Showing posts with label confidence. Show all posts
Showing posts with label confidence. Show all posts

Sunday, November 10, 2019

Diabetes & Pregnancy: The 2nd Trimester

For my account of managing my diabetes during my first trimester (0-13 weeks of pregnancy), visit this blog post.

*Disclaimer: These posts are not meant to give medical advice. I'm not a doctor. I'm merely recounting my personal experience managing Type 1/LADA during my pregnancy - and everyone's diabetes and everyone's pregnancy is different.

**

I started out the 2nd trimester (14-28 weeks pregnant) with an incredible A1C of 5.1% - likely due, at least in part, to how many low blood sugars I was having at the end of my 1st trimester. Around 14-15 weeks pregnant, I was taking 18 total units of insulin a day: 6 u. of Levemir (my basal insulin) in the morning + 4 u. at bedtime, and 2 u. mealtime insulin with breakfast, 3 u. with lunch, and 3 u. with dinner. This was probably too much, and the beginning of my 2nd trimester still saw several instances hypoglycemia. Even with blood sugars lower than 55, I rarely felt symptoms. If I felt anything, it was only being a bit warm, or feeling irritation at how difficult it was for me to poke a straw into a juice box. Thankfully, my CGM (continuous glucose monitor) continued to be pretty accurate, now that I was wearing it on my arm rather than on my abdomen, and I could (usually) count on it to alert me when I was going low.

Also thankfully, most of my low sugars were now happening during the day instead of overnight. I didn't mind these as much - they were typically 2-4 hours after eating a meal or snack, and about when I would/should be eating another meal or snack anyway. I was also more likely to notice falling blood sugar before it got low enough to trigger the urgent low alert on my CGM, since I was awake and looked at my CGM often. If I saw I was at 72 and still trending downward, I could just adjust when I planned to eat next, or how many carbs I planned to eat, to avoid having to treat with candy or juice.

Still, just because daytime hypoglycemia is easier to deal with doesn't mean it wasn't a nuisance at times - like around 16 weeks, when I saw blood sugars below 65 six times, sometimes more than once in a single day. At 16w3d, I had blood sugar that stayed stubbornly in the 50s-60s for nearly three hours, despite eating candy, yogurt, pasta, and more candy. And the next day, my CGM urgent low alert went off another three times: once overnight (at 4:30 am), once three hours after breakfast (at 10:30 am), and once 1.5 hours after dinner (at 7:30 pm). These were not particularly unbalanced meals either, that might have caused a post-meal sugar crash. I tried not only to eat the recommended 50-60 g. of carbs with every meal, but also to balance those with protein, fiber, and fats.

Like I had done before in the 1st trimester, I started decreasing my mealtime insulin doses without express permission from my doctors, making small adjustments as I needed to in order to get through the day. If I was already below 70 before eating a meal, for example, I might take only 2 u. of insulin with my meal instead of 3 u. But even those adjustments weren't always enough, and MFM (maternal fetal medicine, the doctors and nurses who were helping me manage my blood sugar while pregnant) suggested I decrease my morning Levemir by one unit. A week later (at 17 weeks), they extended that suggestion to my nighttime Levemir as well. For the next several weeks, I took 5 u. in the morning and 3 u. at night. Even with those changes, I still had to occasionally take only 2 u. with lunch or dinner; on such days, my total insulin was therefore down to only 15 u.

During the four weeks from 17-20 weeks pregnant, I had blood sugars under 65 twelve times, for an average of three times a week. However, around 19.5 weeks, something else started to happen - even though I was still having occasional daytime lows, I was also having some daytime highs as well. I saw numbers in the 140s-150s more regularly after breakfast, and occasional blood sugars in the 140s or even as high as 180 after dinner. For a non-pregnant diabetic, those numbers would still be considered pretty good, but pregnancy blood sugar targets are <120 two hours after eating, so at the end of 20 weeks, MFM recommended I increase my breakfast insulin to 3 u. This helped, and between 21 and 22 weeks, I had fewer instances of higher glucose - but even more instances of low blood sugar. During those 2 weeks, there were 8 days when my blood sugar dipped below 65.

20 weeks marks the halfway point of a full-term pregnancy, and about when most pregnant people have their "anatomy scan" to make sure all the organs look normal and the baby is growing appropriately. Because of my diabetes, I was also given a fetal echocardiogram - a more detailed look at the baby's heart, to make sure it was pumping and working as intended, and that all chambers and major vessels were accounted for. My anatomy scan and fetal echo were at 21w2d, so that my husband could also be there.


A sonogram from my anatomy scan on September 3, 2019, when I was 21w2d pregnant.

Everything looked great - it was all good news! But that didn't stop me from starting to worry about what my baby's birth weight might be. One of the most well-known risks of a diabetic pregnancy is the risk of a "big baby," and even though I was trying my best to keep my blood sugar levels on target, there were certainly times (an hour here or there, while I waited for an insulin dose to catch up) when my baby was floating in an amniotic sac with high blood sugar. I would sometimes watch my CGM rise near or above 200 after eating - and even though by two hours after eating the number would be back on target (<120), and MFM only cared about that "two hours after" number, I still worried what that half-hour of high blood sugar might've done, before my mealtime insulin kicked in.

I actually had 3 ultrasounds during my 2nd trimester, and the first was at 16w2d, which showed my baby in the 64th percentile for size/weight. I also saw MFM at 17w4d, and my OB at 20w2d, for general check-ins without ultrasounds. They measured my fundal height for the first time at that 20-week appointment. This is a measurement of how high the top of the uterus is, which apparently correlates in cm to how many weeks along one's pregnancy is. I measured 23 cm - a little larger than expected for 20 weeks. Then at my anatomy scan ultrasound at 21w2d, my baby was measuring in the 85th percentile.

I was also starting to gain weight myself, at a rate of about one pound a week. Even though this is the recommended rate for the 2nd and 3rd trimesters, I worried that it was too much, and I would soon outpace this recommendation. I was averaging 2300-2400 calories a day - which was more than I wanted to eat, but when I was trying to make sure I was eating enough carbs and trying to avoid low blood sugars by balancing those carbs with proteins and fats, that amount of calories felt rather inevitable. (Weeks when I had several days of hypoglycemia saw that average raise even higher, to about 2600 calories/day, as I treated my low blood sugars with candy and snacks.)

My doctors, however, were miraculously not worried - not about my weight gain, and not about my baby's size (at least - not yet). They told me babies grow at different rates and it was still too early to tell if it would be a big baby at birth. I was surprised; I'd heard so many stories about doctors' concerns about the size of babies born to diabetics that I was sure that the "85th percentile" news would prompt lectures about dietary changes or insulin adjustments. Instead, they told me I was doing a good job with my blood sugars and that (barring any other complications), there would likely be no need to induce me before 39 weeks after all. (Originally, they'd told me most diabetics need to be induced between 37-38 weeks). They congratulated me on my blood sugar logs and gave me high-fives.

Then, at 23 weeks, the insulin resistance I'd been warned about finally started to hit. That week, I had zero instances of hypoglycemia under 65. It was the first time that I'd had an entire week without low blood sugar in 14 weeks - since my first appointment with MFM at 8.5 weeks pregnant, when I'd started taking mealtime insulin. More than that, I also saw several higher numbers after eating again: 130s after breakfast, 130s (and even a 161) after lunch, 130s-150s after dinner. Most were only slightly higher (and the 161 was because I'd forgotten to take my insulin at lunch that day), but then at the end of 23 weeks I finally saw a post-meal reading that truly gutted me: 208 two hours after dinner. Before when I'd seen a number that high, it had corrected itself before the two hour mark. Or it was high only on my CGM, and a check with my meter reassured me that my CGM was inaccurate and I wasn't actually that high after all. But this time, it was my meter that showed me at 208 - my CGM was inaccurate in the opposite direction, and thought I was only at 174.

Logically, I knew that one night with blood sugar above 200 wasn't going to hurt. It's not about perfection 100% of the time; it's the pattern of your readings and how often the baby (and your own body) is subject to high blood sugars that truly affects health complications. Still, seeing that number dashed my hopes that maybe having LADA instead of a "true" Type 1 meant I wouldn't see much insulin resistance after all. LADA probably delayed the insulin resistance a bit (the book Pregnancy with Type 1 Diabetes by Ginger Vieira warned that insulin resistance might begin around 16 weeks, which I'd passed 7 weeks earlier) - but in the end, diabetes is still diabetes, and even if my pancreas isn't as malfunctioning as others', it's still not functioning as it should be. It's easy for me to forget that sometimes.

In the last 5 weeks of my 2nd trimester, MFM increased my morning Levemir from 5 u. to 6 u. to 8 u., and my bedtime Levemir from 3 u. to 4 u. to 6 u. (and then, when 6 u. proved a bit too high, back down to 5 u.). My mealtime doses were also tweaked - my breakfast Novolog went from 3 u. to 4 u. to 5 u., lunch went from 3 u. down to 2 u., and dinner went from 3 u. to 4 u. With small adjustments being made nearly every week (or even multiple times a week), it started getting very difficult to keep track of what I was supposed to be taking when.

To put another way, I was taking a total of 17 u. of insulin each day at the start of 23 weeks, and a total of 25 u. of insulin by the end of 27 weeks. This was increased gradually at first - I was steady at 19 u. for two and a half weeks, for instance - but then at 26 weeks, MFM started adding more insulin in greater jumps. I had a week with fasting blood sugars consistently between 90-110 (when they're supposed to be under 90), and after that MFM just started piling on the changes (or so it felt to me).

In the past, they usually adjusted me by 1 unit at a time, and then waited a week or so to see if that would be enough - but on October 8 they had me increase my morning Levemir from 6 u. to 8 u., and on October 10, only two days later, they also asked me to increase my bedtime Levemir from 4 u. to 6 u. It solved my high fasting blood sugars (at 27 weeks I was back down to between 70-82 every day), but it also, unsurprisingly, caused a resurgence of hypoglycemia issues. I had 5 days of low blood sugar in the last two weeks of my 2nd trimester, and on the very last day, my CGM urgent low alert went off overnight (twice!) for the first time in 8 weeks. I had to treat hypoglycemia at 1 am - and again at 5 am - and then for the rest of the morning, I continued to struggle getting my blood sugars to stay up. At 7:30 am, before breakfast, I was at 61; by 10:30 am I was back down to 72 and having to eat a snack; and less than two hours later, I was at 62, requiring me to eat an early lunch. After that day, I convinced MFM to back down a little, scaling my bedtime Levemir back to 5 u.

On the plus side, I was able to eat fewer calories most days (those hypoglycemic days notwithstanding), now that I had more insulin resistance. For a few weeks, I was gloriously not worried about low blood sugars at all. My daily calories averaged between 2100-2200 from 23-27 weeks - which was not only more in line with how hungry I was/how much I actually wanted to eat, but also slowed down my weight gain a bit (and which I hoped might also help prevent my bigger-than-average baby from getting any bigger). Still, by the end of the 2nd trimester, I'd already gained 23 lbs. compared to my pre-pregnancy weight - and I had the entire 3rd trimester still to go.

At 24w2d I had another check-in with my OB. This time, my fundal height measured 24 cm - right on track to where I "should" be for how far along I was. For a few days, I worried less... But then at my third 2nd trimester ultrasound at 25w1d, my baby's estimated size/weight came back as being in the 92nd percentile, and all my anxieties and guilt about having a "big baby" resurfaced.

To be clear, I'm not trying to fat shame here. I have nothing against "big babies" in general. I wasn't even that concerned about the idea of having to deliver a larger-than-average baby, which is probably what most pregnant people are worried about when their baby is measuring large. It was just that I was worried I was responsible for making my baby bigger than they otherwise would be, due to the unavoidable fact of my diabetes. If I hadn't been diabetic, I wouldn't have thought much of it - I would've chalked up my baby's size to genetics or something, and looked forward to seeing all those cute rolls on my baby's arms and legs. But because of my diabetes, I was filled with mommy guilt that my baby's size was my fault. I worried I was giving my baby a difficult start to life, and a childhood potentially riddled with health problems, all because of the glucose they'd been exposed to in utero.

That same day I had my A1C tested for the first time since the end of the 1st trimester. Given how big my baby was measuring, how much weight it felt like I'd gained, and my recent insulin resistance, I thought it might be higher than my previous 5.1% result - but hopefully not too much higher. (After all, I was trying so hard to control everything and keep my blood sugars as low as was safely possible for me to do!)... So imagine my surprise when the result came back as 4.8%! All those hypoglycemic episodes had outweighed the few 200+ blood sugars I'd had after all, and my average blood sugars remained solidly in the standard non-diabetic range of 4.0-5.6%. It confused me, frankly. With an A1C like that, what more could I do than what I was already doing? And how could my baby's size be because of my diabetes? Maybe I wasn't at fault after all!

I had another ultrasound at the very beginning of my 3rd trimester (28w1d), which showed my baby now in the 96th percentile.

A 3D sonogram of my baby's face, from my ultrasound at 28w1d pregnant - the very beginning of my 3rd trimester.

My doctors seemed divided in opinion. On the one hand, they still congratulated me on my (mostly) excellent blood sugars (though they also seemed a bit more keen to point out the couple of times I'd gone high); on the other hand, they were non-committal about if my diabetes was influencing the size of my baby. One told me, "Whether it's because of your diabetes or not, making changes to your insulin probably won't make it better at this point. You're just going to have a big baby."

They also started talking about the possibility of an induction earlier than 39 weeks again, and how I wouldn't be able to manage my own diabetes during labor and delivery - I would have to be on an insulin drip so the doctors could control my blood sugars themselves. When I started to question whether I would really need to cede all control over my insulin to doctors who didn't even know me or my diabetes, I was told that if I wasn't on an insulin drip it would make the doctors "irritated" and "uncomfortable." As if my priority when I'm in the middle of childbirth should be being a model patient and doing whatever they tell me, instead of advocating for what I want and need based on what I know of my body and my diabetes. Uh, NO. I don't think so. If that's the person they're expecting me to be, they're about five years too late.

In fact, here's how much I'm NOT that person anymore: about halfway through my 2nd trimester, I decided to hire a doula - a childbirth coach/companion. I worried that doctors and nurses would see the word "diabetes" on my chart, make assumptions about my risk factors, and then make decision about how my labor and delivery would go based on those assumptions, without consulting me first. There were a lot of things I was concerned about - whether or not I'd be induced or require a c-section, whether I'd be allowed to move around or if I'd be connected to too many wires and machines (IVs, fetal monitors, etc.) to leave a hospital bed, and how much I would be allowed to manage my diabetes while in the hospital. I worried that if I was given insulin through an IV, I'd be given way more than I needed, and/or that if hospital staff were in charge of treating any hypoglycemia episodes that may occur, they would over-treat me and make my blood sugar skyrocket (like they did after my D&C last year, when the post-op nurse saw that my blood sugar was slightly below 70 and gave me a huge cup of apple juice to drink, which resulted in me having to deal with 300+ blood sugars for the rest of the day after I was discharged).

I knew I would feel more comfortable with someone in the room (besides my husband) who will help me advocate for myself, ask the questions I want to ask, make sure doctors explain their recommendations to me and keep lines of communication open, remind me what my options are, and emotionally support me through the whole process - whether I end up having a relatively normal labor and delivery, an emergency c-section, or somewhere in between. Based on several articles and books I read, it seemed like a doula was exactly what I wanted - and now that I'm already getting pushback from doctors when I bring up my preferences for and concerns about labor and delivery, I'm so happy that I made this decision to have a doula on my team.

In the end, I realize I probably won't have much of a choice on the insulin IV during labor and delivery - but if I agree to it, it won't be because it's what will make the doctors comfortable; it'll be because it's what makes me comfortable. My priorities are figuring out what's best for myself and for my baby - not what's best for my doctors. For them this is their day to day job; for me, it's an experience of a lifetime, one of the most important days of my life, which I'll remember forever. And when I look back on this experience, I want to remember feeling empowered - not coerced into medical procedures or protocols I wasn't comfortable with and didn't need to do.

There's one last thing I want to talk about regarding my diabetes during this trimester - and that's to talk about the effort it takes to manage a chronic illness. I did already explain this in my last post about diabetes, but I don't complain often (except in blog posts I create specifically to complain, like this one), so please bear with me if I repeat myself a bit. :)

Near the beginning of my 2nd trimester, I switched from using Fiasp brand mealtime insulin (the last of the free sample pens my endocrinologist gave me before I was pregnant) to Novolog (the brand my insurance covered with my new mealtime insulin prescription, which now cost me $40/month). I also got a prescription for meter test strips for the first time; before I was pregnant I was not going through my insurance for test strips at all, and was simply buying them on Amazon. Without a prescription, I was using the Contour Next glucose meter, and paying $34 for 100 strips. With a prescription, I switched to True Metrix (the brand covered by my insurance), and ended up paying only about $4 for 150 strips.

Obviously I was glad to save some money (especially now that I was paying for mealtime insulin)... but those savings didn't come without a price. Getting my test strips through the hospital has proven to be a much greater hassle than just placing an Amazon order. First, I had to pick them up in person because my signature wasn't yet in the system for them to auto-bill my insurance. I was assured it would be smoother in the future, and that next month I could just call, ask for a reorder, and they'd be shipped directly to my house. But by the next month the hospital's medical supply distribution center had changed hands (and names), requiring all prescriptions to be resubmitted. This resulted in three back-and-forth phone calls before I was able to relay this message to my doctor's office and get this problem solved, and then another few days before the request went through, by which time I was down to my last couple of test strips. (Good thing I have a CGM as a backup way of checking my blood sugars!)

And the third month I went to reorder supplies? I had to go through the whole process of resubmitting my prescription again, because somehow they had "no record" of my prescription ever being resubmitted the previous month - or the package of test strips they'd sent me. Then, when that third month's supply finally arrived, it was the completely wrong thing. Instead of getting True Metrix test strips, I was sent AccuCheck lancets (which aren't even lancets I can use, because they require an AccuCheck brand lancing device which I don't have). I had to call them back (again) and ask them to send the test strips I needed.

Refilling my insulin is also often a chore, this time requiring arguments with my insurance. For much of the 2nd trimester I was not taking enough Novolog every day to finish an entire insulin pen before it expired (which, due to the nature of insulin, is 4 weeks after the pen is removed from the refrigerator and used for the first time). This meant that my insurance wouldn't let me refill my prescription when I needed to, since according to them I "hadn't used up" my last refill yet. I had to argue that it didn't matter how much of the pen I used - if I was following the instructions from the medicine's manufacturer, I would need a new pen every 4 weeks regardless. (And I had to make this same argument every 4 weeks, because the solution was always just a one-time override, and not changing whatever needed to be changed so that it wouldn't happen again.)

During my 2nd trimester, I really started to notice how much time and energy I was putting into managing my diabetes every day - and how much harder it was to keep track of everything for so long. I spend a lot of time:
  1. Keeping track of what my blood sugar is doing (both on my CGM and verifying the CGM's accuracy with at least a few follow-up finger sticks a day)
  2. Being constantly vigilant about when I need to eat next and what I should eat next - which also entails deciding whether or not I need to pack a snack and/or insulin pen(s) in my bag every time I leave the house; planning meals and buying groceries up to a week in advance; calculating the calories, carbs, and fiber of every ingredient in every dish I prepare; looking up those same nutrition facts online for any restaurant I'm planning to go to, so I can decide ahead of time what to order; and making a note of those three stats for every bite I put into my mouth
  3. Reorganizing all those pen-and-paper notes I keep into an online spreadsheet so that the info is easier to assess and find patterns, downloading CGM data to my computer from my receiver unit, and printing out all my charts and graphs to take to every doctor's appointment
  4. Remembering what my current dose of insulin is and making sure I take the right amount from the right pen, for 5 different injections taken at 4 different times every day (and properly disposing of my medical sharps, taking them to an appropriate recycling facility when the containers get full)
  5. Dealing with hypoglycemia alerts, sometimes multiple times a day and/or in the middle of the night, having to figure out each time if it's a false alert or real, and (if real) making sure I treat the low blood sugar as required, even if I don't want to - including trying to prick my finger and line up a drop of blood onto a small test strip in a dark bedroom in the middle of the night, or eating a snack when I'm not hungry, and
  6. Reordering test strips and lancets from the aforementioned dysfunctional hospital medical supply center, refilling prescriptions for insulin pen needles and two different types of insulin at Walgreen's, and reordering CGM sensors, transmitters, and overlay patches from another medical supply company, or from Dexcom directly, as needed.
All of that management requires a lot of physical space (our kitchen table is covered in my diabetes notes, paperwork, and prescriptions) and mental space - and sometimes it takes a toll on me emotionally. When I make a mistake (and with that many things to constantly keep track of, mistakes are inevitable), I feel guilty. By 23 weeks (before my craziest insulin adjustments even started), I was already seeing proof that managing every aspect of my diabetes was taking its toll on me. Things that should've been easy to remember started falling through the cracks.

As mentioned briefly above, I forgot to take a lunchtime insulin dose at 23 weeks pregnant, resulting in a post-meal blood sugar of 160 (which I actually thought was pretty good, considering I'd taken 3 less units of mealtime insulin than I should have). Then, a few days later, I finished a box of insulin needles and went to grab a new box off my shelf - only to find that there wasn't one. I'd been so sure I had another box in reserve that I hadn't bothered to check once I noticed the box I was using was getting low - but somehow 40 days had passed since I'd last filled my needle prescription and I'd gone through all 200 needles. This discovery resulted in a frantic phone call to Walgreen's, checking ALL the Walgreen's in the area, and ultimately having to get a different brand of needles than usual (a brand I disliked, because I found that I was more likely to bleed and bruise when using them), which I picked up just minutes before the pharmacy closed (because of course this happened on a Sunday when the pharmacy closed early). I was very lucky that I ended up not having to miss a single insulin dose due to my error; if I'd had to wait until Monday morning to pick up the prescription, I would've missed at least 4 doses, for a total of 16 units of insulin. I had no idea how badly that might have messed up my blood sugars, and was glad I didn't have to find out.

(Though, can we take a moment to please note the ridiculousness of the situation? I HAD medication on hand, just not the conduit to get the medication into my body. I think when you pick up your month's supply of insulin they should include the needles with it, instead of requiring two different prescriptions. Or, you know - maybe not require a prescription for those tiny insulin pen needles in the first place, but just have them available over the counter, on the shelf next to the test strips and lancets... But I digress.)

That was just one small mistake (and one I could easily blame on "pregnancy brain"), but it could've had serious consequences. I had another such mistake after my insulin doses started frequently changing after 23 weeks - I was looking at my evening Levemir dose (6 u.) instead of my morning Novolog dose (5 u.) in my notes and ended up giving myself 6 u. of Novolog instead of only 5 u. Again, in the scheme of things, this wasn't a disaster - but only by sheer luck. I happened, completely by chance, to almost do the right thing, and the difference of 1 unit didn't affect my blood sugars much. But what if I'd grabbed the wrong pen too, and given myself 6 u. of Levemir instead of 5 u. of Novolog? I would've had significantly more basal insulin in my body than I needed, and would've fought dangerously low blood sugars all day long, likely requiring a trip to the hospital to bring them back up.

I know that these sorts of mistakes are inevitable. I try my best to be diligent, but it's just impossible to be completely aware of everything I'm doing all the time. Still, when they happen, it's hard not to blame myself and feel guilty. Even when I don't make a mistake at all, but simply follow the plan my doctors and I have developed, things still happen - things that I want to believe I have control over, but which I probably (for whatever reason) just don't. Despite trying to eat right and get my insulin doses right, that first 200+ blood sugar two hours after eating wasn't the only one I had this trimester (there were two others, too). And despite my 4.8% A1C, my baby is measuring in the 96th percentile. Whether I have an explanation for something ("I forgot to take an insulin dose, and that's why this blood sugar is higher than I'd like") or not, I worry about it. I worry that my diabetes is hurting my baby.

According to everything I've read, the last trimester (particularly at 7 and 8 months of pregnancy) is the hardest for managing diabetes, because that's when insulin resistance is at its peak (thanks, placenta!). It may get a bit easier during the last few weeks, with insulin needs plateauing or even decreasing a bit as my body prepares for labor. And then, after labor and delivery of the placenta, my insulin requirements will likely go right back down to pre-pregnancy levels. Unfortunately, I don't know what those "pre-pregnancy levels" might be for me, since before my pregnancy I was 1) not taking any mealtime insulin, and 2) eating a low-carb diet to address that fact. I don't particularly want to go back to that (especially since I plan to breastfeed, and will likely need to maintain a fairly similar diet to what I've been eating while pregnant in order to successfully do so), but that means I don't know what my non-pregnancy insulin requirements will be, given that I've never regularly taken mealtime insulin when not pregnant. Maybe we'll start with the lowest doses I took during this pregnancy, and adjust from there?

I plan to write two future blog posts on these topics - one about managing my diabetes during the 3rd trimester and during labor, and another about managing my diabetes postpartum - but these likely won't get posted for quite some time. When my 3rd trimester is done, I'll have a few other things on my mind (a baby, for instance, and transitioning to motherhood!), but I'm hoping to have that 3rd trimester post available by March 2020, whether my little one arrives in January 2020 as my estimated due date would suggest, or in late December 2019, as my MFM doctors are likely to push for.


Wednesday, January 30, 2019

Personal Values

A couple years ago, I took the time to think about and explicitly define my personal values. Not other people's values, or what society as a whole seems to value, or even what I wanted to value - but the things I naturally, innately valued: the things I've been prioritizing and living my life according to all along (or trying to prioritize and live my life according to), without even realizing it.

Now, "innate" doesn't mean these things are easy for me to prioritize - on the contrary, there were many times in my life when these values were incredibly difficult to believe in at all, let alone base my behaviors on. But it is precisely this - that these beliefs and behaviors would persist even when it would've been easier to forget them or change - that helped convince me they were my core values after all. These are things that some part of me has always believed, even when other parts of me were actively resisting and trying not to.

Maybe it seems odd to put in the effort of putting my values into words, when on some subconscious level I already knew what they were. I find it helpful, though - not only for my personal edification and trying to better understand myself, but also to use as a tool in times of stress. So often when I feel stressed, it's because I've started listening to other people instead of myself. I've forgotten what I usually or innately prioritize, or even somehow talked myself into trying to change those priorities to look like something else - something decidedly not me. Referring to my list of personal values in these moments can help me identify which of my values I've been neglecting and help me refocus my priorities. Other times, I'm stressed because my current situation is making it difficult for me to live according to my values, which is upsetting and frustrating. In this case, too, referring to my list of personal values is helpful, because it illuminates which of my values are currently threatened, which in turn helps me figure out how to find another way to fulfill those values despite my circumstances. 

Today I'd like to share my list of values with you. Some may look familiar, being values you also have; others might be completely foreign and not something you'd at all agree with. I'm not passing judgment on these values as inherently superior to anyone else's - these just happen to be the values I've inherited or cultivated over the years and which now truly feel like a part of me, woven into my very essence. It took lots of self-reflection, recalling countless memories, and going through old journals, researching and collecting evidence from my own life, to come up with this list - and I still occasionally revise it from time to time. It's not set it stone; it's a living document, and it changes as I continue living. 

There are seven values altogether, divided into two broader categories. Under each value, I've also written "I will" statements, to give myself examples and encouragement for how I can live my life according to that particular value. These statements are meant as inspiration, and are not indicative of how I always think or behave... but I do have several examples of times in my life where I have done those things, which I read both to remind myself what I'm capable of, and to remind myself that these really are my values, and have always, on some level, been my values. (After all, if they weren't my values, I wouldn't have this pattern of past behaviors which seems to reflect them.) I've also included some of those examples here, underneath the main list of values - quotes from my private journals and private/public blogs.

**

My values:

A. I am self-sufficient and I have self-worth.

1. I know what I want, and recognize if I'm not getting it. If I am not provided with what I want, I work toward it by myself, for myself.
  • I will allow myself to need things, want things, and hope for things, and I will practice recognizing what I need, want, and hope.
  • If I need something from someone else, I will speak up and fight for what I need.
  • If I want to learn something or do something or have something or participate in something, I will find a way to do it or ask for it (in the best way I know how at the time).
  • I will continue to set personal, creative, intellectual, emotional, and physical goals, which represent accomplishments that are personal priorities for me; and I will continue to pursue these goals, for myself.
2. I believe I am worthy and deserving of being treated with respect and kindness. I put a lot of energy into empathizing and trying to understand others, and I get upset when I don't get this kindness and understanding in return that I know I deserve.
  • I will choose to surround myself with people who give me that kindness and respect.
  • If someone repeatedly denies me the respect and kindness I deserve, I will not allow them to play a significant role in my life.
B. I cherish the things that make me human and I value the time nurturing these pursuits.

3. I value my intellect and stretching and nurturing my knowledge and understanding of the world.
  • I will continue to take classes, learn new things, read books, do research, flex my "insight" muscles, make connections, and develop my own way of understanding the world.
  • I will immerse myself in these intellectual pursuits for myself, researching and exploring the topics that are interesting or meaningful to me.
  • I will take pride in the personal language and metaphors I create and use to describe my unique understanding of the world.
4. I like trying to understand myself and trying to understand other people. I practice compassion, kindness, and empathy towards others. I like connecting with others (especially on a deeper, emotional level) and feeling like a part of the web of humanity.
  • I will prioritize tending my emotions, journaling, chronicling and revisiting my memories, writing and rewriting my life's narrative, defining my personal values, and establishing my self-identity.
  • I will seek out and experience others' creative outputs/understandings of humanity by reading fiction and nonfiction, listening to music, watching television shows or movies, attending theater productions, visiting museums, and contemplating visual artwork.
  • I will strengthen the relationships I have with the kind, respectful people in my life by initiating or participating in heartfelt, honest conversations.
  • I will pursue friendships and find meaningful ways of connecting with new people.
5. I am emotional - and I value my emotions and my ability to demonstrate them. I use multiple different avenues to feel, and to express and share my feelings and opinions with others. I believe that my feelings and opinions are worth sharing with others, because I have a unique voice and insights to offer the world.
  • I will acknowledge the emotions I have, and not shame myself for feeling or expressing them.
  • I will allow myself to cry, and to stop crying, to feel emotion every day, and revisit the same emotions over and over.
  • I will listen to or watch media that encourage me to feel.
  • I will allow myself to express my emotions in front of the trustworthy people closest to me.
  • I will write, draw, and paint with the specific intent to share my thoughts or feelings with others. I will craft my message carefully and pointedly, with honesty, heartfelt emotion, and eager vulnerability. And I will work to share these insightful creations with others.
6. I value my creativity and exploring artistic pursuits.
  • I will create spontaneous art and writing for myself, giving myself permission to use art and creative writing as a personal relaxation or therapeutic technique, or to simply enjoy the aspects of creation, making a mess, and working intuitively without forethought or concern with the art/writing's marketability or message.
  • I will learn new artistic or writing techniques and familiarize myself with new artistic materials, both on my own as a method of play and in a more formal classroom/group setting, to expand my horizons, embrace the process of art-making and writing, connect with others who have similar interests, and have fun.
7. I am independent, inquisitive, adventurous, and brave. I like trying new things and forging my own path. I like exploring my environment and exploring new places. I want to experience everything. I want to take advantage of opportunities, and to be able to say I really lived my life.
  • I will prioritize traveling, exposing myself to new environments and new opportunities to see and experience the world.
  • I will chronicle my experiences through photography and journaling to remind myself of all the place I've been/things I've done.
  • I will strike out on my own to try new and potentially scary things.
  • If there is something I want to try, I will not let being alone in this desire, fear of what others might think of me, or others' risk aversion hold me back.
  • If there is something I want to do that is not organically presented to me, I will seek out and cultivate these opportunities myself.

**

Category B was easier for me to pinpoint - they are characteristics about myself I have been more likely to embrace throughout my life, values that were less "hidden" from me. I wanted to take as many classes as I could, in high school and college both, trying to balance my love of learning about a wide range of topics with my specific passions of art and writing. When time or scheduling restraints preventing me from doing everything I wanted to, I prioritized learning, writing, or creating art in my spare time as well. And even when my emotions and experiences were invalidated or written off by others, I persisted over the years in writing on Livejournal, Facebook, and various blogs, because I believed my feelings and opinions were worth sharing with others (whether a select group of trustworthy friends, strangers, or some combination thereof). I've always loved making deep, emotional connections with others - whether in person or online or with fictional characters - and feeling like a part of the web of humanity.

  • From 11/18/2005: "I'm disappointed already because our high school has some really cool classes that I never had time to take... just wait until I graduate college. I want to take ALL the classes!"
  • From 4/2/2006: "There's something almost cathartic about hanging out backstage with theater people. All that energy and excitement. Now that the show is over, I'll miss the sense of community. It never ceases to amaze me how everyone can bond so quickly in just a couple of weeks. I love it."
  • From 6/29/2006: "Even if not professionally, I hope to always draw and write, just for my own benefit. Art is something to look forward to, something to work at, something to accomplish, something to be proud of. Honestly, I can't imagine my life without drawing of some sort, even if it's just doodling cartoons, because drawing has been a part of me for so long."
  • From 8/15/2006: "Things that make me smile: crazy dreams, writing something good, drawing something good, buying school supplies, and embarking on new academic adventures."
  • From 1/5/2007: "It makes me a little sad, to lose something that was such a large part of my life, but in the end I think it tore me away from people more than it brought me closer to them. It kept me from understanding certain things or empathizing with people by hardening my heart to those who were different from me, and that's not something I'm okay with."
  • From 9/15/2007: "I want to witness stories and empathize with people. But I can't be that kind of person easily - because I've conditioned myself to often be emotionally detached, telling myself that emotion is weakness. So just because connecting with other people is something I genuinely want to do does not mean it's something I'm always able to do - and knowing that, admitting that, makes me feel so sad and overwhelmed."
  • From 12/5/2007: "My art history paper had to be 15 pages long; mine is 28. I just got so excited to do the research and got really interested in it!"
  • From 3/14/2008: "Oh well. It doesn't mean I won't read and write in my spare time, even if I can't fit English and Creative Writing classes into my schedule."
  • From 9/3/2008: "I want art to just take me in any and every direction it can; I don't want to limit myself to one thing. I want to have a concentration in everything."
  • From 11/1/2010: "I really don't want to settle for a job I don't want, when I believe I'm capable of better things and know how important growing and challenging myself are to me."
  • From 5/9/2011: "I want to nurture my authenticity - that is, being true to myself and doing what I really want to do. I want to do at least one authentic thing a day - one thing I do just for myself, just because I want to, because it's who I am."

Category A, however, was not something I initially included in my list of values at all. I knew that I wanted to believe I was self-sufficient and had self-worth - but I didn't think that I already believed those things, just that they were beliefs I was trying to acquire, in order to raise my low self-esteem. If you've ever tried to convince yourself to believe something, you know that it's a daunting task - raising my low self-esteem therefore seemed to require Herculean effort. How was I supposed to convince myself to believe I was capable of seeing myself as worthy and deserving of kindness and respect, or practice recognizing what I wanted and working toward such goals, if I'd spent so many years doing exactly the opposite?

But then I noticed something, reading through old journals. Whenever I wasn't treated with respect and kindness, I got angry and upset. I wouldn't have felt that way if I truly believed I didn't deserve those things. 

  • From 9/26/2005: "What about me? Can't I be happy too? I deserve more than what I've been getting lately."
  • From 5/17/2006: "I'm trying not to be bitter, I really am. But I guess I still can't help but feel that all my hard work has gone unnoticed or unacknowledged."
  • From 10/1/2006: "I would never have said that to them, because I would never want to hurt them. Did they not even think about how this might make me feel?"
  • From 7/16/2007: "I don't think you realize how much it hurts when you treat me this way - or else why would you continue, if you knew how much it kills me? What do you hope to gain? There is only so much I can take before I just can't bottle up my feelings anymore."

What's more - when I understood (even on a subconscious level) that I was lacking something important, I tried to do something about it. Even if it turned out to be a dysfunctional coping mechanism in the end, it was still an attempt to provide myself with what I needed, with whatever resources I had to work with or understanding I had about the situation at the time.

This went for showing myself respect and kindness, too. I wanted to be nicer to myself, to stop self-abusing, and learn how to have better self-esteem. It was a cycle I got stuck in often in middle school, high school, college, and even after - being critical and awful to myself, and then vowing to be better.

  • From 2003: "I guess I'm stuck being me. Maybe one day that'll make me happy. Maybe one day I'll be proud of myself. But for now I guess I'm here, hoping that maybe that 'one day' is near."
  • From 2004: "I'm sick of beating myself up. I'm tired of being a perfectionist. I try too hard. I care too much. Enough is enough."
  • From 12/31/2005: "I will work on being happier, especially with myself. I need more self-confidence."
  • From 11/7/2006: "I am too critical of myself. I want to be nicer to myself."
  • From 12/27/2008: "I wish I'd done less over-analyzing things, disliking myself, and stressing out in 2008. I'm still learning how to stop judging myself so harshly, but I'll get there."
  • From 1/8/2011: "I love the rare times I believe in myself (though I bet I'd like them even more if they were less rare)."

It was eye-opening to discover how many of those entries there were in my journals over the years - and a relief. It meant that, while a part of me had spent years (decades) being overly critical and abusive to myself, there was always some part of me who stubbornly persisted on seeing my self-worth. It meant that I didn't have to teach myself from scratch how to value myself after all - just that I had to cultivate that part of me that already existed. It felt like less of a Sisyphean struggle after that; it felt like a cycle I could actually escape.

And so I included those Category A statements in my list of personal values as well - and it was those more than the ones about creating art or writing blog posts or learning new things that I'm really talking about when I said earlier that it was important and helpful to me to take the time to put those values down into words. Those are the values I haven't always let myself believe in, the values that haven't come easily to me - but things I kept trying to believe anyway, even while other parts of me were actively resisting.

As I mentioned at the beginning of this post, it's been a couple years now since writing these values down and firmly asserting to myself, without a shadow of a doubt, that these are statements I actually believe, and have always believed. I'd been slowly growing more comfortable with myself and allowing myself to cultivate my self-esteem anyway, but writing down this list made those pursuits even easier. I can honestly say that I've never felt more content with and proud of myself than I have in recent years. I've had moments of pride before, of course - but they often grew from someone else being proud of me for something I'd accomplished. They were moments of external validation that I'd internalized, rather than internal validation that persisted no matter what tangible things I was accomplishing, what goals I was seeing to completion, or what others might be thinking of me. 

It has been a profound help, and a great relief, to discover my authentic self and allow myself to value what I innately want to value. This doesn't mean that I never care what others think of me - but it does mean I can more easily find my sense of self-worth again anytime I temporarily lose it.

Tuesday, May 9, 2017

Self Compliments

At the end of 2016, I had the idea to write some compliments about myself. It came from a desire to make sure to capture my self-esteem (while I had some) and find a way to preserve it, in case I needed reminding in the future of my worth and what I am capable of. I started writing some positive adjectives about myself, as I thought of them. Then, I consulted lists of positive adjectives online and added to my list, finding more adjectives that I thought fit me. (A lot of these were variations of the same idea, or even synonyms of each other. But I wrote them down anyway, just so the list looked lengthy and very impressive.)

I thought it would be good to start 2017 off on the right foot and make sure I reminded myself on a consistent basis what some of those adjectives were. I divided up my "compliments" into 52 groups, one for each week of the year, and then I set up emails to myself through the website FutureMe.org, which lets you schedule emails to be sent to yourself at a later date, sending one email to my inbox every Monday.

In the future, I don't think I would do it this way again. Often, the email arrives in the middle of a bunch of spam emails and I barely pay attention to it. Even when I do pay attention and take the time to really read it and absorb the words, I find that it has little impact on a day when I already feel confident. Instead of scheduling them in advance, then, I think a better idea would have been to print them out and cut them up and put them in a jar or something. Then, when a time came when I needed to hear some encouragement, I could reach in there and find one to read.

In general, though, I do think it's a good exercise to do, and I would recommend it to anyone who struggles with self-esteem, even if only on an occasional basis. Take the time on a day when you're feeling good, and write compliments to yourself. This works on two levels. First, it's always nice to hear good things about yourself and be reminded of times you had success in the past, things you're proud of, positive qualities intrinsic to your personality, etc. Second, seeing words that you yourself wrote in the past will remind you that you once believed in the words you wrote (and therefore can believe in them again). I know my first reaction when I hear a compliment is to be embarrassed, or to brush it off as just "somebody being nice" and not "somebody actually telling the truth." But that reaction doesn't happen when they're compliments to me, written by me, that get sent to my email by me, and aren't seen by anyone else but me. There's no one else around, so I don't have to feel embarrassed, or worry that if I show too much gratitude for the compliment I'll somehow be less deserving of it (because I guess my subconscious thinks that only humble people deserve love?). Furthermore, because I picked out these adjectives and wrote these compliments to myself, I have to believe them and take them seriously, because I already have believed them and taken them seriously in the past. It sounds confusing, I know. But somehow, it just works.

It does feel a little silly, writing what are essentially love letters to yourself. But they really are helpful, especially if you're someone who always focuses on the negative, ruminating and beating yourself up over every failure or mistake you've made, but neglecting to take the time to acknowledge successes and challenges you've overcome. It's like you're retraining your brain to focus on good things, too, by purposefully doing just that.

Here are some samples of these compliment letters I've written to myself, in case you want to use these as a jumping-off point to show yourself some self-love as well:

Don't forget, you are calm, calming, and capable! You are welcoming, worthwhile, and worthy. You are self-reliant, creative, and persistent in whatever you do. You are a good person, and you have value. 
Don't forget, you are considerate and consistent! You always do the best you can at the time with what you know. Your confidence, self-esteem, and inner wisdom are increasing with each day. You are a good person, and you have value. 
Don't forget, you are wanted, warm-hearted, and warranted! You are thankful, thorough, and thoughtful. You play a big role in your own career success. You are a good person, and you have value. 
Don't forget, you are deserving, determined, and devoted! You are scholarly, self-disciplined, and self-governing. You draw from your inner strength. You are a good person, and you have value. 
Don't forget, you are artistic, awake, and authentic! You are selfless (to a fault) but working towards self-empowerment. You are self-expressive. You are unique; you feel good about being alive and being you. You are a good person, and you have value. 
Don't forget, you are grateful and grounded! You are prolific, and you are progressive. You matter and what you have to offer this world also matters. You are a good person, and you have value. 
Don't forget, you are merciful, mindful, and multi-dimensional! You are a better person for the hardships you have gone through with your family and friends. You are a good person, and you have value. 
Don't forget, you are compassionate and composed! You are necessary and needed. You choose friends who approve of you and love you; you actively work at bettering your life. You are a good person, and you have value. 
Don't forget, you are nurturing, nourishing, and nourished! You are affectionate and accomplished. You let go of worries that drain your energy, and channel them into creative endeavors. You are a good person, and you have value.
Don't forget, you are illustrious, improving, and incomparable! You are hopeful and helpful. You are self-reflective and capable of recognizing and moving beyond your mistakes. You are a good person, and you have value.
Don't forget, you are patient, peaceful, and perceptive! You are knowledgable and kind. You make smart, calculated plans for your future. You are a good person, and you have value.
Don't forget, you are ambitious and articulate! By allowing yourself to be happy, you inspire others to be happy as well. You are a sunshine-spreader! You are a good person, and you have value.
Don't forget, you are disciplined, driven, and durable! You are learned, but always willing to learn more. You are capable of loving all of who you are. You are a good person, and you have value.

As you can see, a lot of them get a little repetitive. The point is not to make every note completely different - just to find different ways of telling yourself the same things over and over again, until they start to stick and you see them for yourself.

I followed the same basic pattern every time. By starting with "don't forget" I reminded myself that what followed was going to be something I had at one point believed; if I hadn't thought these things about myself lately, it was just because I'd forgotten, not because they were no longer true. I then continued with a string of adjectives, pulled from the list of adjectives I'd created for myself. (I alphabetized the list, so when I copy-pasted three or four adjectives from my list, they were already in fun, alliterative phrases!)

Then, I included an affirmation, from lists I found online. Things like "You are capable of moving beyond your mistakes" or "You are a better person for the hardships you've endured" or "You feel good about being alive and being you." I often find it hard to think of these kinds of affirmations in "I" statements (as in, "I am capable of moving beyond my mistakes" or "I am a better person" or "I feel good about being alive and being me"), because they feel more false that way. I start to second-guess them: "But I don't feel capable today, right now! This is all just a lie!" For me, using "I" opens up chances for me to search for holes to poke through them; whereas, if I word it with a "you" instead, and pretend that I'm talking to myself and telling myself these things, I'm more likely to accept them. Of course those sentiments aren't always true; but they are always possible, and that's the point. Even if you don't feel capable right now, you still are capable, because you've been capable in the past and will be again in the future. By using "you," I find it easier to accept it as a statement that could be true, and that therefore is true - instead of using "I" and wondering if it is true, and therefore concluding that maybe it can't be. (But all that is really just personally preference.)

Finally, I close with "You are a good person and you have value," because this is the conclusion I want to reach every time. I'm a good person because I try to be a good person. I'm a good person because of all the positive qualities I have, and the effort I put in to working on myself. I have value, because I am a person. I deserve the good things that happen to me, or the things that work out in my favor, because every person does. I am allowed to acknowledge and bask in successes I've achieved; I am allowed to be happy.

Tuesday, January 17, 2017

Taking Responsibility For Your Ignorance

One of my biggest pet peeves is when people have the means to do something but choose not to do it - either out of laziness or a lack of confidence in their own self-sufficiency.

And, just to be clear, when I say "pet peeve," I mean something that frustrates me because it makes me sad to see. It doesn't make me angry (very little actually makes me angry) - but it does make me sad. When I see people do this, I pity them. I want to ask them why they don't think enough of themselves to care about the image they're putting out there, or why they don't think enough of themselves to believe in their abilities.

For example, when someone egregiously misspells a common word. I am not the best speller myself (I was always in the lowest spelling groups in my elementary school classes), but I do read a lot and I write a lot, especially on the computer, and over time my spelling has improved. And if I'm typing, and that little red line appears that tells me I've misspelled the word, I don't leave it like that. I figure out how I spelled it wrong - either by using Chrome or Firefox or MS Word's suggestions for the word I meant or, if I spelled it so wrong that whatever app I'm using has no suggestions, by going to Google and typing in a few different ways I can think of to spell it and checking that against the definition to make sure that I find the correct spelling and am using the word as I intended to use it. It does take some time (an entire minute or two), but it's not that difficult and it's important to me to make sure the words are spelled correctly, so I am willing to put in that effort.

It is not so easy to do on a phone, I know. It's harder to run spell check, it requires closing the app you're in and opening a new one to search for the correct spelling, and sometimes even if you do all of those things, your phone thinks it knows better and "autocorrects" to a different word you did not intend to use at all. I don't fault someone for not caring about spelling or grammar as much as I do, and I certainly don't fault them for auto-correct mistakes. In fact, if it's a difficult-to-spell word, chances are good I won't even notice if it's misspelled. But if it is a short, common word, and your spelling is so far off that it takes me extra time while reading it to figure out what you actually meant to say, it feels like you're essentially saying to everyone else that your time is more important than theirs. You don't need to take the time to make your status easy to read; it is up to the person choosing to read it to figure out what you meant and do that extra minute of work.

I'm thinking of a particular case where I was following a Facebook friend who was complaining about a visiting friend being a generally horrible house guest, and abusive to boot. It was a very serious post, voicing a serious complaint, and looking for serious advice on what she should do. He had grabbed her arm at one point and left bruises there. Except that she spelled the word "broozes," which instantly made me think of "booze." It made the sentence confusing and took me awhile to figure out what it actually said - and the spelling "broozes" looked so comical that it completely underscored the seriousness of her post. It is possible that she honestly did not know that "broozes" was wrong, and so did not know better than to leave it like that. It is also possible (probable, I would think, in her case), that she was typing quickly, on her phone, and did not have the time nor care enough to stop what she was doing and find the correct spelling. She was stressed out and in a difficult situation, and the spelling of her status was the last thing on her mind.

But I have seen people do this kind of thing again and again, and often it is not that they are in a difficult or potentially dangerous situation at all. They are just going about daily life, writing something innocuous or mundane or silly, and they misspell an easy word. Or they share or retweet something that is simply not true but that they did not take the time to verify. Or they are having a discussion with someone and something comes up that they do not recognize or do not understand, and they just continue the discussion anyway, or ask the person they are talking with to stop to explain that thing to them.

To these people, I want to say: you have the ability to fix this. You can look up a word you don't know how to spell, or a word you aren't sure of the definition of. It is as easy as going to Google and typing in the word, or typing in "define" and then the word. You can verify the legitimacy of something you see on the Internet by clicking on it and seeing where it came from and what sources it cites or who wrote it. You can look up a phrase that you don't know the meaning of. We live in a world of easy information. We have Google. You don't have to not know things anymore.

I would think that it was just people being lazy, and not wanting to do the work themselves. But I don't think that's always it. I think a lot of people genuinely do not believe themselves capable of taking charge of their own education like this. It is literally as easy as typing a word into Google, but people don't know how to do it. I worked as a substitute teacher for almost two years, and a lot of the classes I did were middle school classes. These kids were not lazy; they were willing to do the work and were trying to work on the assignments that the teacher had left for them to accomplish in her absence. And they had easy resources at their disposal to help them finish the assignments. They had smartphones, they had tablets, they had laptops. I subbed a lot in the Romeo district, where every middle schooler had a school-issued Chromebook (laptop) to use. They used these every day, in every class. And yet, they still did not know how to use Google. They were so uncertain in their abilities to take charge of their own education that they didn't know where to begin. They wanted me to just tell them the answer, because then they would not be culpable. "That's what the sub said," they could say as an excuse if they got it wrong. They did not want the responsibility of doing the work themselves.

They would be doing a vocabulary worksheet and come across a word (not one of the vocab words) that they didn't know and they would raise their hand and call me over and ask me what it meant. I would point to their Chromebook. "Did you look it up?" They didn't even know what I meant. They knew how to find the correct definitions of the vocab words, because they were in their digital textbook. But if they had to look up a definition of another word, they had no idea. I told them to go to Google and they looked at me like I was crazy. It's a Chromebook! The whole thing is literally just Chrome. There is a Google search bar RIGHT THERE, on every page. I told them to type the word into the search bar and see what came up. "But this isn't what I want, this doesn't answer my question." Okay, then put "define" in front of it. If they tried something once and it didn't work immediately they just gave up. They had no self-sufficiency for finding answers to their questions on their own.

When I subbed in high schools, it was the same way. Kids would literally be holding a smartphone in their hand and ask me to define a word for them. You have the internet right there in your hand! Look it up yourself! They had no confidence.

It just made me really sad to see, that by the time these kids were 11 or 12 they had already given up control of their education. They didn't want to figure it out themselves. "Just tell me the answer," they would say. "It'll be easier." What they meant was - it would be more likely they would get the answer right. They didn't care if they learned anything, they just wanted to get it right.

You get out of education what you put into it. If you don't care, you won't learn.

I don't know. I like learning new things. I haven't been in school for 6.5 years now, but I still go out of my way to learn things. If I'm reading an article and I can't figure out what a word means by context clues, I'll probably look it up. Maybe not every time, but if it's something I care about and want to know, I look it up. I don't ask anyone else what it means. I know I'm capable of using Google, capable of figuring things out. If I want to know more about something, I read up on it. If I want to know how to spell a word, I look it up. If I'm writing something and a word pops into my head that I'm not sure about, and I want to know if it's the correct word to use, I look it up.

I think this is one of the biggest problems for the future... It's not just kids. It's adults too. This is why "fake news" is such a problem, why people share and retweet things that are blatantly false. People don't trust themselves to know things or know how to go about knowing things. They want other people to tell them. When other people tell them, they assume it's legitimate. They don't believe in themselves, but they believe in strangers. We all have so little self-confidence in our critical thinking skills, in our ability to look things up, to arrive at the right answers, that we rely too heavily on others - others who are also not self-confident, others who just got their answers from someone else, too.

You just need one person to say something - anything - and say it with conviction, and so many people will follow. Because we don't think for ourselves. We don't have the confidence to. It's pitiful, and it makes me sad. To see that even middle schoolers have this problem, that already they've lost all confidence in themselves - it was really disheartening. When I see people my age do these things, or older adults, or elderly people - it's still disheartening. At what point do we start gaining that confidence back? At what point do we learn how to be responsible for our own education, our own words?

People give up on themselves too easily.




Thursday, November 10, 2016

Dear Fellow Liberal White Women

Dear Fellow Liberal White Women:

By now you've probably heard the statistic. 53% of white women voted for Donald Trump on Tuesday, while only 43% of white women voted for Hillary Clinton.

This statistic has been the catalyst for articles like this one from the Huffington Post, which accuses white women of not caring enough about sexism, about their friends of color, about the LGBTQ community, and other marginalized groups that Trump has bullied, belittled, unsettled, and threatened during his contentious campaign run. These articles attempt to shame white women. The message is clear: this tragedy is your fault. You should know better. You should do more.

What is less clear is the intended audience. Is the article talking about the white women who voted Trump? They would seem to be the most directly culpable - and yet, they're hardly the ones who are going on Huffington Post the day after the election, heartbroken and searching in desperation for answers as to how Hillary lost. So is the article actually talking to liberal white women? Liberal white women who perhaps knew conservative white women, but didn't "do enough" to convince them not to vote for Trump, or not to vote third party?

Why is the article talking to women at all?

As if women - the victims of the patriarchy - are the worst offenders. As if because they witness sexism, they should "know better." (Isn't that called victim blaming? If you were talking to a rape survivor, would you ask why she let herself be raped? No. You wouldn't.)

This article is hardly alone in casting blame unilaterally, in failing to understand what is actually happening. Even before election day, it was rampant. In an email chain going around my husband's liberal, Jewish family, a relative wrote, "Remember: a woman voting Republican is like a chicken voting for Colonel Sanders."

To us liberals, it is obvious 1) that sexism exists, 2) that sexism is a bad thing that needs to be eradicated, and 3) that the Republican party only perpetuates sexism. But those are not givens. Conservative women do not see those statements as fundamental truths. They do not understand that voting Republican is contributing to their own oppression. And blaming them, or trying to shame them into understanding that is not a tactic that is going to work.

Those white women who voted Republican? I know them. They are my family members, my Facebook friends, my ancestors, my neighbors. Hell, I was once one of those women. It was the environment I grew up in. And if I hadn't had some liberal high school teachers, if I hadn't gone to college, if I hadn't taken Women's and Gender Studies classes - it's likely I would still be one of them.

I know those white women. And I'm telling you - they are not monsters. They are not stupid. They are not mean-spirited or vindictive, and they did not vote for Trump because they don't care about other women, or people of color, or disabled people, or members of the LGBTQ community. Even the ones who were most enthusiastic about Trump did not love everything about his rhetoric. They made excuses for his poor language choices, his misbehaviors, his bullying - rebranding them as antics, as "speaking his mind" - because they liked him for other reasons.

They are not monsters. They are victims. They are victims of the patriarchy, same as us. There is no "perfect" victim. Some recognize sexism and do everything in their power to try to fix it. Others recognize sexism but don't prioritize fighting it. Still others don't even recognize sexism at all. They don't know they're victims. That doesn't mean they aren't victims - just that they don't know they are.

These white women who voted for Trump live in suburbs, in rural areas, where everyone smiles at each other instead of leering. They've never seen an obvious example of sexism in their everyday lives, because they are privileged in other ways (by their skin color, their religion, their country of birth, the language they speak, their sexual orientation). They have always (or mostly) felt personally valued by the men and other women in their lives; they've always felt respected and loved. Their oppression is familiar, a comfort, and they do not recognize it for what it is.

They recognize that there are differences between the genders - both innate and learned - but they don't see this as oppression. They easily fit into the criteria our society has developed for womanhood, and so it is not of their concern for them to be kept in that box. They like the challenge of juggling double standards. They don't even realize they're juggling them.

They like pleasing people. They like taking care of the men in their lives. They are peacekeepers within their families. They do what is expected of them because it is easier that way, or because they like knowing that they are doing all they can to keep their families running smoothly. They like knowing what they are supposed to do. There are traditional gender roles, and as long as they follow them, their lives are pleasant, tolerable.

When they are catcalled at the grocery store, they take it as a compliment. Because they have been taught to take it as a compliment. Because they have been taught that men are allowed to "act like men."

They rationalize and make excuses when Trump (or anyone else) brags about sexual assault, describes women in vulgar terms, or indicates that women are put on Earth for the sole purpose of men's desires - whether that be for her to let him have sex with her, or for her to make him a sandwich - because that is what they do everyday of their lives. They have seen their husbands, their fathers, their brothers, their sons, their friends act the same way and say the same things. They believe (they hope) that their men don't mean anything by it - that it's just silly, that it's fine, that it's the way things always have been and the way they always will be.

They would never dream of working outside the home - because they don't need to, because they don't want to, because they firmly believe that they are not supposed to.

They feel the double-bind of working outside the home and childcare. They feel guilty if they spend too much time at home with their children - they wonder if they should be at work, modeling for the next generation that a woman can do both, that a mother can have a wider range of influence than just the tiny sphere of her home. They feel guilty if they spend too much time at work - they wonder if they should be home, taking care of their children and doing housework, as their mothers and mother's mothers and mother's mother's mothers did. They want to "have it all" and they want to prove that they can "have it all." They think, "All these other women do it. Why can't I? It must be something wrong with me. Me - not the system, or the unfair double standards, but me as an individual. I am the one who is failing."

They don't like to be called a Feminist, because men don't like women who are Feminists. They don't like the idea of rocking the boat. They would rather be the one who smooths hurt feelings, rather than the cause of it.

When they see oppression, they deflect it. They think: "That wasn't what I thought it was." They think: "I was wrong." They think: "This isn't systematic oppression. It's just a one-time thing." They think: "Maybe that woman deserved it." They think: "Maybe I deserve it."

They are Christian, and they believe it when men tell them that the Christian God once decreed that women are inferior to men. They believe that the best thing they can be is someone's daughter, someone's wife, someone's mother. They define themselves - gladly, willingly - as belonging to someone else. They don't feel qualified to stand alone, to be independent. They don't have high enough self-esteem to believe that they have value outside of their interpersonal relationships.

The world has favored men for so long that they assume this is simply the way things are. Men wouldn't be the heads of religion, the heads of government, the heads of households if it weren't supposed to be that way. Life is just harder for women. It's okay. It's what God intended. They think, "God gave me this cross to bear, this cross of being female. And it is up to me to be strong enough to bear it." They tuck their feelings inside, until their feelings disappear.

They have been objectified and condemned and violated. They have been beaten and emotionally abused and sexually assaulted and raped. But they don't want to think about it. It happened a long time ago. It doesn't matter anymore. Best to forget about it.

They blame themselves for tragedies that have happened to them. When their husbands beat them or yell at them or control their money or threaten to leave them or threaten to separate them from their children, or use any number of psychological and emotional and physical abuse tactics, these women wonder, "What did do wrong? What did I do to provoke him?"

They don't want to act like a victim. They don't want to be upset with their lot; they don't want to cry, they don't want to be angry. They've witnessed sexism everyday of their life, but choose not to acknowledge it, because it is easier to bury their heads in the sand. They have a series of defense mechanisms - defense mechanisms they aren't even aware that they use - to keep them from understanding that women are still second-class citizens, to keep them from understanding why Feminism is important.

Their husbands, their pastors, their Fox News anchors tell them to vote Republican. These women hear that "women's issues" are special interests. They are told that there are more serious issues at stake - issues like immigration, or the economy. Issues that effect everyone. Issues that effect men. Issues that effect Christians. Issues that "matter."

They are tired. They've never fought for their own freedoms before, but it looks exhausting. They've tried fighting before, and it got them nowhere. They see the writing on the wall. They think change is impossible, improbable. They see other things that are easier to change, easier to fight for - and so they focus on those other issues that they care about, the ones they have come to believe are more important to focus on.

They have other things in their lives, other priorities. Being a woman is only a small part of who they are. They have jobs that consume their time, or children that consume their energy. They consider other things when deciding who to vote for. They know they can handle sexism. They've been surviving sexism since they were born; they can do it for another 100 years. It's all they've ever known.

They still live with their parents. They live with their husbands. They live with their children. They live in a nursing home. They are intimidated. They are scared. They have different opinions than their families. They keep quiet.

They worried what a Hillary presidency would do to men. They worried that it would make their fathers, their husbands, their coworkers more intolerable. They worried at the personal backlash that they might witness, or be victims of, in their work spaces or in their homes. They didn't want to have to see the men in their lives suffer under a female president. They've been living under male presidents their entire lives, but they know that men's egos are more fragile. They are frightened of the die-hard Trump supporters, of what they might do if Hillary is elected. They think Trump might actually be the safer choice, because Trump would keep America closer to the status-quo.

They are new mothers, exhausted from late night feedings. They watch Nick Jr. all day, not the news. The information that reaches them is filtered, distilled, distorted - if it reaches them at all. They trust their husbands, their parents, their pastors, who seem to make good points, who seem to know what they are talking about. They adopt the convictions of others because it takes less energy than to figure out what the issues are and how they feel about them.

They are elderly women, more afraid of what will happen now than what will happen in the future, a future they won't live to see. They've seen Republicans and Democrats come and go. They think, "Is one decade really so different than the next?" They have the wisdom of their years. They know that their day-to-day won't change much from one president to the next. They've seen the country survive wars; they know that we can survive anything.

They were sick of an election cycle that lasted two years. They were sick of the arguments on their Facebook feed. They cannot stand conflict. They try their best to smooth it over. They shut politics out of their world because it makes them ill, because they have already enough stress in their lives, because it only brings them heartache, because they don't have time for it, because they are told that their vote doesn't matter anyway.

They have never had enough confidence in themselves to trust their own opinions. They have never been nurtured and given the chance to form their own opinions. When they raise their hands in class or try to speak up at work, they are ignored in favor of their male counterparts. They think, "I must be stupid." They think, "Women must be stupid." They think, "What do I know about politics anyway?" They think, "What do women know about politics anyway?"

They are enthusiastic about Trump.

They are reluctant about Trump, but voted for him anyway.

I understand that some of these are contradictory assertions. But "white women who voted for Trump" is not a homogenous group any more than "white women who voted for Hillary" is. In fact, I have felt many of the above things myself, cycling through them throughout the day - using whatever thought patterns or behaviors are necessary to deal with the Sexism of the Moment, to calm my cognitive dissonance enough so that I can survive my day.

White women who voted for Trump, white women who voted for Hillary, white women who voted for third party candidates, white women who didn't vote at all - we are all the same in that we are all victims. We just cope with it differently.

I wanted Hillary Clinton to be the next president. I was excited at the idea of my future children looking at photos of presidents in their history textbooks (or, let's be honest, a Wikipedia article), and seeing, after a long line of old white men, a black president and then a female president. I was looking forward to telling them, "I voted for both of those presidents. My generation was the one who gave America Barack and Hillary back-to-back." I did not vote for Hillary solely because of her gender - but make no mistake that representation matters. I was looking forward to being represented by a fellow woman.

Tuesday night and Wednesday morning were heartbreaking. Maybe it's always this heartbreaking when the candidate you really wanted to win does not win - I don't know. This is my third presidential election, and the first one where the person I voted for lost. I have a feeling, however, that this is a particularly heartbreaking election to lose. Because it wasn't just one candidate against another candidate - but two very different sets of ideas. And the man who I saw as representing sexism, racism, homophobia, transphobia, xenophobia, and ableism was the man my country chose to elect as our next president.

It hurt. Of course it hurt. I cried Tuesday night, and I cried again Wednesday morning. I check my blood sugar every morning because I have high fasting glucose, and Wednesday it was higher than I'd ever seen before - 151. I immediately looked up on my phone if stress can effect blood sugar. It can.

But I wasn't just crying or stressed because the president I wanted to win did not win, or because I was afraid of what President Trump might do - to women, to minorities, to immigrants, to LGBTQ individuals, to natives, to everyone - though of course both of those worries did factor in. One of my greatest reasons for crying, however, was mourning. Mourning what could have been and mourning what is.

Hillary Clinton would have worked tirelessly for everyone. She knows that all women are victims of the patriarchy, even those who do not recognize their status, or those who try to ignore it, or those who (willingly or unwillingly) participate in perpetuating their own oppression. She would have bolstered the status of all women - even those who fought her tooth and nail, even those who did not want her help, even those who did not see what she was fighting for as "help" at all.

But that is not what we got. I knew several of those white women who were voting for Trump, and yet I still allowed myself to believe that we would not end up with Trump as our president-elect. I believed (naively) that enough women had come to recognize their oppression, vowed to fight it, and prioritized that fight above the other concerns in their life. I was wrong.

It deeply saddens me how many women willingly participate in their own demise. I don't like the joke my husband's relative said ("Remember: a woman voting Republican is like a chicken voting for Colonel Sanders") - not because it isn't true, but because of its flippant tone. It's not funny that Republican women believe in their second-class status. It's heartbreaking.

I know a lot of liberal women (especially women of color, for whom the symptoms of oppression are so much more obvious that it is hard to fathom how anyone could be blissfully unaware of them) are angry at the white women who voted for Trump. It is easier to be angry at people than it is to be angry at the system. But it is not their fault.

Not all victims are capable of recognizing and fighting their own oppression. The women who are blind to the reality of the world? The system made them that way. The women who follow all the patriarchal rules? The system made them that way, too.

Sexism works very hard at keeping women from recognizing their oppression, and at denying them access to the resources that would help them fight it. It has to. Women exist in equal (or slightly higher) numbers than men; sexism would not have endured for so long if it was not successful in those goals. Of course women perpetuate their own oppression. They were raised to.

I am not trying to make excuses, or say that people who voted for Trump (or who voted third party) should not be held accountable in some way. I don't know what that way is, but I can't think going around blaming demographics is going to do any good. You're not going to convince the white women who voted for Trump that they did something bad. You're probably not even going to convince them to label themselves Feminists. For many, to become Feminist would be to give up the one thing that has made their oppression, their lives bearable. Christianity, God, gives them hope and strength when times are shitty. How are they supposed to understand that it is also part of what contributes to their lives' shittiness?

Shaming women, telling them that they are supposed to pull themselves up by their bootstraps, regardless of the cost done to the personal lives, is not only unhelpful - but also anti-liberal. Lumping everyone together into demographics without considering their personal stories is counterproductive and insensitive both. It is not a very good way of getting more people enthused about politics - on the contrary, it will make these people angrier and less interested. They will disengage even more, they will deflect further into the oppressive Republican camp.

We need to come together, not pull each other apart.