Bringing in Beauty

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all photo credits go to sarah bowen

Good Morning, MarriageMixers!
(We still have not decided if we like that term, MarriageMixers, have we? What do you think?)

I wanted to tell you about a new blog written by one of my favorite artists, a fellow Colorado girl, Sarah Bowen and her new photography blog, The Photo Process. This blog is chalk full of beautiful photography (her own and the work of others), challenges, and inspiration.  You may be thinking, “Um, Cara, what does photography have to do with the reality of marriage?”

Well, great question!   Let me tell you!  One of the things Herb and I have struggled with the past three plus years is maintaining ourselves . . . investing in the individual of Cara and the individual of Herb.  Remembering who we are, what we like, what we are good at.  For me, writing this blog is an act of pursuing myself - loving on the parts of me that are unique and talented as a writer and as someone who does not mind speaking her truth out of fear of being judged.  Those things are true about me and when I don’t invest in those parts, I seriously begin to whither inside.  NOT FUN.

So, I share Sarah with you to inspire you to find what stirs you up inside.  If it is photography, great!  You now have access to a powerhouse of inspiration!  If not, I have found that following other people pursuing their passions encourages me to follow my own! So watch Sarah do her thing and then go do yours - whatever that may be!  Experiment with many things.  I went through a scrapbooking, painting, photography phase (for almost three years!) before I realized that my true loves are (and have always been) cooking and writing.  But I needed to try a lot of hats on before I came to that conclusion.  So go play and have fun as you get to know yourself again!

The other reason I share Sarah with you today is because nearly EVERY single photo she takes (or finds) is awe inspiring.  They move me.  They take my breath away.  They make me feel.  They are beautiful.  And surrounding ourselves with beauty is SO important.  Especially if you are in one of those nasty, cob webby, dark corners of marriage.  It is essential to put yourself in the face of beauty - otherwise we forget that there is anything good and right in the world.  And we loose hope.

So, go visit Sarah’s new blog. Leave her some love.   Inspire yourself!

ENJOY YOUR DAY!
Cara

Real Love Stories: About the Chicken Mole

Real Love Stories 3 Comments »

from the flickr photostream of rose lovering

On Valentine’s Day, Herb and I hosted a few close friends and their kiddos for a nice romantic dinner for six.  If dinner for six can be romantic.  And if you don’t mind a baby girl being passed around the table.  And three little kids building sky scrapers out of Herb’s vintage tinker toys in the living room.  And by living room, I really just mean the other half of the 400 square feet of open space that comprise our kitchen, dining area, and living room.

Despite all of the amazing, aphrodisiac-based recipes in the cookbook called Intercourses that I received at a wedding shower, all I could think of that week was chicken mole folded into enchiladas.  Something about the unexpected sweet punch of the dark chocolate in a spicy sauce and the understated presentation of delicious layers sounded, well, sexy.

And though I don’t know how many people left the dinner feeling amorous, it tasted mighty fine!  So fine, in fact, that I made another batch for dinner a few days later; making more than enough so we could have it at least twice.  On Saturday morning I was helping Herb make breakfast.   Only he was not interested in the sausage that I threw on the counter.  He had another plan in mind and was on a mission.  To my surprise, out came the other half of the chicken mole.  The chicken mole I had labored over.  The chicken mole that had, from start to finish, taken over an hour to prepare.  The chicken mole that was intended to be tucked away in the freezer, safe and sound and ready to be pulled back out on a night that I was too tired to make dinner.  This very same chicken mole had mistakenly been put in the refrigerator.  He began to heat it up in order to serve on top of his fried eggs.  I asked him to put the rest in the freezer for another meal.  He did.  And then, he pulled it out a second time.  He was still hungry.  He put more in the pan.  And then remarked that there would probably not be enough for another meal.

Now, most of you know where this is going, right?

I was so frustrated.  To the naked eye, this seems so silly.  It is just chicken.  It was going to be eaten at some point.  What was all the fuss about?  Sometimes, in the middle of an argument, I find myself asking the same question.  What IS all the fuss about?  What is really bothering me here?  Other times I loose my mind so fast that no such questions are pondered.  But on Saturday they were, and it was a case of feeling unheard.  Unimportant.  All I could think was that what I ask of him doesn’t matter.  That he disregarded the fact that I have recently tripled the amount of time I work, and that having extra food in the freezer was my way of managing the new schedule and stay sane.  What is funny about that, is that 85% of the time, my husband is a great listener.  He puts me at the top of his priority list as he makes choices about his day.  But during that other 15% of the time, when he eats my chicken, I feel so scared.  So alone.  I feel like my voice doesn’t matter.  I start to wonder if things have suddenly changed for good and my voice will never be held in high regard by him again.  Then I start to feel stuck in a marriage where I am not important.  All in a few minutes time.  All over a batch of chicken mole.

We talked about it.  I left the room.  I came back in.  I left again.  I cried a little bit.  I came back in.  Then Herb said, “I will make more.”  He said it in the heat of the moment.  It was hard to tell if he was trying to appease me or if he actually intended to do it.  But I thought “You BET you are making more, buddy!”

I oscillated all weekend between wanting him to follow through and make more chicken and feeling like a punitive, cranky wife who needs to get over herself and move on!  He seemed just a little surprised the next day when I mentioned we needed to run to the store for supplies, including chicken and a chocolate bar.  I am sure he was thinking, “What did I get myself into?  And why is she so cranky and punitive?”  So we took a lazy walk to breakfast and then the grocery store before coming home in the early afternoon.  After Herb spent the rest of the day wrestling with our broken dishwasher, I had no interest in pushing the chicken agenda.  In fact, I was prepared to let it go and put it in the freezer so I could make it another day.  I noticed my interest in “making him pay” had begun to wane.  The further I stepped back from the situation, the clearer a picture I had of him.  He was not just the guy who ate the chicken and left me feeling ignored and unimportant.  He was the guy who takes lazy walk with me and helps me lug groceries home.  He was the guy who knows how to fix our dishwasher and doesn’t make me feel bad about taking a long hot bath in the middle of the day while he has the thing pulled out in the middle of the kitchen, resting on it’s side.  In short, time allowed me to see him more clearly.

The next day, I arrived home around 8 AM from an early walk with my next door neighbor to find Herb flipping bacon AND preparing the chicken to be roasted!  I was pretty impressed.  And then we got into another argument (these things go in waves around our house).  Again, I was so hurt and angry.  Yet, something funny happened.  I started helping him with the chicken.  I answered his questions about what pot to use.  I chopped an onion.  I measured the oil.  I stirred the sauce.  He didn’t ask me to, I just started working.  All the while, I am thinking, “You shouldn’t be doing this.  How will he ever learn?  This isn’t punishment for him - it is punishment for you - he messed up and here YOU are cooking again!  You’re never going to make him hear you if you help him out like this.”  With every onion slice and stir of the sauce, I disregarded that voice.  The voice of fear.  The voice of contempt.  The voice of keeping score and placing blame.

Something I learned during our engagement is that fear and love do not co-exist.  And though I was hurt and sad and day dreaming about Herb moving out and having the house all to my own, I decided to choose love.  Not because I am a great person.  Or a superior wife.  Or find marriage easy.  (I mean, do you READ this blog?!?!)   But because as much as Herb and I hurt each other and drive each other crazy, there is the voice of love that lives in this house, guiding us and holding us during our most frustrating and fearful moments.  We know that voice as God’s voice. And sometimes God simply says, “Cara, shut up, don’t worry, and start cutting that onion!”

Love in Action: Welcoming Olivia

Sunday Love Scavenger Hunt 2 Comments »

photo taken from chad wible’s blog

Each week I leave a short story or video blog here about where I saw love in action during the previous week. If we are looking for love throughout the week, we will have more faith in the power of the love we share with our spouse.  Leave your story in the comments section about how you saw love in action last week!  Or write about it on your blog and leave a link to your blog in the comments section (and be sure to link your readers over here so they can see more stories about love in action!).

Last Sunday, I received a text message from the tired twin sister of my friend Allison.  It was broken and cryptic.  Immediately, the phone calls began flying.  We were all trying to figure out what was happening with Allison.  We were not getting the answers we wanted, but we were clear on one thing:

Our friend who had entered the hospital that week for abdominal pain had delivered her baby daughter 3 1/2 months early.

The next day, I sat on the floor of the Nature and Science Museum with my friend Rachael as her kids ran around in the interactive outer space display.  We talked about what Allison and her husband Chad would need in the coming weeks and what we had to offer.  We were honest with one another that for a variety of reasons, even though we both love to cook, it just was not practical right now.   I loved this part; neither of us pretended that we were capable of more than we were.  More women need to learn how to be honest about their limitations, and in that moment, we gave each other the freedom to do just that.  We decided we could each contribute some money and get a freezer full of meals from one of those “make it and take it” places.  I asked two other women if they could contribute some money as well.

Before I knew it, what started as an effort to pool $120, exploded.  Jodi took over arranging childcare for our friends’ two year old son.  Karla arranged for a local non-profit ministry to be the clearing house for collecting general funds to support the families financial needs.  Herb updated their blog with information about how people could help and who to contact.  Within 24 hours, so many people used the Pay Pal button he added to the blog, that I had collected over $400 for meals and groceries!  It was astounding.  And yet, I was not surprised.  We have lived in Colorado for about 10 years, and in that time, we have built a community of people who are learning how to work together to take care of each other.  My heart is warmed for baby Olivia that she is entering the world through the hands of practical, sacrificing love.

What Do You Want?

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Hey all, I am keeping this at the top for a little while longer, because I would really love to know what you think about this! Be sure to look BELOW this post for NEW POSTS (like, in a few hours!)

THANKS!
Cara

Real quick, I wanted to pop in again today and ask you a question.

Next month, I am going to start interviewing couples who are committed to their non-perfect marriages.

So my question is, what kinds of questions would you like for them to answer?

What are the things that you think you are alone in?

What are the things that you want to know how other people cope with?

My hope is that their open and honest diologue about their marraige will be super encouraging.

THANKS!
Cara

CONVERSATIONS: A New Way of Doing Things

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“(Starting in the 1970’s) Newly empowered, women across America turned to men and began insisting on levels of emotional intimacy that most men - raised under the old regime - were not readily able to meet.
The new marriage takes the stability, the building of a life together, that was the whole of marriage a generation ago, and grafts onto it the expectations of a lifelong romance - deep talks, exciting times, and great sex.
Contemporary women have two “sets” of relationship strategies: the traditional set handed down from the beginning of the twentieth century, and the “liberated” set handed down from the end of the twentieth century.  Neither gets you the love you want and deserve.”

- Terrence Real, The New Rules of Marriage: What you Need to Know to Make Love Work
pages 6, 8, & 9

When I read these first few pages last spring, something clicked inside about why Herb and I operate on such different playing fields sometimes.  And if you read only one book on marriage this year, please please please make it this one.  I do not think you will regret it!

In this book, Real suggests that women in Western culture are an entirely different species than they were just 50 years ago, whereas men have not changed much in that time.  While women have been on a wild journey, have a completely new perspective on things, and are craving different things from our marriages, men are left slack jawed, confused about all of the commotion going on around them.

Our culture and lifestyle no longer requires the “companionship marriages” that worked so well during the farming days of the first part of the twentieth century.  He did this.  She did that.  And they came together at the end of the day to fall into bed together once they knew that the cows and horses and children were all secured for the night.  It was a partnership, to be sure, but one in which they were often forced to divide and conquer in order to survive.  They did not have the luxury of taking long walks on the beach during that two week vacation every summer.  Paying a babysitter $10/hour while they lingered over small plates and wine would have been unheard of.  Small plates are what you ate once the Great Depression hit - not an overpriced foodie trend!  It was not practical or even on their radar.

Whether this model was “fair” or “right”, I think it made some sense during that time.  In the 1950’s and 60’s, we started to see the dark side of the model.  The husband went to work.  The wife stayed home.  Both partners were not equally appreciated (and it goes without saying which partner fell into which category).  By the late 60’s the ladies were fed up with that nonsense and they revolted.  And thank goodness for them!  It was time for a change and they were very courageous in demanding it!

So here we are.  2009.  We are equal in so many ways that our grandmothers did not even dream to think about pursuing.  Things sure are not perfect, and it certainly took too long for such a drastic shift to finally occur, but let’s all be fair - we have come a long way in a short amount of time.

And yet.

And yet, we are not completely content, are we?

We want things that were not valued in marriage 50 or 100 years ago.   We want to be partnered in every aspect possible.  We want to talk, and pick out the brand of diapers together, and have a whirlwind romance together.  We want intimacy to cover every part of our culturally new interdependent relationship.  Because our husbands have not been handed the legacy of the past two generations that women have been given, their heads are spinning as they try to catch up.  Sweet guys.  They are, in many ways, okay with the companionship model.  While so many of them have more respect for their wives, they don’t have the desire to share every thought, feeling, and trip to Costco!  Romance is for wooing a woman and the thought of continuing to do so throughout the entire marriage is confusing to some guys.

I am very lucky to have found an evolved man.  He is still trying to figure out the romance thing, but he does the dishes and talks about his feelings and likes to cuddle after love making (if we are being honest, he likes this last part more than I do!).  Many of you who I know personally also have pretty amazing husbands who are very different than the stereotypical 30-something male during the 1950’s.  And yet.

So now the question is this:

If what we want (more intimacy) is a fair thing to ask for (and it IS), how do we get it?

Real asserts that this is where women have been left unequipped by our mothers.  During the 1960’s and 70’s, they had to be very loud in order to catch the attention of an entire culture and cause the tectonic plates of thousands of years of gender roles to drastically shift.  They had to make some noise if they were going to be heard.  And then they did a disservice to us by passing down the idea that if you want to be heard you have to be a loud, angry bitch.  While it may seem sad or silly or unfortunate to us, it is easy to see how they came to this conclusion.  I mean, sure, if you are having trouble obtaining equal rights for women in the workforce, I can see how being a loud angry bitch might be necessary.  But it does not seem to have the same impact as we are shouting: “Buy me flowers and take me to dinner, and not just on my birthday, damnit!”  For some reason, guys just don’t feel compelled to respond well to that.  Go figure.   But now we are stuck with two choices:  be silent and go with the flow, or raise your voice and be a bitch.

I don’t know about you, but neither approach works in my marriage (I will let you guess which one I have tried more often).  Real’s book tries to give women a new arsenal to use in communicating with our husbands and getting our needs met.  Thank you Mr. Real, we appreciate a dude’s perspective that both honors our needs and also gives a little insight into what men respond to.

What have you found to be helpful as you try to integrate 21st century desires for intimacy into the 20th century model of companionship marriage?  In what ways is your marriage opperating in the 20th century?  In what ways have you successfully steered your way into the 21st century?  The more we discuss these things, the more likely we can all enjoy healthier marriages.

As always, if you found something here that made you scratch your head (for good or for bad), shout it out - we would love to hear your voice!

winner*winner and thanks!

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Happy Thursday, MarriageMixers!

(MarriageMixers, that is a new one.  Just trying it on for size.  What do you think? Cool? Or maybe not so cool?)

First of all, I have to give a huge THANK YOU to all of you who have been reading this blog, added it to your link or blog lines, told your friends, left a comment, or even just read something while “lurking” that made you think.  I appreciate all of your involvement and positive feedback!  It is really cool and very much appreciated!

This afternoon I drew the names of two readers to each win a great marriage book.

If I did not draw your name, don’t fret.  Herb unpacked a huge box from Amazon last night FULL of books that I purchased for future giveaways.  I plan to do one each month.

This months winners are . . . .

“My friend Callie shared your blog with me. Thanks so much for starting this. Marriage is by far the hardest thing I have ever done. Like you I am not willing to allow divorce be the answer even when it seems that it would be easier at times. Here’s to making marriages work!” -  Amanda Ditmer

I added your new blog to my daily reads. All the posts I have read so far are amazing and insightful. I plan to comment soon. - Tammy

Congrats Tammy and Amanda.

Email me at cara at herbandcara . com with your address and I will get these in the mail early next week!

An Open Letter to February 14th

Real Love Stories 3 Comments »

Dear Ms. Valentine,

When I was a little girl, your visits were a pretty big deal around my household.  I remember you showing up with your round face and soft curves.  Your pink bag and your shimmery earrings.  Your soft red curls fell perfectly around your face.  I always spent time in the mirror after you came around, trying to mimic your perfect pink heart-shaped pout.  You inspired us - pink and red shirts, socks, and hair accessories were the thing!  Little presents and love notes from mom and dad, probably a special craft project, and certainly a special breakfast!  I loved you so much.  Mostly because you loved me.  You made me feel so special!

In middle school you changed, just like so many of my other friends from elementary school.  You got all sexy.  And kind of aloof.  You were worried about popularity; who fit and who didn’t.  One time, I noticed that you started pulling those curls back into a severe twist.  The peach stain on your lips was replaced by a deep red shiny gloss.  And as I leaned into to greet you, I was certain that you had been doing a strict routine of pilates because what was once a soft bosom, was a rock solid physique, pushed into a lace bustier (I saw it poking out from your blouse).

I was not as comfortable with you as I once was.  Our conversations were awkward.  You seemed distracted and disinterested in me.  It was like you were judging me.   Things at school changed too, when you came to town.  Candy-grams were distributed during class, announcing to the world whether or not one was loved and accepted by many.  I was normally the girl that fell into the “or not” category.  You became yet another measuring rod that reminded me that I did not measure up.  So, thank you for that.  And in fact, I am sure my therapist thanks you too.  Very subtly, you told me all sorts of thing about my worth and beauty that are now paying for his third child to go to college.

Throughout college and my early 20’s, I didn’t need any reminders that I was single, but you came around each year, just in case, with a blank spread sheet that you used to keep track of all of my dates and boyfriends. You have always been reliable like that.

I will be honest Val, by the time Herb and I started dating, I was ready for a little retribution.  You would think that by that point I would be completely fed up with your nonsense.  The way you break people down into two groups - loved and unloved.  Together and alone.  The way your perky breasts make the rest of us feel inadequate and unsexy .  You are everything I am against.  But I didn’t care.  I was ready to dive into your pit of pink teddy bears holding hearts that say “I love you”.  (Though, let’s be honest, I was expecting something much classier from Herb Harjes!)

Herb tried to make our day together special.  He took me to California to meet a very special relative in her 90’s.  Before we left, he gave me a gorgeous hand blown glass vase by a local artist.  He filled it with rocks from a nearby river, flowers, and little pictures of me on that were wired into the bouquet.  He even wired in a poem by Maya Angelou and a note from himself.  I made him a little book about our love story and bought him some tickets to see Mark Cohn (who we saw on our third date together).  To me, these things are incredibly sweet; beautiful gifts from our hearts.  Messages to the other that say, “I want you in my world”.

But once we were in California, you showed up and ruined everything!   Seriously.  The nerve!  To come around like that, on my first time as an adult to celebrate your visit, and you tell me it does not count.  You rubbed it in my face that once again, I was not good enough. That if he really loved me, he would have done more.  On our way back to his Great Aunt’s home for a 6 PM pot roast and Wheel of Fortune, we drove by a restaurant.  People were walking in, all decked out and looking nice for their plus one.  Herb said, “AHH, look at all those amateurs - out for Valentines Day.”

My heart was crushed.

You sat there, next to me, and told me that it was not enough.   That I was not enough.  I listened to you sneer in my ear.  I wanted nothing more than to be wearing a cocktail dress and walking into that restaurant. I had been waiting over a decade for this.  I got quiet.  I may have teared up a little bit.  “I don’t think they’re silly.  I think it is nice.”  Aching heart.

I explained how much I had been looking forward to your visit, Val.  Everything I had hoped to do and feel while you were in town.  Herb felt horrible.  After we spent some time with his family, we went out for wings and some beers to sort of “make up for things”.  You were there too, dressed completely inappropriately for a bar, in your clingy red dress with that dreadful neckline.  And as you silently sipped your white wine spritzer, you occasionally caught my eye and laughed.

Ever since then, we both feel ourselves getting nervous around February first, when we know you are preparing for your visit.   You messed us up, Val.  Herb feels pressure to host you in our home, even though he does not understand you.  And I am dying to be wooed and charmed by my man.  Every time you send me your check list of things he has to do in order to prove his love, I wilt with disappointment.  So it should come as no surprise that he gets worried about disappointing; not being able to live up to my expectations.  Or rather, your expectations.  And silly as it may be for a grown woman, I get nervous that once again, you, a lusty beast of a love barometer will determine that I am not lovable.

Sincerely,
Cara Harjes

Update on the Book Giveaway and Some Other News

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I would love to give you some books.
These books I am giving away are great books on marriage!
So, I would love to give more people the chance to get them.
If you don’t care to add this blog to your blog lines or link it up to your blog,
that is okay!

All you have to do
is leave me a comment!
Just let me know that you are here!

I will draw a name from both blogs
on Thursday
and post the winner that evening!

In other news,
I wanted to let you know that
in a few weeks,
we will start having some AMAZING
guest bloggers
contributing every Wednesday
in the Love Stories section.

This month you will also see TWO
new types of posts
which will leave you with FIVE days

of MarriageMix posts!

So get excited -
I am!

Love in Action: Kevin Still’s T-Shirt

Sunday Love Scavenger Hunt 4 Comments »
Each week I leave a short story or video blog here about where I saw love in action during the previous week. If we are looking for love throughout the week, we will have more faith in the power of the love we share with our spouse.  Leave your story in the comments section about how you saw love in action last week!  Or write about it on your blog and leave a link to your blog in the comments section (and be sure to link your readers over here so they can see more stories about love in action!).
Kevin Still

Kevin Still

This week I saw love in big time action going on over on my friend Kevin’s blog.  This post really speaks for itself, so I won’t say much other than this:

I appreciate anyone who is willing to push boundaries and take risks for the purpose of seeking the heart’s of others and pursuing truth.  THAT is love!

Here is Kevin’s essay on being a white male feminist living in the south.  If something here moves you, head over to his little spot in blogland and let him know!

hello.
my name is kevin. my wife and i live in texas. she has a vagina. i have a penis. such anatomical assignments were our destinies, and we’ve learned to make do as boy and girl. (we’ve even learned to have a little fun with it all, too.) last year my wife made me this t-shirt for my birthday. we like it. actually, we like it more than some people do. you’d be amazed at the types of responses this shirt awards me - from friends as well as strangers - each and every time i wear it. i have instantly made both friends and foes simply by wearing this shirt into a coffee shop or a sporting goods store. if you must know, i am not a very politically minded person; therefore, my feminism is not entirely rooted in civil liberty or jurisdictional prudence. although those hopes are there, my feminism runs much deeper into who i believe i am becoming as a husband, a son, a brother, a friend, and a heterosexual male. my feminist beliefs are just one of the many glorious traits wound up in this big lumbering paradox of me. i have been meaning to write a list of my feminist ideas for a long time now. i credit eve ensler’s THE VAGINA MONOLOGUES, which i will see tonight with a lovely batch of women and my brave friend felix, with challenging me to finally write this down. i bring this to you, dear gendered public, all you out there with your vaginas and penises, with a hope to stir up conversation, emotion, prayer, art, anger, conviction, confession, healing, and mercy. i firmly believe that one of the great mysteries of the gospel of Christ is not a denial of our sexuality, as the church has tried to teach us for centuries, but, rather, a redeeming of our sexuality. our genders are a great and precious secret about us as individuals. bringing those secrets into relationship - both with same and opposite genders - can be tricky. the following list, and hopefully the conversations to follow, comprise a small attempt to share myself and to celebrate others well.


i call myself a feminist because . . . .

. . . . i entered this world through a vagina.

. . . . my life drastically improved the day i began sharing it with a woman.
. . . . i need more than a male perspective.
. . . . all the married men i know literally fall apart when their wives go away for even a weekend. i honestly forget to feed myself.
. . . . girls are not born with a natural desire or tendency to despise and compare their bodies. we teach them to do that.
. . . . i want to raise daughters.

. . . . i want to raise sons well, too.

. . . . as an english teacher, it makes me angry that the core of our great literary canon - all the books we tell students are “important” - were written by dead white guys. this is ridiculously unnecessary on many levels.

. . . . too many girls in the american high school learn that the only way to socially succeed is to play dumb.

. . . . too many other girls are learning to play the slut. neither of these behaviors reflect a natural social inclination. young people learn this form of gender misidentity at a very young age.

. . . . there also exists a narrow margin of american high school girls completely ignored for refusing to play either dumb or the slut.

. . . . at the end of the day, they still call the boy the “stud” and the girl the “whore.” this is enough to make me want to turn somebody’s other cheek.


. . . . little boys are learning the “wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am” mentality of sex at younger and younger ages.

. . . . the words “bitch” and “ho” are regular parts of most adolescents’ vocabularies.


. . . . women should never apologize for their menstrual moods. in fact, thank you for being the sole portal of life on our planet. that’s pretty frickin’ boss.

. . . . the church has stroked their steeples for too long on misread scriptures.

. . . . the bible does not give men the right to tell women what to do or how to do it. that is not what “submit” means.

. . . . the bible does not tell women to be silent. you were not a member of the church of corinth, and paul knew something about them gals you didn’t. maybe he knew them corinth girls were buck wild.

. . . . for all the machismo in the scriptures, especially back there with some of them burly old testamenters, Jesus had a phenomenal way of seeking women, speaking to women, and listening to women. i like that about Him.

. . . . my social, emotional, mental, intellectual, relational, spiritual, and creative consciences demand it of me.

. . . . today, while wearing my feminist shirt in the grocery store, i was called a “fucking faggot” by a young texas male. he then told his friends to look at my shirt. another guy said, “yeah, that’s fucking lame.” and they all laughed. i just held their eye contact and smiled.

. . . . regardless of what the next guy might say, the majority of institutions in america are still patriarchally geared, even those without malicious intent.

. . . . too many men too easily walk away from the seeds they have planted.

. . . . neither 100% patriarchy nor 100% matriarchy work. we need balance. as a man, i want to both recognize this and accept the challenge.

. . . . women are mysterious.

. . . . women right now, even in our own country, are being bought and sold as commodities.

. . . . even in america, there are places where it is culturally accepted and expected to physically abuse women.

. . . . sex should never be viewed or demanded as “a wife’s duty.”

. . . . somewhere today little girls are abandoned on the side of the road simply for being female. the prize of a male child is far too great.

. . . . somewhere today little girls are losing their clitoris to a cultural blade.

. . . . women i personally know still believe the violence against them was their own fault.

. . . . women i personally know remained silent far too long out of fear.

. . . . the consistent narrative in romantic fiction shows a helpless woman in need of a rescuing man. and while this is a good and true story for some people, i have lived the opposite many times.

. . . . my wife constantly astounds me.

. . . . many of the strongest, most profound voices in my life were those of women.

. . . . it was a woman, my dear friend sarah were, who first put me on a right path of considering my masculinity.

. . . . even though i dearly love God, my wife, and the women in my community, i still struggle with a desire for pornography.

. . . . when i am very honest with myself, deep down in the middle of my humanity, the idea of a strange, beautiful woman taking off her clothes and dancing on me for ten dollars is very appealing.

. . . . i want my heterosexuality redeemed.

. . . . too many people (mostly men) refuse to talk about their own sexuality, as if it were something in a concrete fixed form that does not breathe or grow or shutter in certain corners.

. . . . i refuse to pretend, just because i love Jesus and i am married, that i am asexual.

. . . . i do not believe it is wrong, perverted, or adulterous to consider or proclaim the physical beauty of women other than my wife. she doesn’t make me feel otherwise, so i sure don’t need anyone else making me feel otherwise.

. . . . i hate side-hugging the women i love. listen, i know you have breasts. in fact, i’m glad you have breasts. and, you know what, your breasts are very pretty. but they are not what i’m moving in for here.

. . . . i want to view my wife, my mothers, and the women in my community well.

. . . . i need healthy relationships with women.

. . . . i am still learning how to have healthy relationships with women.

. . . . women are beautiful.

It May Be Over Commercialized, But Who Passes Up on a Day to Spread the Love?

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photo credit: kara haupt

photo credit: kara haupt www.oldladyinateenager.blogspot.com

“What a grand thing to be loved!

What a grander thing still, to love!”

- Victor Hugo

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