk about, so they'd rather push me out than deal with it. 

I guess that's where people who can deal with trauma need to step up.

therealcie  Sarah aka Anemone • 16 minutes ago

"I'm isolated due to disability and trauma."

Me too. People like us are very vulnerable, and I'm fully aware that no-one gives a flying shit.

Hella Dea • a day ago

You know the stages of grief charts.
I would really like one made for womxxn with ptsd.

• • −

  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  therealcie  Hella Dea • 12 minutes ago
  

  
  

  Unless the PTSD is addressed and worked on, I don't know that there are stages for it other than "acute" and "always there fucking up your life forever." 
• Anyway, those are the two stages I've experienced with it, and addressing and working on it isn't as easy as it sounds when there are monetary and other barriers to finding a therapist. When it comes to therapists, I've had bad experiences and don't trust them damn crooked vultures. I've also found that there is a lot of sexism in therapy and often women's trauma is written off as "female hysteria."
• 
  
• Springheeledjim • a day ago
  " Studies increasingly show that the way young people consume social media, 24/7, is not only leading them to feel less socially connected, but also leading them to decreased mental wellness. "
  
  I'd agree with this.
  
  But as the father of a teenage girl who spends much of her life online, I don't necessarily think it's the sexualisation and pornification of the internet that is the biggest problem.
  
  Online bullying ( mentioned only in passing in this article ) is perhaps a bigger problem. And the feeling that everyone else is ' living their best life ' ( as the expression goes ) while you may be suffering from issues of self-esteem and/or worthlessness, or lack of direction... is perhaps a bigger problem still.
  
  I've already agreed on previous threads that young people have too much access to porn, and that it's warping their views on sexuality. I have no intention of revisiting that argument now. And I'm not saying that online porn is not a problem.
  
  But this article seems to be suggesting that it's the main reason why the internet is causing young teens mental health problems. And I don't think that's true.

therealcie  Springheeledjim • 23 minutes ago

Since you've made it clear that you enjoy porn and believe that full legalization of prostitution is a positive thing, I doubt you can possibly understand how porn can very negatively impact a young woman even if she is never drawn into it herself.

My father never treated me as a sex object (thankfully) but he had plenty of adult magazines around. I don't think the early Playboys had a negative impact. Early Playboy had art nudes as opposed to lurid pictures of young women fully spread-eagled and either leering at the camera or looking like a deer in the headlights.

My father's attitudes towards porn made me realize quite early on that all men, even good men like my father, see women as nothing but pieces of ass. It was upsetting, discouraging, and led me to realize that my father would side with creepy men over me, whom I became aware he saw as a second-class citizen. He may not have been aware of this himself, but he did see me and all women that way.

My father would always talk about women in terms of their physical appearance, not their accomplishments. Even as an adult, it was discouraging to me when he referred to Winona Ryder as "that plainest of plain Janes". Being quite a plain Jane myself, it cemented for me that my father saw women as things, not people.

I hope you will at least try to be a little careful of how you present your attitudes regarding women where your daughter is concerned. You may not realize it, but she is probably well aware that her father sees women as objects. You may be a good father in other regards, and I hope I am right in the belief that you do not sexually objectify your daughter. However, a man's attitude towards the objectification of women can have a lifelong impact on his female children. Your attitudes towards porn may be harming your daughter more than you realize.

Dudebros Be Like + How Stupid Are Wingnuts: Heavy Makeup = True Beauty

So let's deconstruct how stupid this is. You cherry-pick pictures of heavily made-up young women and place them side by side with pictures of ordinary women who don't have the makeup put on with a trowel. So, according to wing-nut "logic," wearing a crap-ton of makeup must be "true beauty."

Also, Michael Moore (bottom right corner) is not a woman.

~Sly Has Spoken~

Image copyright juliahenze @123rf.com

The Party: A Modern Tale of Prejudice and Revenge

Angela Bassett as Marie Laveau was my inspiration for Aunt Mila

Gabourey Sidibe as Queenie was my inspiration for Maria

The Party

Genre: Supernatural/Horror

Words: 1000

Content Warnings:

Body shaming, sexual assault, profanity, sexism

Rating: PG-13 

Note:

This story was originally published on my flash fiction blog for a Halloween  2018 short stories contest. Pretty much to a person, everyone who commented missed the point about the attitudes of sexism and sizeism and the intersection thereof, which led to the abuse of the protagonist. Readers instead fixated on my modernized take on the magical gender-swap revenge exacted on the protagonists. I was admonished that I should not refer to transgenderism in anything but the most glowing light.

I felt that my reference to gender reassignment was neutral and was only done to put the story in the twenty-first century rather than the nineteenth century. In modern times, gender reassignment surgery is a reality and people are more likely to believe that their relative who has been transformed into the opposite sex underwent gender reassignment surgery than that they were switched to being the opposite sex by magic.

Perhaps I could have done a better job of imparting this idea, but the story was not about gender reassignment. I was rather appalled that a neutral mention of gender reassignment surgery entirely overshadowed the actual point of the story, which was the way society objectifies women, despises and abuses larger women, and excuses the abuse and objectification of women.

There was absolutely no intention of belittling the struggles of transgender people when I wrote this story. I simply wished to modernize the setting rather than going with the old "it's magic, I don't need to explain shit" tactic.

The contentious tale follows below.

~Sly~

“Did they force you to their will, my girl?”

Ludmila Lum’s angular face bore a staid expression, but Maria could see the little vein in her aunt’s set jaw pulsing. Aunt Mila’s warm brown eyes had gone black as the sky over an angry sea, the kind of sky that produced storms which sent ships to their graves on the ocean floor.

Mila’s expression softened at the worry in her niece’s eyes. Her bony hand enfolded Maria’s soft, plump one and a gentle smile pulled at the corner of her mouth.

“It’s all right, Mee-Mee. I am not angry with you. Even if you were drunk or high, even if you were flirting with all the boys. Now, you tell your Auntie Mila, did those boys force you to their will?”

“It wasn’t…sex,” Maria said softly, looking down at her feet. “I suppose I am making too much of nothing, as the University President said.”

Maria’s soft, round face, usually so sweet and happy, reflected shame and self-loathing. Ludmila tried not to project anger, lest her sensitive niece believe the ire was directed at her. Maria was a big girl in a world that made no bones about its hatred of soft, pillowy bodies. Ludmila worked hard to teach Maria to love herself as she was, to give her shy, plump niece the confidence that reflected her loving spirit. Ludmila was enraged that awful people had exploited the innocent girl’s attempt at sociability in an unspeakable way.

“They did not put themselves inside me, Auntie,” Maria explained in a quavering voice. “When they first invited me into the party, they were nice enough. It was guys and girls together, just showing off their costumes, just everybody dancing and having fun. The boy who invited me in, I started to think that perhaps he was falling in love with me, as he seemed only to have eyes for me in those first two hours.”

“Does this boy have a name?” Ludmila inquired.

“Omer, Auntie,” Maria revealed quietly.

“Omer Raines? Doctor Raines’ boy? The one you’ve carried the torch for since you were ten years old?” Ludmila demanded.

Maria nodded, her body shuddering as she wept.

“All these years he was my friend,” she sobbed. “In school, he defended me whenever anyone made pig noises at me or called me names. I thought we were destined to be only friends, but at the party, he seemed to echo my feelings. I gave thanks to Erzulie for the gift. ‘His heart echoes my heart,’ I thought, and at that moment, I was so happy.”

“He brought me to the front of the stage where the band was playing, and he told me to dance,” Maria continued. “’Show the world how beautiful you are, Chere,’ he insisted. ‘Dance for us!’”

“So, I danced, and at first, it seemed that all the years of hate and shame for this big body were burned away. Here I was, dressed as the Queen of Hearts, but a kind queen, not one calling for heads to roll. Everyone was clapping and cheering, and I was dancing, Auntie! I was getting down, and everyone was getting down with me, and no-one was laughing at me. But then the fraternity president gave a signal with his hands, the band changed their tune, and so did everyone else.”

“Any special tune they played?” Ludmila inquired, and by the look in her eyes, Maria was sure her aunt knew the tune she meant.

“The stripper song, you know, the one they always play in cartoons and stuff. I thought it was a joke like maybe some of the fellows would drop their trousers and do a moon, all in fun like that. But then one of the boys called out ‘take it off, Fat Girl.’ I flipped him the bird, still laughing because I thought perhaps it was a joke. But then they started pulling at my clothes, boys and girls alike. There was a blonde girl wearing almost no clothes at all who slapped me and said: ‘you don’t belong at a party, you pig, you belong in a barnyard!’”

Maria shuddered as she dropped to the floor and rested her head against her aunt’s lap. Each of her niece’s violent sobs threatened to shatter Ludmila’s heart.

“They tore the front of my dress and exposed my breasts,” Maria revealed. “The boys were grabbing my breasts and slapping my backside. The skinny blonde girl kicked me in the backside and said ‘get your fat, ugly ass away from our party, Petunia Pig! This party is for people only!’”

“Omer followed me from the party,” Maria continued. “He asked where I was going. I said I was going to the police. He tried to stop me, said it was only a joke that got out of hand. I slapped him and told him to never talk to me again. The police just said I should have known better than to go to such a party. I went right to the home of the University president. He told me that he was sorry it happened and that he would talk to the fraternity President, but he asked me to keep things quiet because we would not want to bring shame upon the school. I have always believed in a just and fair world, Auntie, but I see now there is no justice for people like me.”

“There will be justice,” Ludmila reassured her niece. “You rest now, my love.”

While Maria slept, Ludmila worked her spell.

“Justice is served,” the Voodoo priestess declared, leaning back in her chair.

A day later, there were multiple articles about the sudden rash of gender reassignment surgeries among students and faculty at Bayou College. The wives of both the University president and the chief of the campus police publicly expressed their shock, and local doctor Henri Raines declared that he’d no inkling that so many students, including his own former son Omer, were seeking gender reassignment surgery.

~The Real Cie~