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Ashley Judd Gets it Right
April 11th, 2012 by Jonalyn
“The only thing that matters is how I feel about myself, my personal integrity, and my relationship with my Creator.”
–Ashley Judd
Ashley Judd recently wrote, “Patriarchy is not men. Patriarchy is a system in which both women and men participate.” I could not agree more. Patriarchy is held in place at least partially by women.
What is patriarchy? permanent rule by male/s. Other names it goes by: complementarianism, Biblical Manhood and Womanhood.
As a seminary graduate who follows Jesus, these titles are misleading. I believe in the sexes complementing each other, and I believe in Biblical womanhood (and manhood, too).
So why is Judd frustrated with patriarchy?
En mass women and men have accused her new “puffy” face as a result of plastic surgery, a look that she explains is the result of 6 months of laziness. Her response in The Daily Beast explains among other things that the problem with the public’s response in a patriarchal belief one version of beauty is all a woman like her can contribute. Ashley Judd’s face and body are being picked apart by scavengers, patriarchal scavengers.
Photo credit: collage US Weekly (of course), photos: Gary Gershoff/WireImage.com; George Pimentel/WireImage.com
Now how is objectifying women a patriarchal thing? I’m glad you asked.
First, let me share that Judd isn’t taking it lying down.
She insists upon forming a feminist discussion, not one driven by patriarchy or the standard that men’s bodies, goals or sexual fantasies determine women’s value. As she writes,
If this conversation about me is going to be had, I will do my part to insist that it is a feminist one. Who makes the fantastic leap from being sick, or gaining some weight . . . to a conclusion of plastic surgery? Our culture, that’s who. The insanity has to stop, because as focused on me as it appears to have been, it is about all girls and women. It affects each and every one of us: our self-image, how we show up in our relationships and at work, our sense of our worth, value, and potential as human beings.
First, she’s correct in seeing patriarchy as the cause. I’ll get to that in a moment.
Second, she is using “feminist” correctly. Though I’ve written about this before “What Does Feminism Mean to You?” with reasons Jesus was a feminist, it bears repeating in context of Judd’s quote.
Feminism is not a synonym for godless or lesbian. Feminist is not the opposite of “chauvinist” (sorry, Mark Driscoll). Feminist is not identical with a pro-choice advocate or a bra-less, hairy female.
Feminist when used correctly, as the most conservative dictionary defines it, means “Belief in or advocacy of women’s social, political, and economic rights, especially with regard to equality of the sexes.”
And feminism hasn’t won and is now being replaced by something more “sane.”
“We are no more a post-feminist society than we are a post-racial one. The goals of feminism have yet to be reached.” Lisa Solod explains in “What We Need to Talk about When we Talk about Sex and Feminism” at The Good Men Project.
And what exactly are the goals of feminism? my colleague Paul Franks asked after I tweeted Solod’s quote above.
I’m glad you asked.
Feminism is a belief that women are as valuable as men.
Valuable enough to choose the best career combining their gifts, their desires and their life goals.
Valuable enough to reflect God’s characteristics.
Valuable enough to be able and worthy contributors to every aspect of life.
This is not to discount women’s differences. I believe in our distinctions, wrote a whole book about them in fact (Ruby Slippers). But my conclusion is that every slice of society and culture,
from pulpit preaching,
to final decision making in the family,
to spiritual leadership,
to the highest office of the land
would benefit from unmuting women’s voices.
Feminism wants to actively reach for woman’s voice in every aspect of life. To include women as more than an ornament.
Most people say they agree with this idea, that women are not just ornamental. I know Christian patriarchalists who are emphatic that women ought not be objectified.
However, when a patriarchalist makes the man the spiritual leader of the home, they remove spiritual authority and responsibility from women. This turns an adult female into a permanent underling of the tie-breaking male “head.” Not even Jesus subjected himself permanently to the authority of the Father (Matt 28:18). The wife becomes the receiver, the object of the male’s decision making. And any time a human is treated as an object, not a subject, you have objectification. The same is true in our churches, but that is another matter.
Why don’t more people take the term “feminist” as their own? Why are secular people quicker to own it than religions? My theory is that the term “feminist” has been so smeared by religious organizations that it confuses religious people. Feminist has become a scary term to take up in evangelical circles. It’s also an impossible term to adapt if you believe women cannot play certain roles, hold certain offices.
But until another culturally recognized (and I mean in secular and sacred places) term comes to light, I will use “feminist” to talk about this equal value of men and women.
What I appreciate is how Judd gets the danger of patriarchy. Listen to her elucidate as I contextualize her quote above,
That women are joining in the ongoing disassembling of my appearance is salient. Patriarchy is not men. Patriarchy is a system in which both women and men participate. It privileges, inter alia (I had to look this up it means “among other things”), the interests of boys and men over the bodily integrity, autonomy, and dignity of girls and women. It is subtle, insidious, and never more dangerous than when women passionately deny that they themselves are engaging in it. This abnormal obsession with women’s faces and bodies has become so normal that we (I include myself at times—I absolutely fall for it still) have internalized patriarchy almost seamlessly. We are unable at times to identify ourselves as our own denigrating abusers, or as abusing other girls and women.
In closing Judd makes a call to sisterhood, ”I ask especially how we can leverage strong female-to-female alliances to confront and change . . . that there is no winning here as women.”
Small as I am, I offer her my alliance to confront and change.
The goal of feminism that women ought never be objectified is worth defending.
Tags: beauty, body, envy, feminism, politics, vulnerability
Posted in aging, beauty, Christian feminism, gender roles, vulnerability | Comments (30)
Why I Believe in Regrets
April 4th, 2012 by Jonalyn
I’ve met people who say they live with “no regrets.”
Frankly, I just don’t get that. Doesn’t regret mean “wishing you had done something differently”?
Don’t we all wish we’d done some things differently?
God turned it to good for Joseph, but do you think Joseph's brothers had regrets? Photo credit: ortzion.org/bunny-trail_Joseph_2.html
Maybe Christians tend to be so delighted when God uses our mistakes we forget that our mistakes were, well, mis-steps.
Regret doesn’t mean God won’t use your mistake. Regret means you made a mistake and you’re owning it, you’d like a “do-over” if possible and yes, you’d love for God to make roses grow in this manure.
In college I got engaged to a guy I didn’t marry. I regret getting so close to him and hurting him. I also regret being hurt.
However, God used that broken engagement. The experience helped me write my most successful talk “God Wants the Broken.” Very cool.
God used my mistakes. But I still regret making them.
Those who say they have no regrets, I believe, often mean they are glad God used their mistakes because without them they wouldn’t be the person they are today.
Okay, I understand that sort of “Give praise in all circumstances” attitude. That’s giving God credit to use things we don’t find useful.
However, to say, ”If I had my life to do all over again I would do exactly the same things, even the mistakes” feels stubborn, maybe even blind. God can use our mistakes, but he can also use our love, our growth, our virtue. In fact, God likes using willing, growing people, the people who have cultivated “good soil” in their hearts, the ones who will produce an abundant crop (read Matthew 13).
But we can’t grow if we don’t see the mistakes in our lives as mistakes, with remorse and yes, regret. I don’t mean we need to grovel and feel like wormy worthless souls. But we do need to say, “Oops, next time I’m going to avoid that.”
In my experience of who God is, he loves using the willing much more than the proud. And to say, “I have no regrets,” smacks a little of pride.
So, in the spirit of working on my own pride factor, I’d like to share a few regrets of my life.
Regret #1
I regret not standing up for myself and taking time off to be with my mother-in-law when she died. I was in my first year teaching junior high when she took a turn for the worse. Her breast cancer had metastasized to her lungs, she had months left. The secretary in charge of time-off was intimidating. She gave me a hard time when I took a week off early on in my first semester to visit my mother-in-law. In the spring, when my husband flew out after another downward turn, I waited, hoping I could get word of her final few days and fly out in the knick of time. But, honestly, I was scared to ask for more time off. I was afraid of the secretary’s judgment and censure. I never saw her again. I wasn’t there when she breathed her last with her daughter and son and son-in-law holding on to her hands and feet. I missed her final breaths on earth.
Regret #2
I regret waiting so long (okay I’m only 32, so not THAT long, but still TOO LONG) to re-acquaint myself with my two biggest loves: reading and watercolor. I’ve known since I was five that I love to read almost more than anything else on earth. And I’ve known since I was 10 that watercolor calls my name. But it felt so frivolous. It’s taken 20 years to re-learn permission to do the things I love. It’s required more courage than I had to coordinate time away from Soulation and wife and mother stuff to just paint, or just read (New Year’s Resolution and Time Management).
"Icy Dawn" painted for this month's art show, Steamboat Gallery
Regret #3
I regret not letting Lady Jane say good-bye to Lady Lucia. We had to put Lucia down two months ago and were so caught up with being present for Lucy we didn’t think of inviting Jane to say good-bye. The day was dark enough, I didn’t think Jane would help us. My husband thought she and Victoria would just get in the way. I thought he was right. But afterwards, we both regretted our decision.
I plan to do things differently with Jane and Victoria.
I’m thankful for them, and for the ”do-over”s in life.
We are alive, we can try again.
And while we work on how we would do it differently we must be excessively gentle with ourselves.
And find friends for the journey.
Would you be up to share any regrets with us?
Tags: family, pain, spiritual growth, vulnerability
Posted in aging, lament, pain, vulnerability | Comments (28)
Who do I look like? Listening to The Hunger Games
March 28th, 2012 by Jonalyn
My mom hung a little cream placard with blue letters in our kitchen.
Growing up I’d read it often,
“You are who you are when no one is looking.”
It plagued me with confusion about who I really was. The me in private?
or the me in public?
In the movie, Hunger Games, Katniss Everdeen hears Peeta Mellark explain that he doesn’t want the games, even the killing he may do to change who he is.
“I don’t want them to change me in there. Turn me into something I’m not . . . If I’m going to die I want to still be me.”
So who is the protagonist, Katniss? The girl dressed for the Hunger Games’ crow, or the girl at home with Prim? I’m sure The Hunger Games series plans to iron this question out.
We all dress up for the show.
We all have different “me’s”.
Who is the real you? Is it the one at work or the one at home? Or is it the you behind closed doors in solitude? Is this as fair to extroverts as it is to introverts? How much of ourselves do we let hang out and how much do we comb into a presentable appearance?
Effie Trinket and Katniss Everdeen in The Hunger Games Photo credit: Murray Close
And is it fake to do that combing work? Or is it a way to honor others?
Was Katniss fake in her flaming evening gown? Or was it true of her? As true as her cotton blue gown?
My artist friend from Laguna Beach, the one I wrote about last time (Red-Blooded Women), has often said women don’t get dressed up for men as much as they get dressed up for each other. He’s told me women are always trying to out-compete others in how they look. I realized he’s gathered his facts from women, a few who do, in fact, dress to impress, contrast and outshine other women.
A majority of my friends dress up for other women but not to compete with them. We dress to honor. Like Katniss in her mother’s blue dress honors something sobering and difficult – the reaping.
We wear a dry-clean only skirt to a wedding to honor someone’s marriage. We wear our hair flat-ironed and pinned up into a French twist because we honor a birthday. We pull on several fishnet stockings until we get one without a snag because we honor girl’s night out.
We get dressed up to show others we care, sometimes.
Sometimes our public face and dress code is as hindering and false as Effie Trinket’s ensemble in The Hunger Games.
Take our hair for instance, most my friends with curly hair don’t like and therefore straighten. One told me it was because a study had shown guys prefer straight hair to curly. She sighted this “study” as evidence “Curly vs. Staight: Which Do Men Prefer?” in which the blogger proves that her straight look gets more hits at the singles dating site than curly.
The blogger, Naturally Curly, does go on to date those who’ve chosen her profile wearing the opposite hair-do of the profile pic. Most of the dates don’t seem to care, but Naturally Curly does let it slip that she’s not comfortable with frizz.
As a woman who drew her husband because of her curly hair I have long wanted to comment to Naturally Curly’s blog.
Once I seriously straightened my hair to surprise Dale after a long business trip abroad. On the way to the airport I received more attention/harassment, whistling, comments, etc. And my hair was not even really straight, it looked more like the hair on Jenna Jameson in this photo, wavy and tousled. The fact that Jameson is a famous porn star is exactly the point I’d like to make.
Photo credit: kingdavidhogan.com/jenna-jameson-attacks-dana-white/
When I met my husband at the airport he failed to even recognize me. He nearly walked by me. My theory, my hair straight looks more like a porn star’s Aqua-Netted masterpiece, more like the up-dos in the Capitol of Panem . . . than me. Dale told me afterwards he noticed the wavy haired me and thought, “Oh, there’s an attractive woman, but where’s my attractive woman?”
It was his second take that he realized the face was still mine.
My theory: women who “do” their hair to look substantially different than their natural look can accidentally ape the porn look, the look that says, “I’m here to be consumed by your eyes.” Of course, our hair can look naturally tousled, but how much more honest this look is after a day of gardening, painting or biking.
That disgust of the consumption of her death is why Katniss mocked Cinna’s mandate to “Make her beautiful”, she knew it could hide who she was and what she was about to be forced to do.
Cinna went beyond beauty to, “Make an impression.”
Perhaps that’s a good guide. To dress up to make an impression, but not to conceal the soul within. Another theory of mine is that the more we try to imitate another person’s look, the more bland we become. But, the more we look and act as we were created to be, the way God made us to be, the more one-of-a-kind unique we become. The more we’re the “only person” like us in the universe.
Can we make an impression without disguising ourselves? Can we look like . . . ourselves?
The look of most hairstyles today are usually heavily configured sorts of things, more like Effie Trinket than Katniss Everdeen, except, of course, in places where women do things. I mean doing things other than consuming.
When your day consists of eating, driving and shopping, you don’t have to create. Creating puts hair in proper perspective, as well as our entire appearance.
After spending the last week in Los Angeles awaiting my new nephew’s birth and then flying home yesterday to Denver, I was immediately struck by the naturalness of people’s hair out here.
Not everyone, but more women in Colorado let their hair fly out, naturally wavy or puffy, flat or curly. Women here have things to do beyond their hair. And in the end, I feel they’re letting me see the realness in who they were originally born to be.
And it’s an honor to see them.
For those women who are slowly learning to put the flat iron down and embrace their waves or curls or frizzy bigness, I salute you. You haven’t let the games change who you are.
Katniss burying Rue with beauty and dignity - her hair is only a frame to what she is about
Tags: beauty, body, envy, prejudice, reviews, vulnerability
Posted in beauty, Hunger Games, vulnerability | Comments (28)
Red-Blooded Women*
March 21st, 2012 by Jonalyn
*simultaneously posted at Christianity Today’s blog for women, Her-meneutics.
Elizabeth Taylor in Butterfield 8
I watched Butterfield 8 with my husband last weekend. Elizabeth Taylor won an Oscar for her role as the sexually abused and sexually addicted call girl that falls in love. Her story is precisely what I’ve heard on the road from girls as young as 12. Sexual abuse found them early and turned them into women who seem to be all “sex and devil-may-care” (Butterfield 8).
But sexually abused women are not the only ones who end up interested in sex.
Photo credit: Steve Baccon
A long-time playboy and artist of Laguna Beach once calmly told me, “Women are just as sexually dominant as men,” he paused, “Maybe even more.”
His opinion is not an anomaly, though it may strike you as odd. Five hundred years ago, these words could have been uttered by a priest.
In the Middle Ages, priests informed the laity that women were naturally more lustful, insatiable, and visually stimulated. Can you imagine that? Women were the horny ones. Men, the celibate priests taught, were the naturally spiritual and rational ones.
How times have changed. In our Christian subculture men are the visually stimulated, carnal ones. “Women give sex to get love” (Every Woman’s Battle). Shaunti and Jeff Feldhahn explain in For Men Only, “Your Body (no matter how much of a stud you are) does not by itself turn on her body” (P. 133).
Personally I beg to disagree.
A man’s body can turn a woman on… ask any woman about how she feels in Abercrombie and Fitch stores. Or ask the bride in Song of Solomon,
Like an apple tree among the trees of the forest,
So is my beloved among the young men.
In his shade I took great delight and sat down,
And his fruit was sweet to my taste (1:3).
Okay, you might say, but once the honeymoon is over and you’ve got kids and sleep deprivation? No woman sustains this kind of attraction to sex, not longterm. That’s why Playboy sells more than Playgirl. That’s why men talk about struggles with porn and women don’t.
Well, I have news for you.
The internet filter review from ChristianityToday.com documents 70% of women keep their cyber activities secret.
But, 1 of 3 visitors to all adult web sites are women. (source)
Women’s attraction to the male body is a widely experienced but little publicized reality. Crystal Renaud, founder of Dirty Girls Ministries shared in a New York Times interview last May on her own porn addiction, at age 10. She founded DGM to help women like her. Still skeptical? Just notice the posters on tween’s bedroom walls or the way they gush over Justin Bieber or the Jonas Brothers, not simply their music, but their bodies.
Several years ago, when I read, “The Naked Truth about Woman‘s Lust”, I felt, for the first time, like someone was finally talking about what I have experienced.
Lust, according to Jesus, is not merely noticing or feeling attracted to another man (or woman’s) body. Feeling that magnetic pull of interest and amazement is not the same as imaginatively stripping someone naked and wanting them in bed.
Lust is the desire to have sex with someone you have not married (Matthew 5:27-29, looking on another human with a desire to commit adultery with them in your mind).
I am one of those women who have found myself struggling with lust. I am not addicted to pornography, but I am distracted to lust after handsome (can’t I say “hot”?) men.
When a beautiful man or woman passes me and my husband on the street or monopolizes our time after a speaking event we both code awareness to each other. We use our eyes to say, “Yes, this is a beautiful body in front of me, but no worries. My appetite has been cultivated for you.”
This discipline didn’t start so easily.
I’ve learned to want my husband’s frame, his uniqueness. I’ve learned to seek that look, to develop a taste for his body and soul.
But I still notice beauty, in men.
Talking about the beautiful people around us allows my husband and I to both safely confess and grow into desiring each other. It also means our temptations are never faced alone.
Marne C. Ferree, a pioneering missionary for women’s sexual addiction recover, licensed family and marriage therapist and former sexual addict explains “The most important thing you can do if you’re struggling with sexual addiction is tell someone.” (Interview, IVPress, March 2010).
Years ago, after harboring fear and deeply buried shame for myself I finally realized I needed help, too. I confessed to my husband. Perhaps it seems small, but what I shared I knew was a growing fire; I was struggling with lust over a close friend of ours.
My husband responded, “Would you like to pursue counseling about it? Would you like us to stop communication with him? What can I do to help?”
This is a perfect response, but then, I’ve married a good man.
But even this good, handsome man doesn’t mean lust is a non-issue for me.
Want more? Female sexual addiction begins with lust. I found help from applying the cry of the tax collector “Lord, have mercy on me, a sinner” (Luke 18:13). Read how to work through this spiritual practice of inviting Jesus’ mercy into lust here Lust Alive and Well Among Women.
Tags: body, feminism, marriage, sex
Posted in love, sex, vulnerability | Comments (12)
Rich Ladies: When Women Back a Man’s Ministry
March 14th, 2012 by Jonalyn
I know men who proclaim in Sunday services words sharpened by a one-woman audience at home. Pastors around the country, relying on the women in their lives to help them. Personally, I count it a good thing when a man relies on a woman. I’m toe-deep in a book on this The Resignation of Eve: What if Adam’s Rib is no longer Willing to be the Church’s Backbone (BarnaBooks, 2012)
Depending on who you are, you may need more encouragement to rely on a women. Or you might be a woman who needs encouragement to rely on a man.
We all open doors for each other.
In the first pages of Ruby Slippers I wrote,
This book is dedicated to the men who opened doors for me.
My grandfather who opened Grace.
My father who opened Truth.
My husband, Dale,
who propped both doors open
so we might run through them together.
Dale has been holding and propping doors for over ten years. He taught me to take myself seriously.
I tweeted this, my #FeministEureka moment this week “When my husband asked me to swap domesticity for starting a non-profit with him Soulation.org”
I used to labor, unsuccessfully, over cheap steaks and slow-cooking vegetables to serve him up a warm meal (because that’s what women do when they love their men, right?) when Dale wanted to take me out to eat so we could talk, so I wouldn’t be diluted with the Betty Draper pattern I’d bought. Slowly my grip on my apron loosened and I went out and bought speaking clothes.
I learned to buy make-up and get my hair cut so I stood out for the right reasons.
Now I have some sweet little speaking outfits, and some realistic aprons (the kind you can wipe your hands on) because a man gave me more than half a chance.
Dale is a husband that backs up my ministry.
And I back our ministry, but not in the conventional sense. I garner more speaking engagements, more writing opportunities, and more blog readers. But I funnel them back into Soulation where Dale also speaks, writes and blogs. Dale still insists on sharing the spotlight, even if he’s pushed into the shadows a bit more. Last week he observed that, “RubySlippers is the jewel of the Soulation crown, *** readers a day.” There was no malice, no envy in his tone.
Made me realize what he’s given up in propping the door open.
This weekend, after a near death experience (crazy driver!) I felt a stirring of the Spirit. I prayed aloud and listened aloud (for more on this spiritual practice ask and I’ll blog about it). I sensed an idea from the heavens, rooted in the rood that drives us Jesus-followers forward.
I sensed God say,
“Give Dale a month, an entire month where you are Mom with a capital “M.” Give him the space to hammer out his next book, the memoir on spiritual abuse. Prop open a door for him and let me take care of you and your career.”
Prop open a door for Dale.
I know there are women who propped open doors for greater men than my husband.
A triumvirate of females propped the ministry doors for Jesus of Nazareth. They opened the portals with the only collateral a woman had in those ancient Roman days. They used their inheritance to fund his wandering, miraculous, prophetic ways. These women funded the Son of God.
I wonder what Chuza, the manager of Herod’s household thought of it, his wife such a prominent donor in Jesus’ non-profit.
I wonder what Magdalene’s family thought, another cultish dark dream? to fund a homeless man who spoke so fearlessly. He’d probably wind up killed.
I wonder about Susanna.
But we have it in Luke, “Also some women, who had been cured of evil spirits and diseases: Mary (called Magdalene) from whom seven demons had come out; Johanna the wife of Chuza, the manager of Herod’s household; Susanna; and many others. These women were helping support him out of their means” (Luke 8:2-4)
I want to know about the many others. A ragamuffin bunch, unclean by the Jewish God’s standards. Healed of dirty things, vulnerable, worse for wear, probably loopy, still socially tainted . . . but powerful.
They put their money on the right guy.
These women’s 401ks and bonds were liquified into the coins that filled Judas’ purse, the green stuff that bought the Passover meal and food to fill the bellies of the crowd that surged into Peter’s home in Capernaum (Mark 2:1).
Photo credit: imperiumarts.com/roman.html
Rich ladies still run things.
I may not be rolling in millions, but I’m rich in organization and time management. I can manage my work and Finn for a month so Dale can rush through a door I wedge open.
8-5, Monday through Friday, can I do it? can I be Mother?
I actually believe I’ll enjoy it.
For one month.
Let’s see what this rich lady can do.
Tags: feminism, loving Jesus, marriage, ruby slippers, writing/speaking
Posted in Christian feminism, family, gender roles, love, motherhood, vulnerability | Comments (18)
Fight Fair: How to Argue Without Destroying Others (and Yourself)
March 7th, 2012 by Jonalyn
My parent’s celebrated their 34th wedding anniversary last weekend with a trip to Disneyland. I got a text of my mother riding Space Mountain with my tall father beside her. They were smiling in glee.
Happy 34th Anniversary, Mom and Dad!
I feel their faithfulness to each other remains a diamond-gift to their four children.
When I got married over 10 years ago Dale and I rode a convertible Prowler (thanks, Dad) down Pacific Coast Highway, my veil whipping in the wind. At one red light a van of guys yelled porno suggestions to us.
I had no idea what they were saying, Dale was a little more aware. At the next red light a rough, big dude on a Harley gurgled his beast past our car and then slowly backed to level next to me. I felt my heart go tight. What would he say?
He just stared through his dark lenses.
“Communication,” he roared.
Green light and he was gone.
We laughed and laughed in relief.
Growing up I saw how communication was practiced between my parents, seemed pretty darn smooth.
Later, I learned they did argue, but not in front of us. Advice popular among my parents suggested not fighting in front of the kids as it disturbs their confidence that the marriage is safe. Some disagree now, as Caryn Rivadeniera explains in Duke it Out for Them: Why Parents Need to See Their Parents Fight, I tend to agree with Rivadeniera. But regardless, we could all use some tips on fighting fairly in public or private.
Some colleagues visited us in Steamboat last week, they shared about how one marital counselor told them, “The issue isn’t if you’re going to fight. All couples fight. I want to teach you how to fight fair.”
You can’t eliminate fighting from relationship, that is unless you want to erase yourself. But you can argue, fight, even quarrel while practicing all the fruit of God’s spirit (love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness, faithfulness and self-control Gal 5:22).
For all those wanting to argue better, a few fighting-fair rules.
The Basic Formula
You want to share something, change something, disagree. Begin with this basic formula, “I feel A because of B” where A = feeling word and B = state of affairs as best you see them.
There are lots of ways to get this seemingly simple statement wrong. “A” must be an emotion, not “I feel like you’re stupid because you didn’t do this right” or “I feel like you’re annoying,” or “I feel like you’re an idiot.” Feeling someone is an idiot is not an emotion. Instead you can say, “I feel ignored because the counter has these crumbs on it.” B must be something you state about the world and not transmogrify into an accusation, such as “I feel ignored because YOU didn’t clean the counter.” Can you hear the blame?
Give it a whirl. What do you need to fight over? Approach with the basic formula, approach with a tone of revealing yourself not accusing them. If you’re unsure, try out a few in the comments and I’ll walk you through.
Some successful formulas I’ve used, “I feel disrespected (or bitter or embarrassed, or like a bird chirping on a twig all alone–metaphors are always fun) when I find I’m repeating the same sentence three times to you” not “I feel you’re ignoring me” or “I feel like you’re a jerk.” You can say, “I feel ignored, dissatisfied, confused….” etc.
Photo credit: zastavki.com
Trouble-shooting
The phrase, “I feel blamed,” should be used often and liberally whenever the basic formula is flouted or manipulated.
It’s a good phrase to use anytime you’re really trying to fight fair.
Example:
J: “I feel like I’m doing all the work around here because you’re just sitting and reading the paper.”
D: “I feel blamed.”
J: “GRRRRRR! Okay, I feel very very very exhausted because you’re not doing anything.”
D: “I feel blamed.”
J: “I feel exhausted” at this point I was unable to get to “B”.
D: “I’m sorry you feel exhausted, what can I do?”
J: (spinning rolodex of possibilities) “Could you take Finn for a few hours?”
D: “I don’t think I can take him that long, I’m wiped, too.”
J: “Well, I have a post I have to write. Could you give me some time to work on it?”
D: “How much time do you want?”
J: “Two hours.”
D: “I can give you one hour right now.”
J: “I’ll take it.”
Please note this is not a real conversation, okay, maybe it is.
Red Light
The Basic Formula works well IF you are working with someone who respects and loves you. Proverbs 25 talks about well-spoken words being greeted by the wise with warm eyes. The wise want to know your feelings, they’ll greet them as something beautiful (like apples in silver or a gold earrings on a lovely woman) if you can share without blaming. Proverbs 26 talks about how a fool responds to rebuke; they cannot handle the truth. You’ll know a fool by how they respond to your emotions.
The basic formula does not work with fools and therefore, should not be used.
I have, unhappily, been in relationships with fools. When I share, “I feel disrespected when you say I look fat” and the response is, “Well, what do you want me to do about it?” with a tone of challenge and annoyance.
Notice the red light, a train is coming down the bend. Stop. This person is immature, a fool, unable to handle honest sharing and emotions. You can say, “I’d like an apology.” But they may very well say, “Well, I didn’t say anything wrong, you are fat.” etc etc.
At this point you can take a mental post-it, write “fool” on it and stick it on their head (metaphorically, speaking). Remember this label. You cannot trust this person with your feelings. Change the subject or leave the room. That said, relationships require mutual love and respect for each other’s feelings and vulnerabilities (not just respect for the guy and love for the girl, Are Women Natural Lovers? for more).
Photo credit: gaildavisart.blogspot.com
Like apples of gold in settings of silver
Is a word spoken in right circumstances.
Proverbs 25:11
Green Light
If you work on the Basic Formula (and I mean work on it for YEARS), you’ll find a blossoming of safety in your home. You will be able to hold onto yourself and your feelings while others do not agree. Your spouse’s refusal to do as you ask will not feel like a tactical loss. You will find you can state your feelings, feel heard and respected and still be disagreed with. Disagreement is actually evidence that you are safe, that you are not punishing. Ask yourself beforehand, “If he says no, what will I do?”
Dale and I parsed out chores today (a good Equally Shared Parenting exercise) and he stoutly refused to clean the nooks and crannies of the kitchen counter tops as often as I’d like. His easy disagreement and my own calmness felt like cool lemonade on a hot day. The disagreement without unkindness, the clarity of our differences without disgust.
It had all the honesty and reality of fighting fair.
Finn was taking notes, I could tell.
Tags: friendship, marriage, spiritual growth
Posted in family, love | Comments (12)
Poor Start for Friends
February 29th, 2012 by Jonalyn
When I first moved to Virginia I knew I needed friends. It was easy to find girls like me.
Photo credit: pamsclipart.com
That’s a rock solid foundation for a friendship: similar interests.
I found a friend, call her Debbie, who loved French class and good tea, talking theology and breaking out of the box in loving Jesus. She cared about organization (have I mentioned that I’m really organized?) and was a true servant.
Seriously, she was always available for me. I cried in her dorm room when I found out some horrible news and I felt comfortable enough to ask for help with my laundry when I was in a pinch.
She was faithful, too. She’d stand up for me and stuck by me when a few other friends badmouthed me.
Sounds like a perfect friend, doesn’t it?
Just when everything seemed to be going peachy, when I would talk to others about how great and stable, faithful and true Debbie was to me, her younger sister came to UVA.
I met and befriended her because I felt a loyally to her, through my friendship to Debbie.
Surprisingly, this angered Debbie. You can hypothesize all you want, you can call it jealousy or possessiveness. You can say I was short-sighted to expect to be friends with both sisters.
Regardless, Debbie confronted and turned on me in a verbal attack I’m glad I’ve mostly forgotten. The words were searing, they took advantage of weaknesses I had revealed and cut me off.
When I prayed and thought and in the end asked for another audience with her, it was as if I was talking to another person. She even mocked me for asking for another chance.
Debbie used our closeness to be cruel. She finished our conversation with warning me away from her sister and set me up for months and months of coldness. Anytime I tried to be warm she cut me off with sarcasm or belittling remarks.
About this time I began analyzing what I thought we had as a friendship.
Was it all my fault?
Could I do something to make things better?
Photo credit: static.freepik.com
But years later I see what was wrong. As Virginia Woolf says, “Truth had run through my fingers. Every drop had escaped.”
I didn’t realize the truth of two major things.
First, Debbie was quick to meet any need I had, but she couldn’t share a need of her own. She never let me help her. I can’t even imagine her crying on my shoulder or letting me do her laundry. She was needless. This was the first lie in our friendship. Now, I believe Debbie thought other people would judge her if she showed her needs. She, like all of us, believed everyone was judging her as much as she was judging them. In looking back I can see that any time I let her help me, she ended up feeling superior, stronger, more “together”. There is nothing quite so poisonous to a friendship as taking the moral high road.
Every time.
Debbie could not admit to failing, to being wrong, to needing from me. But, ironically she did need something, she needed me to need her.
Second, Debbie disagreed with the cardinal rule for all my relationships: there is never a good reason to be unkind. Dale taught me that years later, but looking back I can see that it is a principle grounded in the heart of everything good about love. Debbie believed my friendship with her younger sister warranted cruelty. To date she remains one of the most unkind women I’ve been so close to.
Her about-face in how she treated me scared me because I felt as if I was involved with someone who had two personalities. It shocked and sent me on a looping road of what I had done to cause this.
But if there really is never a good reason to be unkind, then I can still ask and expect kindness even if I’ve made a mistake.
Looking back it would be easy to think of the years of being Debbie’s friend as a waste, as time lost with someone I am no longer close to.
But, I feel both sadness and gratitude. Sadness over Debbie and her current friendships (I know she continues to have trouble being close to anyone). Gratitude to God, for working a deeper awareness of love and how to build friendships. Love rejoices in the truth, as Paul says in 1 Corinthians 13. And I didn’t let the truth about Debbie come into my belief in how great she was.
I know I need to find women who really rejoice in the truth . . . about themselves. I need . . .
1- Friends who will let me help them as well as who will help me.
2- Friends who follow their unkindness with humility and apology.
3- Friends who don’t secretly believe they are better than me. Friends who I feel lucky to be close to and who count themselves lucky to hang out with me.
Good friendships will be natural in one way and hard work in another. But the naturalness will grow and the hard work will feel like a highway going somewhere, not a looping track.
Virginia Woolf described that naturalness well at a dinner party where she beautifully writes about the rich yellow flame of good conversation. “No need to hurry. No need to sparkle. No need to be anybody but oneself.”
What poor foundations have you found in your friendships? Will you share with us so we can build stronger friends for the future?
Originally posted at LetMeBeMe.org February 21.
Tags: friendship, pain
Posted in love, pain | Comments (4)
