What they don't know

When I was in high school drama, I learned an important lesson: don't let the audience know you messed up, and they may not notice.  Don't let them know you're nervous and they'll assume you're a pro.  Once you break that wall and show you're vulnerability, there's no going back.

So when you're meeting people in your new town, and maybe you haven't gotten a job yet or have anything newsworthy going on, don't talk about that.  When the inevitable question comes up, "So what do you do?" don't bury yourself under your spouse's job or belittle your circumstances.  Be proud of what you used to do, say what you want to do.  Be confident!  No one is going to ask probing questions about your job status or choice to follow someone you love (and if they do, they are an ass and you don't need them.)

You're an adult, and life changes.  Be the confident person you were before you may have been shaken up by this move.  It's just one more change life throws at you, except you're catching that ball while running.

You've got nothing to be ashamed of.

No one is "just" a wife.

You may not be making your own money for a while, but that doesn't make you less of a citizen.

Doing something crazy and new? Own it.  Do you think people cared about the fact that my business was really fledgling and I wasn't sure if it was a good idea?  No, they were interested in what the business was and how I got it started.

Find something you're proud of and don't belittle it by pretending you aren't proud.

I hope anyone who is currently in the anticipation stage of moving for a spouse's job is going alright, and it's ok if you aren't doing alright.  It's a weird time, and you'll have to find your way of dealing. Just know there's people that understand, and I'm one you can talk to if you need to vent.  Click on the "Contact Me" button, and dish away.

Bathroom selfie!

This is real, and it will change.

Role Models: Lizard Lady sends me to college

In this series of posts, I'll be posting about people who've given me good advice and set me on the track to where I am now. I'll be using pseudonyms and pictures that describe them, but it'll be pretty much anonymous. You'll know who you are!


My senior year, I was pretty busy with drama club, journalism and songwriting, but otherwise I was a ne'er-do-well, padding my semesters with lots of "teacher's aide" hours that served as excuses for me to escape campus for lunch and guitar store hangouts.  My Fall semester, I got pulled out of my anatomy class* by my English teacher.  She and said anatomy teacher wanted to nominate me for the Earthwatch Student Challenge Awards. This was ostensibly a program to convince artsy kids that science wasn't scary, and involved a trip to some nature-y place to work with a scientist.  I was flattered that they picked me, but waited til the last minute to write an essay.  A few weeks later I learned I'd gotten in, and would be flown to Arizona for three weeks.  It would be the summer after graduation, so I'd already be getting ready to spend major time away from my family.   I was excited about traveling, but still not sold on science**.

Kiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiids

Two people have asked me (in just the last three days) if I'm going to have children.  Granted, one was a man from Yemen and one was a nurse, but WTF, mates?  For the latter, I'd gone in for a non-baby prescription refill and a problem with my toenail.  Babies? What?

Having children is something I've thought of. A lot.  I've read lots of books. I read blogs.  I talk to people my age and older who are parents.  I'm not shying away from the subject.  J and I talked about having kids before we decided to get married, and one of the things that attracted me to him was that he would make a really good father*.

My doctor asked me if I was thinking about having kids, and I told her I had an IUD that was good for another three years.  She said, "Well that could be taken out today!" And I replied, "BUT IT'S GOOD FOR FIVE YEARS AND THAT'S WHY I HAD IT PAINFULLY THRUST INTO MY UTERUS."  Ok, I did not all-caps at her, but I was flustered. I gave her my reasons why it's not something I personally wanted to do yet, reasoned arguments about pursuing my interests, spending time with my spouse and keeping my body mine.**  Her response and tone made me gag a little:

"Well, that's just the educated person talking".

Let me remind readers that I work on a college campus and this was the campus clinic.  She went on to say that most parents never crack a book about it and do just fine.  I couldn't shake the feeling that she was on the "Just jump in!" bandwagon.  Regardless of my want for children? Our financial readiness? Lady, love doesn't keep anyone alive. Especially in this economy.  I usually really like this APN, but she sounded judgy and I kept expecting her to say, "You'll change your mind!" which is incredibly rude.  How do you know my mind better than me?  Or worse, what if I change my mind after I have a baby?  No one ever tells a woman who wants kids that she'll regret it one day, that she'll change her mind or that she's selfish. These are common slurs tossed at childfree women.  To pull a comment from Where are the child-free role-molels?"

When I was growing up people kept saying "you'll change your mind". I wonder how many folks ever tell reproduction-inspired young women that they might someday "change their minds".

When I was younger, I never said things like, "I will never have kids", because I realized that I was still turning into the woman I'd become.  Almost 30, I'm pretty sure I'm almost a finished entity. And I'm slowly becoming more interested in spending the rest of my life with J and only J.  If that's what we decide to do, you can bet that I'll be berated but no one will probably question his decision.

No Kidding: On being childfree and really liking kids
A typical dose of judgment in which I wonder if this person is really trying to convince herself.
Why is it selfish to be child-free?
A whole series parodying that selfish "bitch" who chose not to have children!
That really depressing NYTimes article about unhappy parents (does not apply to everyone but gives me pause)
9 Reasons to Have/13 to not

None of what I'm saying is to judge anyone for having kids.  I wish I had a drive to do it, and maybe I will later.  But if I don't, I'd like to live my life happily without anyone telling me what I'm missing.  I already get that from meat-eaters.  All. The. Time.  This subject has just been so front-and-center for me lately.  All my lady-blogs are blowing up with it, people I know, friend's parents. The only person who hasn't really bugged me is my mom***.

*I was shelving books in the Parenting & Childbirth section of my library at the time, so it's not as weird as it sounds.
**I am not saying a pregnant woman or mother does not have bodily autonomy. I am frightened of mother mortality and icky American birth practices/attitudes.
***Who was put on a 5-year grandbaby moratorium the day of my wedding. She has kept her promise.

The scale of opportunity

More blog-searching today (and somehow this is a productive day at work) and I found a "trailing spouse" blog, albeit an expat* one.  She doesn't like the term trailing spouse either**, but her blog is endlessly positive:

As a trailing spouse, identity can be a tough thing (because if you're like me, that last thing you want to be called is a "trailing spouse"). But if the career you had before isn't going to work out abroad (or you lose yours via a layoff like me), maybe there's something else you'd love to do and try. Maybe, in fact, this is your big opportunity for that something you used to put on hold. 

Chantal at One Big Yodel 

I don't want my opportunity, a positive thing, tinged with the fact that I only have it because it's the consolation prize for having no control***.  Here's my internalized misogyny (it's just popping up way too much this week) again, in that I can't see my worth if I didn't come to it myself, as if taking that opportunity is just backsliding into a dependent female role. I don't, however, feel this way when it comes to education.  If J was working and I was going back to school or taking classes in whatever field I settle on, that feels ok. But if it's to start an Etsy or make Halloween costumes (traditionally female pursuits) it's not.  See what I did there?  Thanks world.  You've made me a woman-hater.

How do I cleanse my mind of these tendencies?  I feel fucked all-around.  And I haven't even touched upon the stink of privilege in all this.

*I'm more interested in domestic relocation.
**Yeah, I changed my title again, because no one's going to find this blog otherwise.
***I'm speaking for myself, not Chantal.  She has her shit together.

Guest Post: Freeze-dried

Freeze-Dried is a female grad student on-her-way-out-of-the-twenties. She's into SF/F, food, hugs and some (albeit very little) exercise. She is Mostly Harmless and can be reached at frozendry.at.gmail.com.

Dear A.b.,

Ever since you’ve invited me to do a guest post in this space, I’ve been wondering about what I can say as a traveling spouse that you haven’t already – incredibly honestly and eloquently – addressed.  And I’m convinced that I can’t do an abstract idea-post related to being a traveling spouse*. My solution, forgive my indulgence, is to focus on me.

A couple of years ago, I decided to follow my partner, (not just because it is the right thing to do**), but because I wanted to***. At the time, although I was in a job that I thoroughly enjoyed, I hadn’t really begun to think of it as a career. After an initial wave of uncomfortable dependence (that passed with support from the spouse), I eventually maneuvered my way into my first unplanned “home-maker” year. I learnt to cook. I also learnt how not to trip over one’s laundry, and how to fold clothes (no, it is an ancient art, really) and sometime down that road, found out that I really wanted to find a career in the academe.

But more recently - sometime over the Christmas break, actually - I discovered that a lot of who I am has come to be built around one relationship. To most people that meet me now, I’m a spouse before I’m a person, much more in fact than P is. This is significantly different from our pre-travelling situation. Back then (it does feel like ages ago), I was an individual / a woman before anything else. I suspect a lot of this difference has to do with having chosen a dependent life.

Between commuting to work, hanging out with P and getting stuff done for school, for want of both time and interest, I do very little else. Consequently, new people meet me as a role rather than as a person. On the other hand, P, given the nature of his job and of our situation still has a more independent life than me. For instance, he meets people at his workplace as a so-and-so-specialist and the dynamics of a job allow for development of (a certain kind of) familiarity, while grad school can be very immersive and isolating.

Anyway, people meet P as an individual / a man before meeting him as a spouse.

[Okay, now is a good time for that interjection: P works his job (although he’d rather be pursuing his art), so that we can have the life that we do. For this, he has my highest respect. I must clarify that this post should in no way suggest that he is insensitive or otherwise oblivious to my concerns.]

Meet my freaking-the-fuck-out moment: In my own mind, I have become a spouse who is incidentally, doing other things.

Self, meet Insecurity. Insecurity, meet Self.

For me, this realization has been attended by some seriously debilitating angst, helplessness, and – surprise, surprise, possessiveness – the kind that has, in the past, made me run in the opposite direction. Coming to terms with this idea (that despite all the things I do, even I think of myself as a spouse first) hasn’t been easy. It means un-learning some things and re-learning some others. It means walking out of this comfort zone of a secure and familiar identity (that I didn't even realize I was building) and learning to be at home with the unknown. And perhaps most scarily, it means having to do this – being a traveling spouse – without losing myself.

A dear friend (who re-appeared quite of the blue to buoy me through this very personal crisis) said, “Being possessive is okay. But what matters is what you do when they’re around and what you do with yourself when they are not.” All suggestiveness aside, that’s my new goal. Yes, with the traveling spouse deal as it is, I don’t necessarily know how, if at all, I can have a completely independent identity without going back to a non-nomadic lifestyle. Hell, I don’t even know how I’m going to work at this.

But, I’m determined to atleast try.

Footnotes: 

*’cause almost everything about being one is so personal, init?

**Which is an expectation where I come from

*** A complete distrust of long-distance relationships may also have had something to do with this decision.

(Freeze-dried)