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MiTHology (4.0)

  • TOP 10: Ranking my Childhood Cartoon Crushes

    January 9th, 2025

    And before you say it: yes, I am weird. No, I did not have many IRL friends growing up. Yes, something was and is wrong with me. 😀

    Of course, I’m not all the way off my rocker; I did have crushes on real people, too, the first of which was in third grade, on a boy who would later become one of my archnemeses in high school; and each one after that ended up just as badly. Disaster after disaster, crisis upon tragedy!! (Until I met my now-husband, that is.) Crushes on fictional people were, I found, so much more fun; so much less disappointing. Yes, it’s true that they are fictional, which is disappointing in and of itself; but if you have a vivid enough interior life, the company of fictional people can be quite fulfilling. So I always preferred fictional people. Which preference of mine was, I think, an early symptom of the AvPD that would only much later be diagnosed.

    I post this in the spirit of humiliating myself, because why not. I recently made a whole 3,000-word post about what an idiot I am, so may as well just drive the point home with these ten mind-blowingly-stupid examples.

    10. Sesshomaru (ca. 7th grade). This one’s in last place because, for one, I didn’t even watch Inuyasha, nor did I want to. I tried; it bored me. A friend of mine in elementary school liked it, and somehow via her I saw an image of Sesshomaru, and thought he was captivating, and proceeded to log onto AOL on the ol’ Family Computer and print off a bunch of pictures of him and tape them to my wall. All I know is, he’s some sort of dog-person creature and has a tail? A big fluffy one?? The tail was a turnoff even then, tbh, and I chose to pretend it didn’t exist.

    9. Buzz Lightyear (ca. 1st grade). My first real crush. I was obsessed. I have no idea why my first grade self found him so dreamy. I had the talking action figure and all the merch and even the sweatsuit from the Disney Store in the mall and everything. Who remembers the Disney Store?! I wasn’t even huge on Disney, necessarily – I was never a “Disney princess” girl – but I loved that place!

    8. Hideki from Chobits (7th grade). I think I just found him interesting to look at because Chobits was the first manga I ever actually read, and this was where I caved and finally admitted that I could see the appeal of the genre, which I had been shit-talking all year, looking down my nose at all my friends who were becoming manga-obsessed. Chobits was cute, I had to admit. Even though it still irritated me that I liked it at all. To this day I still feel conflicted about the genre: it’s such trash, so stupid – but some of it is so aesthetically pleasing.

    7. Johnny the Homicidal Maniac (7th grade). Disgusting, right? I am truly ashamed of how cool (and hot) I thought he was when I was in seventh grade. I positively adored him, and treasured a secret belief that I would be the only person he didn’t want to kill, that it would be he and I against the world. I cannot tell you how many hours I spent hiding in my room reading or just gazing at the Director’s Cut with my headphones on, listening to songs that reminded me of him.

    6. Clopin, a.k.a. The Puppet Guy, from Disney’s Hunchback of Notre Dame (2nd-3rd grade). I think it was the hair that did it for me.

    5. The mystery protagonist from the mystery manga I can’t remember (8th grade?). Maybe someone can help me with this!! It’s been driving me crazy. In 2003 or 4, maybe even ‘05, my best friend introduced me to a manga she’d found, which she knew I would like. I think it was by an American artist, a female. I’m pretty sure the artist had won some contest or prize and as a result got this, her first manga, published. It was a high school story about a guy who played guitar, and something supernatural happened to him – some magical companion started to follow him around, or something? Some kind of friendly spirit or demon? Pretty sure it was only one volume. I just remember the protagonist was gorgeous to me at the time, to such a degree that it made me deeply sad to look at, because he would never be real and even if he were he would never like me, which is perhaps why I put it away and blocked the whole manga out of my memory. Does this shoddy little description ring any bells to anyone?!

    4. Invader Zim (5th-6th grade). Yep, another JV creation. Nope, I’m not joking. He and I would take over the world together! I was extremely obsessed, and also super weird about keeping the obsession a secret, because I was so embarrassed for anyone to see me enjoying the show. It felt insane, isolating, desperate: in every way just like a grown-up addiction, but so childish and innocent. How weird, in retrospect: the lengths that I went to just to get a chance to catch a glimpse of that show! I still remember the original air date, although I didn’t watch it until it aired again on Sunday evening. I saw it kind of on accident – it came on after something else I’d been watching, and it was like: the world shifted beneath my feet, and suddenly nothing was the same, and I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I could seriously write a full book about my obsession with that show and how it affected my life.

    3. Rei Kashino from MARS (8th grade). Okay, I know I said earlier that anime/manga is trash, but MARS is the one exception. Beautiful story, beautiful characters, beautiful artwork, each page a composition, like a poem: absolute perfection. And hugely, hugely influential on me at that time. I’m embarrassed to admit that I can still clearly see its impact on my own writing. It also gave me some really unhealthy, unrealistic, starry-eyed ideas about what a romantic relationship ought to look like, hahaha. Alas, I still own all fifteen volumes, and still, if I pull one off the shelf and crack it open, I get immediately sucked in. One of the greatest love stories ever told, and I will die on this hill.

    And finally, in first place, we have:

    2 and 1: Miguel and Tulio from The Road to El Dorado (4th-5th grade). This one is a no brainer. Come on, they’re adorable! I made no secret of this crush, as I was still just a child. I even shared it with some of my friends at the time – we had the soundtrack on CD, and sang the songs together on the regular! Ah, to be so shameless again. And yes, in case you’re wondering, I did have beef with Chel (as well as a proto-girl-crush on her) because Tulio was my favorite. My 10 year old ass was ready to throw hands.

  • TOP 10: TV characters in a bake-off, Season 2

    January 8th, 2025

    You probably already saw Season One of this little concept, but, in case you just randomly stumbled upon this post, feel free to go check that one out for a bit of context/explanation.

    I wasn’t able to represent as many great characters and shows as I wanted, so, decided to produce Season Two!

    12. Asher from The Curse. I mean, sorry but pretty much his whole personality is “loser,” so it was to be expected that he’d go home first. No one even remembers what he baked. Perhaps it was a very, very tiny eclair. I feel bad for him.

    11. Zim from Invader Zim. The only reason he didn’t go home in week one was because Asher is such an incredible loser. Apparently Zim thought that winning a baking competition would lead to world domination, so he’s been discreetly asking his computer for “human recipes” using “human ingredients,” and the end result was something so gruesome and disturbing that it had to be blurred out for TV, one of the judges quit on the spot, and the other two passed out and threw up, respectively. Probably in his best interest that he left, because Holly could see through his human disguise from a mile away.

    10. Trent from Daria. Can he actually bake anything other than weed brownies? Evidently not. He and Freddy have obviously been high this whole time.

    9. Freddy (a.k.a. Fredward) from The Gentlemen. Not a serious baker, as he has never lifted a finger to do any sort of productive work in his life; he’s just here because he lost a bet. He doesn’t even know what any of these ingredients do, and has been drunk the whole time. His final “cake” was an unbaked vat of improperly mixed components, including a lot of booze. He’s spent most of his time here mercilessly picking on Dylan, Gilbert, Ryan, and Asher, while slinking around trying to avoid the menacing stare of Sims.

    8. Jack Rooney from The Three Body Problem. He was not too bad, and I think he could have gone a lot further. His cockiness and humor made him adorable, plus he had a gift for self-promoting by incorporating products from his brand “Jack’s Snacks” into all of his bakes, which was a fun sweet-and-salty twist. He, Dylan, and Ryan got along well.

    7. Dylan from Severance. This guy is quite a decent baker, a bit of a know-it-all, and never seemed stressed by the time crunch like the other bakers. His bakes were always technically very proficient, but the judges thought his cake was a bit dry and bland in this last challenge.

    6. Gilbert from Bodkin. Gilbert has been a great contestant, really cheerful and upbeat, and bakes with a lot of heart, but kind of clumsy. His tart shell fell apart today, and tart filling oozed out everywhere in a sloppy unappealing mess. The other contestants are sorry to see him go (except for Sims, who finds him intolerable, and Bev, who hates everyone), because he was the type to abandon his own station to help others out when they were in a pinch.

    5. Tobert from Only Murders in the Building. He has a lot of skill, and is a fan favorite, especially among women, because of his striking blue eyes. His bakes often incorporate daring flavors and exotic ingredients which he’s encountered on his world travels as a documentary filmmaker – tonka bean, pandan, saffron, curry spice blends, stuff like that, and it almost always works. He didn’t make any critical mistakes, just got bested by the outstanding talent of the remaining four.

    4. Ryan Two from Dark Matter. It’s one thing after another for this Ryan!! First he wakes up from a hangover in a completely different life where he’s a rich and famous award-winning neuroscientist, and now he’s on a baking competition show? It keeps getting weirder and weirder! But he’s freaking brilliant, and knows all about chemical compounds and such, so he’s turned out to be an amazing baker – his pastry, especially, is flawless, and his plated desserts very sophisticated and modern. He didn’t expect to make it this far, and is still confused and just wants to go home, so he’s not disappointed.

    Presenting our finalists:

    3. Bev Keane from Midnight Mass. She may be insufferable, but she knows what she’s doing in the kitchen; her style is rustic, traditional, nostalgic, and just perfectly sweet. She could have won, but she got disqualified after the first challenge because she was caught trying to poison her fellow finalists (our winner was the one who caught her).

    2. Robert Sims from Silo. He’s not great at baking, it’s just that everyone is too scared of him to send him home. And he’s relied on covert comms from his wife to talk him through a lot of these recipes. It’s pretty obvious by now, but the judges are afraid to call him out, because, I mean, look at him, he looks like he would not hesitate to chuck you off a cliff without warning and then just go about his day like nothing happened.

    But even he was no match for:

    1. Holly Gibney from The Outsider. How could she not win? She knows everything. She has some kind of sixth sense about what’s going to happen with any given thing, like, a few episodes ago she randomly threw out a whole batch of cupcake batter for no apparent reason, she just knew something was going to go wrong with it, so she remade it just in time. Stuff like that keeps happening with her. Fan theories abound. Even Ryan and Sims are intimidated by her knowledge. She doesn’t seem too excited about the victory or the prize money, and is plainly annoyed by all the confetti and fanfare.

  • TOP 10: Most Memorable Sweet Treats of Mith’s Life

    January 7th, 2025

    This one doesn’t need much of a prelude. I love sweets; always have. As a kid, I always wanted chocolate with every meal, even breakfast, nay, especially breakfast (chocolate chip waffles! chocolate chip muffins! chocolate Pop-Tarts, especially raw out of the wrapper!). I’d ask for “dessert” after every lunch and dinner, even if that was just a couple of Hershey Kisses or Oreos to dip in milk (chef’s kiss). Ah, the childlike innocence of enjoying chocolate without any fear of weight gain, back before your eating disorder moved in. We’ll never get that back.

    Because of all that, I have had a complicated relationship with sweet treats for pretty much all of my adult life, as most women do I guess. But, the cool part is, all those years of going without any and all “bad foods” as a rule, gave me this cool ability to actually enjoy food more in theory than in practice, most of the time: I spent so much time ogling and lusting after forbidden foods, that it became a whole hobby, more deeply psychologically engaging and satisfying than simply eating those foods had ever been. It’s probably why I enjoy watching baking shows, looking at cookbooks and still lifes, and writing about food, so much to this day – much more than actually making or eating it, even now that I’m pretty well “recovered” and no longer afraid to eat a cookie or some fro-yo here and there, depending on my mental state and the time of day.

    So, the following sweet treats are ones that I’ve imprinted in my memory so I can enjoy them in my brain any time I want:

    11. The Pecan Pie on the special Thanksgiving menu at this lodge/hotel dining room in the mountains, where I sometimes went for weekend getaways with my family as a child. This was the first time I ever had pecan pie, which is the quintessential holiday pie, and it made quite the impression; I was at an age where I was getting slightly more adventurous with food, but hadn’t yet hit puberty and started to overanalyze it. Hence, I took a slice of pecan pie from the buffet. And, how perfect it was. I’ve only tried to make pecan pie once since, and it fell very short. This pie is the only thing that I remember about that Thanksgiving.

    10. The Dairy Queen Moolatté, mocha flavor. There was a DQ in the town where I went to high school, and the absolute best moment of my weekday as a HS senior was leaving school, driving into town in my own car, and going to get a Moolatté with my own money. This was also during my first “revenge ugly” phase, so I was not only avoiding looking at calories, I was all but trying to gain weight. I spent way too much of my paycheck on those stupid Moolattés.

    9. This boozy sundae at a fancy little downtown bar in the city where I went to college, a place that specialized in dessert cocktails. This ice cream sundae came in a chocolate bowl, and was soaked in like three or four different boozy sauces. I only went to this bar one time (it was not my typical style, I was more of a “$5 wine out of a Styrofoam cup alone in my parked car” type of girl), it was on a date, and I don’t remember much at all of the date or the guy, but I do remember the sundae and its chocolate bowl. I don’t drink alcohol anymore, but if I did, it just might be worth the eight-hour drive to get this sundae one more time.

    8. The Subway chocolate chip cookie. Right?? This is just about a perfect, classic chocolate chip cookie, enough said.

    7. The Coconut Macaroons at the bakery of the grocery store where I had my first job. This was a small boutique grocery specializing in imported/international foods, and they had an awesome deli and bakery. The almond macaroons were great, too, but the coconut ones stand out more in my memory. They were big and fat and round and dipped in dark chocolate; this was the first time I ever loved coconut.

    6. Peanut Butter Cup Fudge, a recipe that made the rounds in my family long ago, which my cousin and I, who were the same age and good friends at the time, both loved. It had a layer of chocolate fudge and a layer of peanut butter fudge. Simple, but perfect. Peanut butter and chocolate is the undisputed best flavor combo of all time.

    5. The chocolate chip cookie at Chick Fil A. Even better than the Subway one, because it’s thicker and holds its structure when you bite it. I’ve tried a couple of copycat recipes, and they were okay, but not the real deal. If anyone knows of a really good copycat recipe, send it my way, please and thank you. As a vegetarian, I don’t eat anything else off the CFA menu, except their Diet Lemonade, which I have been known to put away by the gallon.

    4. The White Chocolate Cranberry Macadamia cookie at that same grocery store bakery as #7. This is such a perfect combination of flavors and textures: tart/chewy, sweet/buttery, and salty/crunchy all at once. A true masterpiece. It’s like a song. I’ve tried to make them at home over the years, but nothing rivals those big, chewy, bakery-fresh ones in my memory.

    3. Sweet Frog. The key to Sweet Frog-maxxing is, you get both peanut butter and chocolate yogurts, then pile on pretty much all of the chocolate-themed and nut-themed toppings (especially the cookie dough bites and the chocolate caramel cups), and then whipped creme and chocolate sauce. My husband and I, before we had kids, used to live close enough to walk to Sweet Frog, and we did so fairly often, so, it’s a really lovely memory for me. And it tastes even better knowing that it’s a Christian company.

    2. My Mom’s homemade fudge that she used to make when I was a kid. Just basic, simple chocolate fudge. My mom never added nuts (because when I was a kid I liked things plain and smooth, nothing crunchy – like, my favorite candy bar was a Hershey milk chocolate). For my 10th birthday, I brought a batch of this fudge to school, and for a day I was actually popular, and my teacher begged my mom for the recipe, which made me feel great.

    And finally:

    1. The brownie at this ice cream shop in my city growing up (coincidentally, right across the street from the little grocery store, the one with the awesome bakery, where I would eventually become a cashier). I was introduced to their brownie in what must have been 1998 or ‘99 by a friend of mine in elementary school who raved about it, and I didn’t believe it could really be all that great, until one day when she got a chance to prove it: I was hanging out at her house, and her parents took us to this place, which was near her Dad’s work, and bought us each one of the famous brownies. They came in these tall clear plastic cups and were served with a spoon, because they were absolutely swimming in hot fudge sauce, so the brownies got all soft and mushy, almost pudding-like. So rich, it was impossible to finish the whole thing in one go, but, what an unforgettable chocolate marvel that was. Tragically, the shop appears to have shut down during covid. “It exists now…only in my memory,” which, tbh is probably better anyway.

  • Ranking the PAW Patrol Pups as Grooming Clients

    January 7th, 2025

    As some of you may know, I was, in a past life, a dog groomer at a corporate salon, for about seven years. While I do not miss clocking in for a job, I do miss some things about it: hanging out with my coworkers, mostly. Socially it could be a pretty toxic, gossippy environment, but virtually all of my coworkers were genuinely lovely individuals, good-hearted, who, despite the communal petty bitchiness (inevitable, when you put a bunch of twentysomething women in a fishbowl together and apply pressure), actually looked out for each other; and their company and conversation could often make a workday lots of fun. I also miss certain customers: many of the pet parents were gracious and pleasant and really appreciated what we did for them, even when it wasn’t perfect. Bless those people! I still think often of a lot of my clients from those days.

    And obviously, I miss the doggos! (And yes, I still say “doggo,” I’m old.) Getting to interact with that many dogs per day was truly a privilege. I’ve always liked animals, but being a groomer really deepened my appreciation and love for dogs, both as individuals and as a species.

    But, I left that job almost five years ago to stay home with my kids, who are now 4, 3, and 1.5, and are, predictably, all huge fans of the show PAW Patrol. Now, normally, I don’t let my kids absorb this kind of obnoxious brainrot, but, listen, sometimes when you’re solo-parenting three toddlers, and then you get sick for a few days, you do what you got to do to survive.

    Thus, my days are no longer full of real dogs, but rather animated superhero ones, and I can’t help but reflect on what it might have been like if I’d met them in a past life. Here are the PAW Patrol pups ranked in order of how much I would like to have them on my grooming table:

    10. Everest. I feel almost traitorous putting her in last place, because she’s my girls’ favorite, but, anyone who’s ever been a groomer knows that grooming a Husky is not for the faint of heart! Currently having flashbacks to a bathing bunker full of flying white hair (you’d have to wear a mask, or just wrap your nose and mouth in a towel, balaclava-style, to avoid inhaling it) while the wildly-dancing Husky’s shrill, relentless song of protest pierces through the roar of the velocity dryer, and you just know that they can hear her all over the store, and they probably think you’re torturing her. Then later the drains would all be clogged with wads of hair the size of my head. And even after all that, the dog would still go home slightly damp. I’d be up for it on a good day when I was fully caffeinated, but, a Husky will take it out of you for sure.

    9. Chase. Nothing against GSDs, but I’m wary of them, since the only serious bite I ever got in seven years was from a GSD. Plus, they are so big, and tend to be very high-energy, especially the young ones. If you see one of these on your schedule, get ready for a full body workout.

    8. Rubble. Brachycephalic dogs are, actually, my favorite, as you may know, and whenever a Bulldog or a Boston came in, it absolutely made my day! However, it was also always a bit high stress when they came in. Because short-nosed dogs, especially English bulldogs, are prone to respiratory and cardiac issues, which makes them a poor candidate for blow-drying or really anything slightly stressful at all. Basically, if the dog showed the slightest signs of getting worked up, we’d have to send them home unfinished, which always pains a groomer’s heart. And because of their health concerns you can’t even kennel them, so you’d have to sit there with them waiting for their Mom to come get them while your other clients are sitting in the kennels, waiting for you to finish their haircuts, and the clock is ticking. Still, Rubble is definitely the pup I’d most want to adopt.

    7. Rocky. Rocky is actually my favorite character on the show, and he looks like he’d be fun to groom (I loved working with those scruffy, wiry coats). But, only thing is, he’s afraid of getting wet. That’s like his whole schtick in the show. It’s never fun bathing a dog who hates the bath, and good luck doing a good haircut on a dog who’s not clean.

    6. Zuma. I love labs! They’re so goofy and dopey and affectionate. But, they can be tiring to work with. They’re so playful, and they’re such solid chonks with such thick hair that it can just be really exhausting to get them all the way clean and dry. When they don’t want to cooperate, it can feel like wrestling a hairy walrus. (As you are probably starting to see, I am more of a small dog person.)

    5. Sweetie. She’s definitely spoiled, so I expect she might be snippy to work with; plus, she’s a Westie, and in my experience, those little buttheads just love to bite! However, I like their coats, and in general I typically really liked working with the prissy little white floofy things, especially when they were well taken care of at home. A dog who gets brushed at home daily and professionally groomed regularly, is almost always a dream to work with. And Sweetie’s pet parent is literally the Princess of Barkingburg, so, let’s be real, she’s probably the best-groomed of all these pups.

    4. MarshaIl. Clumsiness aside, he would probably be a pretty easy client. A Dalmatians’s hair is so short that, like a Pit Bull, they’d air-dry in mere minutes. A quick rub with a rubber curry brush and he’d be good to go. Although, Marshall’s a klutz, so he’d probably be one of those dogs who’s always sidestepping off the table, so, you might need to beseech one of your coworkers to stand on his other side while you work on him (not an uncommon occurrence in the salon).

    3. Skye. A cockapoo is almost always a great client. They’re sweet-natured, and most of the ones I met were well taken care of and well trained, which I assume Skye would be, I mean, look, she’s only a puppy and already flies a helicopter, so. Plus, they’re small and cute and their poodlish hair is so fun to work with.

    2. Tracker. Some people are wary of chihuahuas, but I always loved them, short haired and long haired alike! They’re easy to groom, and yes, they can be feisty, but with that cute little face and big ears, it’s hard to take their rage seriously. Tracker seems chill and eager to help, so he’d probably be a dream to work with.

    And finally, my pick for most desirable client:

    1. Liberty. My heart always leapt for joy when I saw a Longhaired Dachshund on my schedule! Their coat and stature make them really fun and easy to work with (I preferred the wiry ones, and Liberty looks more silky, but still). They’re pretty hardy for their size, so not likely to be sickly or stressful on the grooming table. True, sometimes they put up a fight for their nail trim, but honestly, an angry sausage is no problem – I’d much rather wrestle an angry Oscar Meyer Wiener than an angry GSD or lab. If Liberty’s mom called for an appointment, I’d definitely book her on myself.

  • Is it ok to be ugly?

    December 30th, 2024

    Are we morally obligated to look good? This question has bothered me since basically the onset of puberty/my ED (which both occurred, unsurprisingly, at the same exact time), and continues to bother me now, twenty-odd years later, as I am seriously considering chopping all my hair off.

    I chopped all my hair off once before, in like 2015 it must have been, around the time I started trying to get sober and read the novel “Dietland” and basically really leaned into this kind of “fuck societal beauty standards,” “imma do me” philosophy, which was super freeing. However, short hair looked awful on me. At work, I was constantly getting mistaken for a dude (it didn’t help that I have a deepish voice, big hands, and a flat chest). I looked terrible, like, seriously, and after a few months, when I got into a relationship (the same guy who was crazy enough to date (and then propose to) my unstable ass was also crazy enough to find me “attractive” even with super short hair, or so he claims; I still don’t buy it) and started wanting to look nice again, I couldn’t wait for the hair to grow back in. I vowed never to chop it all off again!

    So why am I wanting to do it again, a decade later? Because: I had three kids in three years, and postpartum hair loss has done a real number on me, like, it’s bad, I’m not exaggerating when I say that I think my hair volume has decreased by at least 70%. It’s a tragedy; it looks terrible; I don’t have the time, energy, or funds to “take care” of it (I’ve always been a simple girl w/r/t hair care: just shampoo, conditioner, and maybe a leave-in conditioner – too much hair product gives me the ick, I hate gels and aerosol sprays and anything that makes my hair feel like it’s got stuff in it; and this routine worked fine for the first thirty-one years of my life). So, my hair sucks, it’s getting worse, I am powerless to do anything practical about it, and every time I see it, touch it, or think about it, this mess that is stuck to my head, it causes me great emotional distress; which means, as far as I can tell, my options are either wrap it up or chop it off. I worry about wrapping it, frankly, because I am white and I’m afraid I’ll get accused of cultural appropriation and/or mistaken for a cancer patient. So, chop it off, then?

    But is that even okay to do? In my faith community, women don’t cut their hair short. Not because we believe it’s a sin, it’s just a cultural norm. Short hairstyles on women only became popular for Western women in the 20th century, along with some forms of immodest dress; in a way, bobs and pixies were I guess like an expression of “rebellion against the patriarchy,” which attitude is very much not in keeping with my faith. Women are expected to present as feminine and men as masculine (which also means that long hair on men is frowned upon, which, suffice it to say I have a few feelings about as well, lol). So, if I chop my hair off, I’ll probably get some funny looks, and people will probably judge me. It’s not like I can go to Mass wearing a t-shirt that says “it’s not a political statement, it’s postpartum hair loss,” lol.

    But obviously if a woman has to chop her hair for medical reasons, that’s different, right? But, if I still have a choice (as in, my head is not bald with patches of hair, it’s still covered in hair, just very very thinly), am I not morally obligated to choose the option that will look nicer and more feminine?

    .

    In the Catholic world, we take Beauty very seriously. The Beautiful is right up there with the Good and the True. Beauty reminds us of God. Furthermore, Catholics are very “bodily.” We believe that the body and its senses are, basically, good. We are not a soul trapped in a meat prison (despite my frequent jokes about my meat prison or, as I like to call it, meat tank – “not a tradwife, but a tread wife,” that’s me) – our soul and body are inextricable. We are both, and our bodies will be resurrected in the next life (which is why we are not cool with cremation). This “bodiliness” is also why we like our feast days, our outward signs and symbols, our beautiful ornate churches, and all that. God made us physical creatures with the capacity to experience pleasure and appreciate beauty!

    As such, we have a duty to take care of ourselves. After all, our bodies are “temples of the Holy Spirit,” so we ought to dress and act like it. St. Francis de Sales says in “Introduction to the Devout Life” that his advice to his spiritual advisees is to always be the best-dressed, but most simply and inconspicuously dressed, person in the room. I.e., we should strive at all times to be clean, groomed, tidy, sensible, pleasing to the eye without being immodest or showy.

    In this same vein, in the contemporary world of Catholic influencers and social media, you’ll often see discussions/reels addressing the subject of whether spouses are obligated to stay in good physical shape for their partner. (Which, in this era of “body positivity” and anti-diet culture, is pretty controversial.) And the consensus is: yes, they are: it is your duty, as a spouse, to make yourself as attractive as possible for your spouse. (This goes both ways, before you go accusing anyone of sexism.)

    Which is not at all to say “you should marry someone solely for their appearance” or “if they put on weight, you can emotionally abuse or even divorce them” – those are definitely not the Catholic way. The point is, marriage is just as much physical as it is spiritual, therefore as spouses we have a responsibility to maintain that aspect of our marriage. If your partner doesn’t make an effort to take care of themselves, not only is that not good for them personally, it’s not good for their spouse either. “The two become one flesh,” etc.

    Obviously, spouses have a special obligation to take care of and look after each other, to consider each other’s preferences. But even non-married people have a responsibility to take care of themselves and look presentable. (And this is not saying that people with better genes are morally superior. What you’re born with has no moral weight; it’s what you choose to do with it. A naturally gorgeous, skinny woman who doesn’t wash or groom herself and goes out in sweats and a t-shirt is failing, while a naturally homely, chubby woman who styles her hair, cleans herself up, and puts on a nice outfit, is succeeding.) This, as far as I have gleaned, is the Catholic POV on physical appearance and self-care.

    Now, for me, and probably for a lot of women of my generation, and perhaps women in general (but I think especially those of us who came of age in the era of the Special K Diet and America’s Next Top Model, and had it ingrained into our young minds that thin and beautiful = superior), this can be a huge turn-off. Everything in us might hear “you have a moral obligation to be pretty” and, as a trauma response, retaliate with great violence and anger. “Oh no you don’t! I’ma stop you right there, don’t even try that one on me! I did my time in that hellscape, and I’m still healing from my trauma! You know what, I ain’t morally obligated to look good for anyone, my body is my business and my business only!!” If, like me, you ever went through a “revenge ugliness” phase (I’ve had a couple), you certainly get it.

    Revenge ugliness is still something I have an inclination for. In fact, I probably let this inclination get the better of me, more often than not (it’s why my entire wardrobe looks like oversized trash bags). Like many of us who wrestled for many years with an ED and are tired, I am over the pressure to look sexy and appealing. I also hate the sensation of tight-fitting clothes – so many years of being so painfully body-conscious have made it so that I cannot relax in a fitted top. It gives me the ick. (This is also, apparently, not uncommon among women with ED history or body image issues.) We just don’t want to be perceived at all (also at play here, in my case, are the AvPD and my desire to dress modestly – although, if I’m being honest, my trash bag maxi skirts are only 20% for “modesty” and 80% to conceal my most hated feature, my hideous legs). So, revenge ugliness: just leave me alone to rot in my trash bag.

    I felt the same about my super short hair, when I had it. It felt liberating. There’s something really comforting about revenge ugliness: setting oneself free from the male gaze. Back when I used to be really thin, wear makeup, and dress more prettily, I used to get more attention, more kindness, more interest, more acknowledgement in public spaces. It’s kind of cool to know that, if I cared, I could change people’s perception of me, but I don’t, so, it’s like a nice cloak of invisibility. It’s like opting out of this cruel game that all women are thrust into from the onset of puberty, whether they want to play or not.

    But: revenge ugliness is not a Godly attitude to have. The Godly attitude would be, I guess, an honest appraisal of one’s naturally good and less-good features, and dressing accordingly, in a way that is modest, aesthetically pleasing, and demonstrates that you have some respect for yourself, your neighbors, and your daily life. So, for me, probably not trash bags and a buzz cut.

    But: does God expect me to make myself that uncomfortable, just for the sake of being aesthetically pleasing? Does He expect me to just suck it up and deal with the emotional and even physical discomfort of living with my hideous thinning, scraggly hair, because at least the length is somewhat “feminine?” Does He expect me, as a married person, to exchange my oversized baggy tops for something snug and cute that gives me the major sensory ick, just because it would be more ladylike and my husband would prefer it?

    I’m not sure about that. I think God expects us to do the best we can with what we’ve got. Psychological and emotional baggage is part of “what we’ve got.” Maybe I wasn’t born with this baggage, but it’s become a part of me, and now it is among the factors that I must take into consideration when deciding how to present myself. I think, if dressing a certain way is significantly uncomfortable for a person, they probably aren’t expected to dress that way (with some exceptions, of course, like, if someone is super uncomfortable wearing anything more modest than underwear, they should probably seek psychiatric treatment, as there are certain rules that simply must be observed: for example, women have to wear long dresses and cover their heads in church, whether they are comfortable or not – however, there are such a variety of headcoverings and materials to choose from that realistically everyone can find something that agrees with them). As long as we’re not being disrespectful and/or violating some basic societal convention, we probably have some leeway in how exactly we choose to dress. Especially under extenuating circumstances: if you’re sick, or just had a baby, or disabled and unable to keep up with self-care. God only expects us to do the best we can with what we’ve got.

    So, maybe the trash bags can stay, as long as they’re clean and tidy and wrinkle-free.

    But, would chopping all my hair off constitute a violation of societal convention? Would it be disrespectful? Would I be prioritizing a selfish desire (for comfort, for my own pleasure and relief) over my duty (to look feminine, to respect my husband’s preferences (because, come on, every straight man prefers long hair))?

    Believe me! If I could have long hair, I would. I don’t want to rebel against the patriarchy. My hair is a travesty, at this point, and it’s not a thing of “beauty” by any stretch of the imagination — but would it be even worse if it were shorter? I’m on the fence.

    Well, damn. I was hoping that writing all this out might help clarify the best course of action, but alas. I still can’t tell if the desire to chop is the old “revenge ugliness” urge coming up again, or if I honestly think it’d be for the best given my circumstances. — Or maybe just a little bit of revenge ugliness is acceptable, within certain parameters?

  • Toddlers at Mass: ok or no?

    December 28th, 2024

    A few days ago, I saw a post on one of the Catholic IG pages I follow – a nice little post saying something like (I paraphrase): “let’s encourage parents of small children when we see them struggling at Mass! Children should be welcome in the presence of the Lord, He said so Himself!” A nice sentiment, trying to reassure us parents of noisy, squirmy future saints.

    And then, predictably, who do we find in the comment section but a bunch of young men (whose bios mostly said “Class of ‘23,” “Class of ‘26” or some such) saying: “no! parents need to control their kids!” “Teach your kids to behave! Kids need to be taught how to be quiet and sit still!” “Parents of noisy young kids are lazy and selfish! learn to control your spawn or don’t take them in public spaces!” “if your kids are acting up it’s because you’re a bad parent!”

    I have a lot of feelings about this.

    For one, to these young men: please, go finish your homework, and report back in 10 years or so when you have some actual parenting experience. But, self-righteous college kids aren’t the only ones filing this complaint, so I’d like to take this opportunity to respond to anyone and everyone who’s out there accusing parents of littles of “not disciplining their children” or “not teaching their kids how to behave at Mass.”

    Listen: the tl;dr of it is this: we are teaching our children. They are learning. The very word “learning” implies a process, a learning curve. Children below the age of approximately four require plenty of time and practice to learn this skill, and for some, who are more hyperactive or stubborn by nature, it is actually impossible for them to sit quietly for over an hour. You cannot expect them to show up to Mass one day already knowing what to do.

    Now, I will admit that parents of disruptive, unruly kids should step out. Most churches have a cry room or a nursery or at least a vestibule or lobby. Just because we have little kids who are struggling, does not mean we are entitled to ruin Mass for everyone else and make life hard for the Priest.

    And it is also true that we do need to be making an effort to teach our kids. Don’t be sitting there zoned out while your toddler is running up and down the aisle. Catch that little goblin and take him out! This is especially true of children over age 4-5 or so. Unless they’re special needs, by that point, they do have the mental capacity to follow instructions and sit quietly. If your kids are 7, 8, 9 and making a ton of noise playing with plastic toys in the pews and you’re not shushing them, then yes, sorry, I am judging you and probably even giving you the stink eye.

    But those of us with preschoolers and toddlers – either help us out, or leave us alone. We are trying here. Give us a break. Please go read a book and learn about how a toddler’s brain works before you come at us about silencing our kids.

    Speaking of books, a while ago I read a really good book from the ‘50s called How To Raise Good Catholic Children or something like that (highly recommend, for moms, btw), and in it, the author (an American mom of like 13 kids) says that babies and toddlers should stay home – that it is neither normal, good, nor necessary to bring babies/kids under kindergarten age to Mass! I guess in that time, people just stayed home with little kids – parents alternated going to Mass with the older kids, or whatever. This very pious woman, writing in the ‘50s, talked like it was simply weird and silly to bring toddlers to Mass, as it would just be disruptive, and besides, parents of young kids are exempt from the Sunday obligation if they don’t have childcare options.

    Honestly, thank you to this writer. I don’t know why this custom changed in modern America. These days there’s this huge, well-meaning pressure on parents to “bring your little kids to Mass! Expose them to it early! They will receive so many graces just by being there, and it’s important for them to see their parents at Mass,” etc. In a way, this pressure annoys me even more than the haters telling us we’re bad parents because our 3 year olds make noise. This toxically-positive “bring your kids! they are welcome! don’t let anything stop you!” attitude really creates a massive sense of pressure for us parents of little kids, as if we’re failing our kids and setting them up for a life of sin if we’re not bringing them to Mass weekly from the time they are born.

    And I see the results of this pressure in the online Catholic Moms places where I hang out. The absolute suffering that some moms go through to make it to Sunday Mass, whether they’re in the first trimester and horribly sick, or they have multiple toddlers and a baby and no help and they’re trying to wrangle them all and keep everyone quiet – forget being present for the Mass! It just becomes a battle that moms grit their teeth and suffer through weekly, trying to keep their kids calm while feeling the judgment of everyone around them. “But they’re getting so many graces just by being here!” Maybe so, but honestly, an innocent toddler will probably be okay receiving those ever-available graces later on once it doesn’t require such a Herculean effort from their mom.

    I see Catholic moms these days in some kind of competition with each other for who’s the toughest. “How soon did you take your newborn to Mass?” “I took mine a week after she was born.” “Oh, well I took mine 3 days after, I’d had a c section and I was in agony the whole time but I did it!” “I took mine the day we got discharged from the hospital, had to sit on a pillow and couldn’t kneel and didn’t hear a word of the Mass, but at least I was there!” What ever happened to Churching of Women, a tradition which honors the six-week recovery period that God has written into a woman’s biology, a period which is recognized and honored in cultures around the world. New moms need to stay home and rest.

    Give moms a break. We need to stop pitting them against each other in the suffering olympics. Sickness, recovery, and childcare are all valid exemptions. We’re not holier than anyone else for forcing ourselves to go to Mass when we’re not well or able enough. Winning the suffering olympics will not make you a saint.

    And it’s the same with bringing little kids to Mass. Every other post on these forums is “how do I get through Mass? My kids are x, y, and z years old and it’s so hard on me and my husband!” And you inevitably get one-uppy comments like “oh well my kids are x, y, z, a, b, c, d, and e years old, and I take them all by myself because Dad’s in the choir; all you have to do is just… ” (which advice doesn’t work for every kid all the time). The pressure to “bring your kids!” really creates a toxic mindset among Catholic moms, like if we just try harder, suffer more, we’ll be holy like these other moms who appear to be doing it better. I even saw several moms boasting about how they took their babies/toddlers to Midnight Mass on Christmas, because they just hate to miss it (because they’re sooo holy and devout!). A newborn, I can understand, because they sleep at weird hours anyway, but an 18-month old?? At midnight? Do you really think God expects that of you and your poor kid? Just go to the Mass during the day, to fulfill your obligation!

    But, and I’ll keep saying it: caring for littles does constitute an exemption! If it’s seriously too hard, you’re off the hook!

    That being said, I do bring my little kids to regular Sunday Mass – because of this societal pressure, and because everyone else at my parish does it. But do I wish the customs were different, that I weren’t expected to bring them? With a passion!

    Given that there’s this pressure from all sides, our fellow parishioners need to cut us some slack. “Don’t feed your kids snacks in Mass! Don’t bring plastic toys! They should sit quietly and look at a picture book about the Mass, and if they get bored, then you’re just not helping them enough!”

    I agree that snacks in the presence of the Lord are not a good idea — at all. I play this one by ear, personally; it depends on the parish. I would never dream of feeding my kids snacks during the TLM! But, when we were still attending the NO, if a quiet snack of some kind kept my kid from screaming, I’d give one. Because which would you rather I do, give them a quiet snack or just let them scream? (And yes, I would give them breakfast beforehand, and a snack in the car on the way here, and yes, I would always clean up the fallen crumbs in the pew after.) Same goes for toys. Absolutely don’t bring noisemaker toys or anything electronic, but if a plastic horse or a dragon puppet keeps my kid from screaming for a couple minutes, best believe I’m packing that sucker in the diaper bag.

    “You should be teaching them the parts of the Holy Mass! Of course they’ll get bored if you’re not engaging them.” LISTEN. I try. I educate my kids about the faith constantly, it’s a huge part of their life. My three year old, she already knows the Our Father, the Hail Mary, and the Glory Be by heart, but when she’s already bored and restless and fidgety? She DOES NOT CARE. My almost-two year old, who can ID pictures of Jesus and Mary he’s never seen before, and kisses the crucifix all on his own? When he’s bored and fidgety, cares EVEN LESS. I try, nonetheless, and this is usually how it goes:

    Me, whispering: Hey, look! Did you hear that bell ringing? Do you know what that means?

    3, screaming, thrashing away from me, grabbing at my veil: Mooooom! No! NOOOO! I want to go outSIDE!!!

    Or: me, whispering, pointing: Look, buddy, see up there? who’s that on the cross?

    1.5: [starts to scream until I let go of him, then once free, runs off, laughing, and starts trying to mess with neighbor’s personal belongings]

    Just one of these would be a challenge, but both at the same time? Come on now. What are we supposed to do?

    Fine. Maybe I’m just a terrible parent. Call me what you will, I’ve tried everything. But keep in mind that my four-year-old sits quietly through a full ninety-minute High Mass more than 90% of the time, so am I really that bad, or are kids below a certain age just not designed to sit still and quiet for that long.

    “But Mith, my two and three year old sit perfectly quiet and still, it’s not that hard, you just have to train them–”

    QUIET! Your kids are not my kids. Congrats!, I’m thrilled for you that you birthed such well-behaved children, gold star and a cookie for the holiest mom ever! But this illogical debate tactic is called survivor’s bias: “I had an okay time, so everyone else should too.”

    Moms of young kids are between a rock and a hard place here, where we must either (a) enlist in the suffering olympics and subject ourselves to the judgment of our neighbors by bringing our little kids to Mass, or (b) be treated as if we are not only failing our kids, but sinning by missing Mass, when in fact childcare is a valid exemption and no one ever talks about this fact!! Why does no one ever talk about this fact?

    Get this! One time I was even talking to a therapist (a fellow Catholic), and in conversation I mentioned my struggles with wrangling the kids at Mass, and her response (to me, her therapy patient, who struggles with crippling fear of judgment from others) was: “oh, one time I saw this mom at Mass whose toddler kept throwing his toy, and she kept giving it back to him – I wanted to smack her! What an idiot!” Excuse me? I was like, well what if the alternative is the kid screeching if he doesn’t get his toy back? Do you think Mom wants to be leaning over and fetching the damn toy over and over? No, she’s probably doing whatever it takes to keep the kid from screaming! Would you rather the kid screech? Seriously! (Except, I only said that in my head while laughing in agreement, because I am afraid of confrontation and also incapable of being open & honest in therapy, lol.)

    Give moms a break!

    I know there are sometimes individuals who have auditory issues, like folks with autism or something, for whom the sound of little kids’ voices at Mass is very triggering. I am sorry for these people, I’m sure it’s awful and highly frustrating (and as I said, I do agree that parents need to make an effort and utilize the cry room), but unfortunately, I also don’t think it’s fair for such individuals to expect the whole world to bend to accommodate their unique needs. If one needs a quieter Mass, one can come to the earlier Mass, or on a weekday, or if it’s severe, talk to their Priest about a health-related exemption and possible alternatives.

    So please, if you see a mom of littles who’s clearly trying, clearly fighting a battle: be nice to her. Help her out if you can, or offer an encouraging word after Mass. (If you see a mom who’s neglecting her 8, 9, 10 year olds and letting them dink around and cause a ruckus in Mass: by all means, judge away.) But I don’t want to hear anyone, especially know-it-all young men with zero parenting experience, yapping about how moms need to do better.

  • Is it ok to have kids when you’re older?

    December 27th, 2024

    TW: I am Catholic, and as such am opposed to birth control, IVF, surrogacy, abortion, etc., all of which I will mention in this post.

    This should be an easy one, lol. This post is more of a vent than a reasoning/figuring out type of post like some of my other SITVs.

    Some people – quite a lot of people out there, it seems – apparently think it’s unethical for parents past a certain age to have kids. Unethical! Wow.

    As a mom, I’m on the older side myself: I gave birth to my first when I was 30, and have had two more since, and, God willing, would love to have even more. But now, I’m officially in the dreaded “Mid Thirties,” when, according to the Internet, fertility takes a nosedive, and women are basically used up and devoid of value (unless, of course, you’re very rich and can afford to make yourself look 20something still). Past the Mid-Thirties, you’d better get your tubes tied or be on a reliable birth control (if any man still wants to sleep with you, that is, which, good luck with that, grandma), because any kid of yours has a super high chance of being disabled or different, and we can’t have that; how inconvenient, how un-glamorous. That is the prevailing attitude online.

    And IRL, too, it seems. At least where I live. I’m in a pretty “country” area where most new moms seem to be in the 18-25 age range. And no, I’m not shitting on young moms, and yes, I know, 18-25 is “peak fertility” so that is a good and normal thing that most moms are that age. Yay! I love that for them! All moms are equally deserving and valuable.

    I do think it’s weird, though, that so many moms in this culture boast that they are/will be “done having kids by 30.” I guess the idea is, they want to be able to enjoy their late 40s/50s in freedom without having kids/teens to take care of, and they want to be still pretty spry when their grandkids are young. That’s all fair, and I can definitely see the advantages there; but are those really good enough reasons to close oneself off to potential life after your 30th birthday?

    Also, the “fertility peaks before 25” statement is very much a vast generalization, for one thing. Some of us dealt with physical and mental health issues that killed our fertility In our teens and twenties, so much that we can literally count on two hands the number of menstrual periods we had between 14 and 29; some of us are actually way healthier and more fertile in our 30s, thank you very much. And for that matter, many of us older moms did not choose to be older moms. We would have loved to have kids in our 20s, but life did not happen that way, and we are just grateful to be moms at all. So thanks, Internet, for rubbing in our faces what we already know and regret and can’t change.

    “But moms over 35 are more likely to miscarry or to have a baby with genetic conditions.” For one, there’s always a chance of miscarriage or pregnancy loss, which is tragic, so if you are not in a place to be able to cope with that, then you should probably not get pregnant right now.

    As for genetic conditions: parenthood comes with risks. It can be hard. It is not guaranteed to be smooth sailing. You are not guaranteed to get the healthy, perfect babies you dreamed about when you were a little girl. If you are not open to difficulty, to tragedy, to hardship, to a thankless, unglamorous struggle, you should probably not get pregnant at this time. People really think kids are only worth having if they fit into our mental image of a picture-perfect life. If you would kill your child for having Downs, then parenthood is not for you.

    And besides, the risk does go up, it’s true; but the risk is still minute. The fearmongering about “old moms” is really out of control.

    Women have been having healthy babies in their late 30s and 40s since the dawn of humanity. The idea that we are morally obligated to get sterilized or go on birth control past a certain age, is so twisted! First of all because birth control is a moral evil and no one should be on it. (I know there are some exceptions for health conditions.) But even if it somehow weren’t, the idea that it’s “immoral” or “selfish” to have kids past a certain age, is absolutely false.

    Obviously, the use of IVF and surrogacy are immoral — but a mom who naturally gets pregnant in her late 30s or 40s? There’s literally nothing selfish about her having that baby, in fact she is doing what she should. God designed women to be able to have children from teenage through almost 50. All of those years are equally natural and valid times to have a baby. If you conceived spontaneously, in the normal way, then guess what, you are fertile, you are in your childbearing years, you are able to have a baby; anyone who tells you otherwise is sorely misguided!

    But what about the argument that old moms are being selfish because they’ll be too tired to be fun moms, or they won’t be around to see as much of their grandkids, or their kids will be forced to watch them age and die while said kids are still relatively young?

    Sorry, but that’s just part of being a human in a family, isn’t it: people age, people die. Women are generally fertile from teens through almost 50, therefore, some kids are born to younger parents and some to older parents. Their experiences of their parents are likely to be different. (But not guaranteed. Some older parents are in great shape, live a long time, and are involved with their grandkids; some younger parents die young. Nothing is guaranteed. If you plan your whole life around avoiding pain and suffering, you’re going to have a really bad time (take it from me, I have a clinically diagnosed avoidant personality). Nothing is guaranteed.) So what? So what if one kid’s parents are older, as long as they are loved and raised well? Should that child have been prevented or aborted just because his parents aren’t running around him in circles in the yard, or don’t keep up with his music or slang, or because he will have to see them age or die while he’s still only in his twenties or thirties? Do those circumstances make his whole life a waste, would he be better off never having existed?

    It’s pretty absurd thinking.

    I mean if you think about it, the whole “I want to be done by 30” is, in fact, way more selfish than being open to life for as long as you can. So your free time/vacations/hobbies are more important to you than the potential children that you could be devoting yourself to? I’m not shaming anyone who loves their hobbies and vacations or whatever, but surely it’s clear how that is a more selfish choice than someone who could have chosen to enjoy their personal leisure time, but instead decided to give that time to their child.

    So while initially I was pretty shook by all the negativity and stigma out there around “old moms,” and worried that I may have made a mistake, I have since realized that that negative buzz is all just another symptom of a very sick and massively deluded society. “Unethical”? For a married woman to get pregnant and have her child? People have such a bizarre idea of what “ethics” even is, these days!

    Obviously I can understand preferring to have kids in your 20s. Being a young mom is more sexy, it’s glamorous, it looks more fun and people say you can “relate to your kids more” or whatever (although, I’m not here to be my kids’ bestie, I’m here to raise them). Teen moms are nowhere near as stigmatized as old moms, IMO – people like young people better in general. So I can understand preferring to have kids young, it being more fun at that age. I would have loved to be a young mom! But, let’s be real, every mom is just as much a mom as every other mom, regardless of age, and all pregnant ladies deserve our respect, not judgment. There’s no good reason to go on birth control or sterilize oneself after 30 or 35 (or ever, unless, again, you have some health condition that requires it for non-contraceptive purposes).

    Okay, rant over. Leave old moms alone!

  • Is it ok for poor people to have kids?

    December 27th, 2024

    CW: Pro-life, anti-contraception content follows.

    If you’re still here: cool, hi friend, you rock! now, listen, I am just a random layperson who overthinks everything, okay, and this is all just my opinion that I’ve arrived at after a lot of mulling and stewing and prayerfully considering. I’m not trying to teach anyone the actual Catholic faith. I am not a priest or theologian. Please look elsewhere for formal instruction!

    The other day I saw a reel from a pro-lifer I follow, responding to the common “pro-choice” argument that women in poverty need access to abortion in order to prevent more children from being born into a life of poverty and misery. Her response was basically this: all humans, regardless of their financial status, are equally valuable. In our society we tend to believe rich people are more important, more worthy, but this is false. We are all created equal, & etc. Then, in the comments, the pro-aborts were clapping back with: “we never said anything about the child’s value! It’s precisely because that child has value that he doesn’t deserve to be born into a life of poverty!”

    Which sounds fair – but the thing is (and this is the point which the pro-lifer didn’t bother to make in her response, and I’m not blaming her for that, because it ought to be an absolute no-brainer, and anyone with a sane POV of human life would simply already know this): that child already exists. He lives inside his mom for now, but he is a separate human from her, and his body is not hers. Should we be allowed to drive to poor neighborhoods and just shoot little children on sight because they are poor and don’t deserve to be trapped in that life? Is that a noble and charitable thing to do? Obviously not. You don’t kill a baby who already exists simply because their family is poor.

    But should his parents have had sex in the first place? (Obviously I’m not talking about cases where the sex was non-consensual, as in that case it wasn’t the mom’s decision to be open to life. And obviously, even in that case it is immoral to kill the child, who already exists and it’s not his fault he was conceived in such a way, and a second tragedy would not rectify the first. But I’m not talking about abortion or about cases where it was not the mom’s choice to be open to life.) The question this problem brings us to is: is it okay for poor people to be open to life (i.e. have sex at all)? Should poor people reproduce? Is it ethical for people who are poor to grow their family?

    I think it’s important here to consider the difference between not having much and being in a lot of debt. You can be poor and living paycheck to paycheck (net zero), but not hopelessly in debt (net deep in the negatives). But having a ton of debt that you’re unable to pay is a different problem. (I think it’s probably okay to have kids while in debt as long as you’re able to make timely payments.) We have a moral obligation to pay off our debts. If you can’t make payments on your debts at all, it might be unwise to get pregnant, because kids cost money and not paying your debts is a sin, so in that case you’d be choosing to sin. So, for the purposes of this post, I am talking about not those couples who are drowning in debt and unable to make payments, but those who simply don’t have a lot.

    It goes without saying that birth control is off the table. It is always pure evil (when used for contraceptive purposes; I know some women take it for health conditions). It is the root of so much evil in our modern world, and no one should ever use it – however, NFP (or Natural Family Planning, if you’re not familiar) is, in extreme cases, acceptable. I don’t know if it’s ever a good idea, but at times it might be necessary, like if one of the parents is having serious health issues, or they need to space births for pressing medical reasons. Anyway, for the purposes of this little SITV post, I just wanna make it clear that birth control is not an option, but NFP might be. Is it? I’m not sure.

    The best and most morally perfect way to approach family planning is to not plan. As married couples, we should trust God completely with our fertility. After all, He arranged the whole universe, from all the billions of galaxies down to the workings of all the subatomic particles and how they interact; why would I believe that He can do all that, but He can’t figure out my household, oh no, this is too tricky, I better step in and take over here!

    I hear a lot of trad women online profess that they live this way. They are Radically Open to Life. NFP is birth control, they say, and therefore it’s not the way to go. They seem to even look down their noses at families who use NFP.

    I must say, I kinda agree with those women. I think they are doing it the most perfect way. But I also think they probably have a lot of privilege. They talk about making sacrifices in order to make this lifestyle work, but, I think they are assuming that their level of financial strain, and their specific sacrifices, are exactly as much as any other family would have to endure and give up. I think these women are forgetting that some people out there have bigger financial problems, have debt, and/or have jobs that pay less than six figures. People (myself included) tend to assume their level of “poor” is the same as everyone else’s.

    Some people out there aren’t even sure if they will be able to afford the next month’s electric bill. Some people need food stamps to afford groceries. Should these people also be Radically Open to Life?

    You might argue that they shouldn’t have gotten married in the first place, if they’re that poor. You should go into a marriage materially and mentally prepared to take care of a family, because that is the purpose of marriage. That is true, and a good priest would probably discuss that with the couple in pre-marriage counseling; but that aside, we’re not talking about “woulda coulda shouldas” here. Plenty of people with troubled financial pasts get married. Maybe they are working hard to increase their income, to achieve financial security. Let’s assume that, for whatever reason, they got married even though they were poor. Maybe unwise, but not a sin, and does not in any way invalidate the marriage; there’s no rule anywhere in Church teaching that says a couple must have x amount of money to get married. So, therefore, it’s still a marriage, which means that the rule still applies, doesn’t it: be fruitful and multiply.

    But how fruitful? Should they stop after one or two? Is a poor couple obligated to avoid pregnancy (via NFP, of course) until they are more secure?

    I found a super compelling article that argues the contrary. It’s really hard to find anymore. It used to be up on the SSPX website, but for whatever reason it’s not anymore, but I found it on some old forum a while ago. It was written by a priest in the 1940s and it’s called Rhythm: The Unhappy Compromise, or something like that. I really recommend tracking it down if you’re as interested in this topic as I am. Basically this priest argues that even poverty is hardly ever a serious reason for a couple to avoid pregnancy.

    Because, think about it: Our Lord was born into serious poverty. He was born in a barn! Those are the circumstances that God, the God of the universe, the great eternal I AM, chose to come into our world in. His family was poor, working class; they had no financial security. Similarly, think of all the great Saints who come from poverty. St. Bernadette, St. Maria Goretti, and others. The author of this article I’m talking about was, himself, one of about twelve or thirteen children from a very poor family.

    Our culture really looks down on families who “have more kids than they can afford.” I think some parents out there make all the other ones look bad (my husband used to be a social worker, and he tells me that he would sometimes see moms who would do stuff like sell their children’s food stamps in order to buy a new Xbox, etc. – corrupt, evil, lazy behavior). Not all poor parents are lazy or irresponsible. Many of them are doing the best with what they have, and making hard sacrifices. Making sacrifices, and accepting humiliation of help in the form of government benefits, despite the associated stigma, in order to prioritize bringing new life into the world. Is that so bad? Shouldn’t that be a priority? After all, that is God’s command to married couples, isn’t it? And besides, isn’t life supremely good?

    That’s the problem, I think: we as a society do not believe that human life is, in and of itself, good. We believe it’s good only if it serves others, if it doesn’t burden others, if it’s pleasant and comfortable for the individual and those around him. If it’s unpleasant or a burden, it’s bad and should be avoided. We as a society believe that pleasure is the most valuable thing, and that we don’t owe anyone else anything. We’re all islands, free to pursue our own happiness – fuck everyone else, they’re not my problem. This is a very sad and distorted worldview. Human life is always a good thing, and it’s not our place to decide who should live and who should not.

    “So Mith, are you saying that a couple who’s lost their jobs and home and is living on the street, literally begging for food, with their eight children starving to death, should continue to be Radically Open to Life?” (Well, for one, this family should look into SNAP if they haven’t already. The US government tries not to let children starve to death. Also, any Catholic church, or pretty much any Christian church that they stumble into, will also help feed them.) But still: should a couple this poor remain open to life? (I mean, for one, where and how would they even have sex if they’re living on the street with eight kids, lol.) I think some circumstances are dire enough to permit postponing pregnancy – but still, wouldn’t it be an amazing expression of faith, if this couple said “we know God will provide” and continued to be open? What a heroic expression of trust, even to the point of apparent lunacy, like Abraham in the Old Testament! He knew that God would take care of him, even when God told him to kill his child, he trusted radically, he did something that looked absolutely insane and wrong– and, because of that, God came through for him. I think radical trust is a great thing in any circumstances.

    Not everyone’s faith is that strong, though. We’re not all Old Testament heroes. We are afraid – understandably so. Times are tough. We are weak; God knows this about us, and loves us anyway. So if a couple lacks the degree of faith necessary to radically trust God with their fertility… well, obviously they can still be a good Catholic couple, provided that they are working on improving their faith. But I think the point is, we should all strive to have the kind of faith that trusts radically in God’s loving design.

    “Well, then, Mith, why do anything at all? Why wake up and go to work? Why cook and clean, if God will just take care of everything for us? Should we all just sit back and do nothing and wait for His help?” Lol come on now, that’s not how this works. God helps those who help themselves. We plant the seeds in the ground, and we trust that if we water and weed, God will make them grow. In this analogy, using birth control or NFP would be like digging up the seed, trying to manipulate the sprout out of the shell with tweezers, make sure it’s going in the right direction, trying to nip the potentially-bad sprouts in the bud, etc. Doing all that’s just going to kill the plant.

    So that’s why I think, even in cases of poverty, openness to life is always a good thing. That being said, I don’t think it’s cool to shame couples who use NFP for serious health-related or financial reasons. (Especially if you’re financially privileged and don’t have to worry about actually affording bills. “We might not get the newest iPhone or take a Disney vacation this year” are not serious sacrifices. These kinds of people have no right to look down their nose at NFP users; they can take several seats.) Humans are frail, and we can’t all be perfect all the time, especially under pressure. NFP is not good, but it’s certainly much less evil than birth control, and it can be a useful tool for couples in dire situations (who are constantly working on deepening their faith, of course).

    Human life is always good, and it’s not only permissible, but good, to prioritize having kids over material comforts. Radical trust is good in conjunction with responsibility and hard work. I believe Dostoevesky wrote in The Idiot that “children are the wealth of the poor,” and I believe that is true. Kids are good. We should have more of them. Unless we have solid evidence that a parent is being irresponsible or abusive or lazy, let’s stop shaming and judging families who “have more kids than they can afford.”

    Poverty is, needless to say, awful, and it’s truly the mark of a society that has failed. I think we should work on improving our society and caring for each other, rather than just reducing our numbers. Killing poor people (including babies) is not the way to end poverty, I mean, come on now.

    Oh, and before you come at me with the “global overpopulation” card, please do some more research. The USCCB and NCR both have articles debunking this myth.

    Sequel To This Post Now Available Here

  • What music is it ok to listen to?

    December 27th, 2024

    ETA: a lot of answers to this particular Question That Keeps Me Up At Night can be found here and here. I wrote this before finding these two sources, both of which clarify much of what I was trying to figure out in the post below. I highly recommend checking them out if you’re as concerned about this topic as I am. I feel like these answer the question I asked below of what someone like St. Louis de Montfort would say about contemporary “clean” pop music, and whether something like Christian-themed dubstep is okay. Apparently, neither of these are actually okay, because it is indeed the very rhythms, the actual unnatural structure of the songs, that are problematic.

    Dr. K (who is a brilliant Catholic thinker, I always appreciate his writing) says in his article that music based in rhythm rather than melody is base and uncultured, even primitive. That the music of a well-developed society is more melodic, appealing to the intellect more than the flesh. As someone who used to play the drums, and has always loved rhythm and percussion in general, I’m really not sure how I feel about that. I see his point, completely, and it makes sense, and I believe that he is right; but I wonder, is enjoying rhythm always a bad thing?

    As you can see, I still find myself wrestling with this question. Anyway, here is the original post (which is, in fact, not the original post, because I keep updating and revising this post):

    .

    Before converting to Catholicism, I used to think that it didn’t matter what kind of music you listened to; what mattered was that you were a “good person” (whatever that nebulous term even means). My whole life, I’d always been embarrassed by much of my musical taste, because I was aware that it was very lowbrow and not the kind of thing to discuss around someone that I wanted to impress; but, I didn’t worry about the actual morality of it. But then, in 2012, I started looking into the Faith, and began to worry that there might be more to it.

    Maybe I should change my habits? Or maybe it didn’t really matter, as long as I did all the right things otherwise? I remained very conflicted, and continued listening to my shitty profane music, albeit with a troubled conscience (if you checked this blog before a month or so ago, you may remember my previous post on this topic, in which I yet again demonstrated the mental gymnastics I’d perform in order to justify my listening habits) – all the way up until very recently. To make a long story short: I finally found a solid church to attend, and sought advice from a priest there, and was informed that willfully listening to impure content is, indeed, a venial sin — always.

    So, with one or two brief sentences, that good priest basically laid this question to rest, for me: this question which had weighed on me for over a decade. Secular pop radio is generally bad.

    But I still find myself wondering about exactly what, then, is permissible. Unlike in the aforementioned previous version of this post, I am no longer pretending to have arrived at a final answer. I’m just wondering aloud here:

    Is it only songs with impure or sinful content (i.e. those that celebrate or make light of satanism, greed, envy, murder, drugs, sexual sin/promiscuity, etc.) that are bad to listen to? Or, is everything that’s contemporary or popular bad? Does being played on pop radio automatically make something bad? Or, is it just that, in order to find the few clean songs, you’d have to sit and listen through a bunch of bad ones, so that’s why it’s advised not to listen to pop radio at all?

    I kind of assume this to be the case (maybe I should have grilled the priest further, but I truly hate to bother priests, even more than I hate to bother regular people). Because it seems like not every single song that’s popular and secular is bad – right?

    Just a couple of examples that come to mind are “Show Me The Meaning of Being Lonely” by BSB, “All Time Low” by Jon Bellion, “What I’ve Done” by Linkin Park, and “Chandelier” by Sia. None of these glorify sin. They talk about it, but they’re not celebrating it the way a lot of mainstream hip-hop does. – But, are they still problematic, simply because they deal with themes of worldly cares and struggles? Or because they are basically Godless, just complaining and whining with no mention of God or of any kind of spiritual sense of hope? You’re just wallowing in the world, then, aren’t you? Isn’t it problematic to just whine and vent about your sadness (or even glorify that sadness) if you’re not putting a Christian spin on it, if you’re not keeping in mind the hope of redemption?

    Another thing that got me reconsidering all of this was, shortly before consulting this priest, I read St. Louis de Montfort’s “Secret of the Rosary.” In it, he made one quick mention in some clause somewhere of people who listen to “evil music:” implying that doing so is obviously not something that a Catholic should do.

    Which set off alarm bells in my head right away, because, what kind of “evil music” could he possibly be referring to, in 1710 France? I’m no expert on music history, but I’m pretty sure they didn’t have anything that even came close to rivaling the profanity of even our cleanest pop music today. “Chandelier” and “All Time Low,” by St. Louis’s standards, would probably be “evil,” don’t you think? Not only because of the themes, but also simply because of the way they sound. Maybe music that sounds a certain way – like, music that speaks to and excites the flesh, or the emotions, rather than the mind – is automatically evil?

    If that’s the case, then is Matthew Parker’s “Light of Dawn” evil because it is dubstep, even though the content is Christian? Or, is it sinful to listen to pop music if the lyrics are in a language I don’t understand (like this one, which is one of my all time favorite songs ever)? Or what about “Dragostea din tei“? Please, don’t tell me the Numa Numa song is sinful!

    I wish I could pick St. Louis’s brain about this!

    Because (bit of backstory here) I have the misfortune of having always really loved really bad music. Going all the way back to my childhood. I wish I could be like some of my smart and sophisticated friends, who find mainstream contemporary pop and hip-hop just tiring and gross and stupid, preferring cool indie or folk or retro music. I wish I were that cool! I just don’t have a taste for any of that highbrow stuff. The music that I like, I like because it affects my emotions and my flesh: the basest parts of me.

    Which is funny, because I truly don’t care for impure content in books or TV/movies. I’ve always hated smut; it is just cringey, it does nothing for me and doesn’t tempt me at all. But rap songs about drugs, cash, strip clubs, and huge butts? Those just really do something to me. I love that shit.

    I’ve never quite figured out why this is. Maybe because it is so removed from me, so un-relatable. With my AvPD and history of EDs, I’m basically an extremely repressed and avoidant person with shitty self-esteem and a terrible relationship with my own flesh (I often refer it, to my husband’s great annoyance, as “the meat tank”), and furthermore, have always lived in mortal terror of conflict, of offending someone, of getting in trouble. So, perhaps, these hip-hop songs, which are so visceral, physical, boastful, shameless, and confrontational, so everything that I am not – perhaps they speak to some deeply repressed part of me, and breathe life into it. Who knows.

    For Lent this year, I’ve been listening only to classical and sacred music. Now, I’m wondering if I ought to continue this resolution permanently. The thought of doing that is awfully depressing. I’ve already resolved, since talking to that priest, to quit listening to the vulgar stuff, the stuff that celebrates sin. I figured that I could still listen to the stuff that’s not vulgar. But maybe I ought to stop listening to that, too?

    Is it always bad to consume media that excites the emotions in a non-religious way? (I’m also thinking here about books or TV/movies that have romantic storylines – even if they don’t have any graphic content. Is it bad to love romance stories? This should probably be a post for another day.) We know that the passions are not a worthwhile thing, generally. But they’re not always bad, right? It’s a good (but not necessary) thing to feel passionately attracted to your spouse. It’s a good (but not necessary) thing to feel love and fondness for your family and friends, and to feel sadness when something bad happens to them. It’s a good (but not necessary) thing to be moved to tears by meditating on Christ’s Passion or on our own sins. But, all of these are instances where the passions are serving our soul on its journey heavenward. Listening to secular music that arouses emotion about secular things: is this always a bad thing to do?

    I should probably find a chance to talk to a priest about this, but, for the time being, I assume that it is safe to approach this in the same way that I currently approach fast days as someone not super advanced spiritually and still in the grip of an ED: I don’t think it’s a good idea for someone like me to strictly fast from food on fast days, because of the state that I’m in. Similarly, at the stage I’m currently in spiritually, I really don’t know if it would be a good idea for me to give up all “fun” music entirely. Probably, when I make more progress, I will desire to give up more things. But would it be helpful to push myself to go ahead and give it all up now?

    Maybe it would. But, I am weak. I’m still living in the world, and still desirous of some worldly pleasures. And I think it is probably at least better, and a move in the right direction, to start by giving up the explicitly sinful stuff (which, if I may be allowed to whine for a minute, is an embarrassingly big deal, for me, considering the kind of stuff I typically listen to). I am at least glad that I am making progress. I feel like maybe a good place to start is to only listen to things that I would be totally comfortable listening to with my five-year-old daughter present.

    Or? I am curious to hear what others think. Do other practicing Catholics listen to any secular pop/rock/hip-hop at all? Do we just limit ourselves to the clean stuff? Or do we eschew it entirely?

  • Protected: the present. pt. 3

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  • Protected: the present. pt. 2

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  • Protected: the present. pt. 1

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