Monthly Archives: March 2017

Sometimes All We Have is Music

Oh hey, are you reading this?  Then my guess is you, too, are no stranger to disappointment or depression.  Are you human?  Alright then.  We’ve all been there – you got some less-than-good news, you had a bit of a soul-crushing defeat, someone you love has left you in one way or another – your friends see that you’ve put on a fucking smile anyway and then you know, you still gotta pay the stupid car insurance and got to work and buy toilet paper.  How do we keep going?  There are many answers to this complex question, and while I am a big fan in recent years of really feeling all the feels and figuring out why I feel the way I do and what, if any, action I can take, there are days when you just have to slap a motherfucking band-aid on that shit and say to life “WHAT ELSE.”

While you may really need that band-aid, I propose the theory that there is one thing that is that, but maybe more:  Music.

Music can get you out of a mood, put you in a mood, cause you to explore that mood, or shut out everything in your life that is just not a thing you can deal with right the fuck now.  As I blasted The Cult’s “Love Removal Machine” on the way to work this morning, I followed it with Deftones, Marilyn Manson, and Pantera just to get some fucking anger out of the way.  We all have our own thing.  There will be a moment in the next 48 hours in which I will probably sit bawling in my car to OH YOU FUCKING NAME IT, because my Spotify is filled with shit that will make you cry.  (Of course, when the dance-able joy of New Order’s “1963” makes me get teary, it doesn’t take much. Lyrics can hit me in the breadbasket.)

What I am trying to say is that for me, music is a key that can unlock numerous doors, or lock them back up if need be.  Sometimes you don’t know exactly what you need until that perfect song hits you.  There are other times where you know that if you roll all the windows down and turn up the volume, you’ll be allowed, in that space, to feel exactly what you need to feel.

Turn up the volume.  Either way, that guy next to you at the light totally wins.

 

 

 

 

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“I Don’t Get Along with Women”

Yeah.  I used to say this.  I used to say it a lot.  I used to wear this phrase like a badge of fucking honor.  But it never was really all that true.

What the phrase should really be is “I am scared of myself.  I am scared of my own power.  I do not want to look in a mirror and see all the things I am too frightened to be or not be.”

Today is International Women’s Day, and I can say this:  I was wrong for a really long time.  It was never about not liking women.  It was about being uncomfortable in my own skin.  Then I joined roller derby, and I didn’t have a choice but to look in that shitty mirror every fucking day.  Roller derby served as a really great halfway mark between feeling extremely uncomfortable around women and conversely, feeling great around them.  But yes, it was only a halfway mark.  Just being part of a large group of women who loved the same sport did not bestow upon me the kind of affection and care I feel for the women in my life today.

Because looking in that mirror is hard, y’all.  I saw in every one of you what I hated about myself, and what I wanted for myself but was too scared/unmotivated/unwilling to go get.

So what changed?  Me.

My perspective shifted to one of gratitude and realization for all that this mirror has done for me.  To look through the mirror and to really dig down deep and find yourself in the faces and hearts of your sisters – that’s what has changed for me.  The ugly, the splendid, the spectrum of human frailty and emotion and strength is all there.  Was always there.  In you, and in me.

So if you also find yourself saying “I don’t get along with women,” maybe it is time to dig a little deeper into the murky pit of why that is.  It’s a little gross in that pit.  But I can guarantee you will come back out of it with something you didn’t have before:  You.

To all the women who have spoken up, fought, persisted, and just kept livin’ in my lifetime and throughout the centuries, and to all the women who have not found their voices yet:

Thank you.

 

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