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Revised April 2025
I have always loved music videos. When I was a kid in the 1990s, Nickelodeon would sometimes, during their commercial breaks, play this little ninety-second “Rugrat Rap,” which I, as a huge fan of Rugrats and a budding but closeted fan of rap, found to be enthralling as heck and loved every time it came on. It was probably around this time that I started making my own music videos in my head to songs that I liked (I still do this, and I know I’m not the only one!).
Music videos were always on the TV in my house, when I was growing up. My Mom, who was and still is a Cool Mom (when I was in my teens and twenties, she took me to a ton of concerts, including AFI (twice), Nine Inch Nails, HIM, and Muse), loved to watch videos on VH1 while she was ironing clothes or making me waffles in the morning. I was enchanted by them, loved the whole concept and the way a video drew me into the song and amplified its physiological impact on me, the way salt amplifies the flavor of a food. I remember watching the videos for “Say You’ll Be There” and “Baby One More Time” and all the classic BSB ones when they were new and hot.
Those were all great, but probably the first video that made a huge impact on my psyche was “Clint Eastwood” by Gorillaz. This video changed my life when I was in fifth grade. I’m not even exaggerating. I don’t think I even need to elaborate on how iconic this video is: it took my world, and the music world at large, by storm. (Also, Gorillaz, and this song in particular, really make me think of Infinite Jest somehow. I have this awesome vision that someone needs to help me realize: to remake this video but with Hal as 2D, Pemulis as Murdoc, Mario as Noodle, Gateley as Russell, and Himself as the ghost. Tell me that’s not perfect! Can someone with animation skills please do this? Come on. You don’t even have to credit me.)
Anyway, in must have been the late ‘90s or very early 00s, two music videos made huge impressions on me and still haunt me all these years later: that freaky depressing claymation video for the song “Hell Bent” by Kenna (devastating, unwatchable, can’t stand it) (why is it not on Youtube though? I swear this is the version I saw on TV back then), and the famously enigmatic “Just” by Radiohead. I was shook! After seeing the Radiohead one I spent days, weeks even, mulling it over, talking about it incessantly and demanding theories from everyone I knew. It drove me crazy that Thom Yorke insisted upon taking the secret to his grave (if he even actually has an answer and isn’t just messing with us all, haha, which as an adult I now think is the most likely answer). Seriously. What did the dude say? I needed to know. I’d still love to hear your theories, lol.
And then, a few years later, when I was coming of age and starting to really get into music, there was “Numb” by Linkin Park. The absolute chokehold that this video had on adolescent Mith! At twelve or thirteen, I thought I was that girl in the video. I actually hate how much power this video had over my whole worldview and identity at that formative time.
To this day, when I find a video that makes me feel something, I will either watch it over and over and over, addictively, or, avoid it like the plague, depending on the feeling. Here is a list of my all time favorites.
This list has been winnowed pretty aggressively to remove five or six songs that I no longer listen to because they are overtly sinful. I did my best to rank these, but some on the list really can’t be compared with others; it’s apples and oranges. So without further ado:
12. “Prelude 12/21” by AFI. Chills! Every time. It’s genius: every moment of this video looks exactly like the song sounds. The way Davey opens his eyes and looks into the camera at 0:38, just absolutely rocked my world. They opened with this one on the tour, prolonging that twinkly little music box melody in the intro as the band came out on stage, and it was so dramatic and exciting to watch. What a thing of beauty, all of it. (I know some people say AFI “sold out” when they left Nitro and started getting played on MTV and stuff, but, I like their “mainstream” stuff as much as their “punk” stuff — you can’t compare the two, it’s all so good!)
11. “Speeding Cars” by Walking on Cars. Damn this video! The song is sad enough on its own, but I can rock out to it in my car or whatever, and make up my own video to go along with it. But this, the official video, I cannot stand to watch. It makes me too sad. Also, I have been to that beach irl, and was sad when I was there, too, so the song + video + memories combined, it’s a perfect storm. This one would be higher on the list if it were at all watchable.
10. “Voices in my Head” by Falling in Reverse. If you know me, you know I absolutely adore Ronnie Radke, and this video is kind of like a little bio of him as an artist. Plus, the timing, the movements, the expressions, the rage but with that edge of self-deprecating humor to kind of cut the raw emotion which would otherwise be cringe – the way it’s not taking itself too seriously: it all totally encapsulates the song, which is fire.
9. “Despacito” by Luis Fonsi ft. Daddy Yankee. Oh, to be the Despacito girl! To have her life! I think about her almost daily. This video shows us a character thumbnail of her, a little snippet of her life in Puerto Rico. I love characters and settings, so this for me is the good stuff. It’s just a happy little portrait of a person and a place. Plus the sunshine, the ocean waves, the bright colors – it matches the song to a T. It’s genius.
8. “Paperthin Hymn” by Anberlin. Another one that I actually can’t watch, hardly ever. I think I’ve watched it three times total. It’s too sad. Normally I devour tragic love stories like movie theater popcorn, but this one hits a little too hard. I think it’s something about the muted colors, making it feel at once agonizingly real and eerily dreamlike. Also the song itself feels just too painfully sad, it’s already almost too sad to enjoy, so combined with the video, it’s lethal.
7. “Immortal Love” by Vampires Everywhere!. I am so obsessed with the love story in this video. The moment where they lock eyes while walking in opposite directions with their opposite friend groups at 2:22 just kills me every time. Plus, the outdoor concert at night in the late fall with a campfire – I want to be there! Ugh, my inner scene kid is rearing her ugly head. The visuals could not be better suited to the song.
6. “Cry Little Sister” also by Vampires Everywhere!. What a gem. The lead singer, Michael Vampire, was born to cover and perform this song. This entire video is a feast for the eyes, and I probably watched it about twenty times on repeat when I first discovered it – the four current band members vibe so well together – but, my favorite moment is when he does that thing with his eyes at 0:54. You can tell he really loves the heck out of this song and means every word of it. Also, 3:36-38 is such a moment, I am spellbound.
5. “No New Friends” by LSD. Such a weird, happy song with a weird, happy video! It’s a thing of beauty, it puts joy in my weird little melancholic heart. I have no complaints.
4. “Youngblood” by 5SOS. The song is already infectious enough, but dang! This video was a stroke of brilliance. How did they come up with the idea to tell a story about Japanese greasers, and why does it work so well? The very unexpectedness of it is partly why it’s so potent. There’s a sadness in this poppy little melody, and the frame story with the old couple drives home that element like a nail in your heart. Rarely do I like an official video more than my personal secret one, but this comes close. I’ve only watched it start to finish twice because it’s too powerful for me.
3. “My Songs Know What You Did In The Dark” by Fall Out Boy. Generally not a FOB fan, but, this one slaps, and rapper 2 Chainz is honestly perfect in this video. The way it shows him slow-motion pouring gasoline on the fire through the shadows – he really is this video, and the video is the song, like, they are all one indivisible, unbearably cool entity. I cannot hear the song without picturing the video – can’t forget the official video long enough to zone out and daydream, haha so I don’t actually listen to the song that much because it’s a poor vehicle. I think there’s a statement about music and video culture somewhere in this, but I’m not too interested in that; I just enjoy the aesthetics.
And finally, the top two are a tie for Mith’s Greatest Music Video of All Time:
2. “Lepestkami Slez” (“Лепестками Слез”) by Dan Balan and Vera Brezhneva. I cannot overstate the magnitude of the effect that this video had on me mentally. When I first discovered it in 2010 it was like a meteor crashing into my earth. It’s actually embarrassing how much I have carried this, how much it’s impacted my mental landscape. I also once wrote a short story based on this video, which people told me was pretty good, and a few years later, in a 4D art class, created some kind of diorama piece based on this song. I never tire of watching this video.
And:
1. “Cirice” by Ghost. Life-changing. I don’t listen to Ghost anymore (except for like one or two of their less blasphemous songs, occasionally), and I do not condone listening to them, but can’t not put this one on the list. I will forever be grateful for this track. This song and video found me in 2017 when I sorely needed them, and almost literally gave me life and sustained me for a not-insignificant length of time. Two years later, as a healthier and happier person, seeing this song performed live felt very much like being right there in the video, as the lights went all dark and red and Tobias apparently always chooses someone in the front row to reenact that epic moment at 3:20-34 with (not me lol, I was in the nosebleeds, still cool to see though) and it was kind of ecstasy, almost like a “spiritual experience” tbh. I just hope everyone has a song that does for them what this song/video does for me.
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Yesterday at the doctor’s office, the nurses had to ask me a long series of questions before the doctor came in, and one of these was, “have you ever had a drug or alcohol use problem?”
Awkward. How am I supposed to answer that? What do they mean, what do they want? “Well, kind of,” I said. “I used to drink too much, so I stopped. I haven’t had any in over five years.”
The nurse and her shadow (one of them was a trainee) were then like: “Okay, but were you ever really, like… you know… or was it just…were you, like…”
“No, I mean, it wasn’t, like…”
We both knew what we were talking about. Was I a real alcoholic, the kind with a serious problem, or just another self-obsessed millennial woman “in recovery” from her emotional “trauma?”
“I was never, like, in rehab or hospitalized or anything,” I elaborated, apologetically, embarrassed.
“Right, right,” said nurse #1.
“So, put no,” nurse #2 instructed nurse #1, who was typing up my chart on her laptop.
Why did this interaction leave me bristling? I can’t figure it out. It’s either because (a) I lied, concealing just how all-consuming and life-ruining and maddening my drinking problem was, OR (b) I feel invalidated by their hastiness to label me “Not a Real Alcoholic” because my suffering was not as outwardly extreme as that of someone with a “real” problem – an attitude which got under my skin all the time back in the days when I frequented AA meetings.
The thing is, though, I don’t remember ever encountering another AA who gave me this attitude. They were all always incredibly welcoming and accepting, always emphasizing that I was one of them, that I belonged there. The whole thing in AA is, in order to succeed, it’s absolutely crucial to “identify in:” to be convinced that you belong there. They say that the first step (“we admitted that we were powerless over alcohol, that our lives had become unmanageable” – i.e., sincere confession that you are a Real Alcoholic (capitalizations mine, not theirs)) is the only one that you have to do 100%. At the same time, though, in the 12 Traditions, it says “the only requirement for membership is a desire to stop drinking” – so, being a member, belonging there, does not necessarily mean you’re working the Steps (although you should be). So I guess you can be a true member without professing yourself to be a Real Alcoholic. But you won’t get very far. Everyone you talk to will say you need to get a sponsor and do the steps, otherwise what are you doing here?
I am not sure if I was ever sure that I was a Real Alcoholic. How do you even know? Believe me, I pored over this question and studied it in the literature and agonized over it in meetings and waffled back and forth for four years. I really wanted to be, because I wanted somewhere to belong – I so wanted to have found my niche, my kindred spirits, somewhere I was not an alien.
But I was an outsider even there. There’s this informal, unofficial dichotomy among AAs between the “high bottom” and the “rock bottom” folks, and those who hit a real material rock bottom (homelessness, rehabs, seizures, loss of family and jobs, etc.) are more respected, taken more seriously than the “high bottom” ones, the ones like me, who avoided treatment and were still, technically, “functional.” Now, let it be known that this dichotomy is not Program-sanctioned. The Big Book says over and over that anyone who wants to stop drinking is welcome. It even includes several personal accounts from high bottom drinkers, to show that all types are included here, that we are all the same. Still though: that doesn’t prevent certain types from looking down on the high bottom folks, and you might hear such lines as “I spilled more than you ever drank” tossed around.
Which is nasty and harmful, but still – don’t they have a point? Who am I to say that I’m “just like” someone who lived on the street, lost their spouse and kids, drank rubbing alcohol out of sheer desperation, or resorted to crime to find the next drink? I understand their mindset, and sympathize, but I guess I had enough rationality, or enough self-preservation instinct, remaining in me that I did not need to sink that low to stop.
So I always felt out of place when I was the sole “high bottom” drinker in a room full of former heroin addicts, ex-cons, and homeless folks. In theory, all are welcome, but, tell me that wouldn’t feel weird for you.
So, I was well aware that I had an irreparable problem with alcohol, that my brain was permanently incapable of a healthy relationship with it – but, I was never sure that was enough to make me a Real Alcoholic, the kind who deserves AA.
And the nurses’ comments yesterday just reaffirmed that. Reminded me that I am not actually a real alcoholic, despite those years of daily reciting “Hi, I’m Mith, I’m an Alcoholic” and diligently doing the steps with my sponsors. I think perhaps this is extra “triggering” because impostor syndrome is huge for me in general: I have rarely ever felt like a “real” anything. Despite converting ten years ago and receiving the Sacraments regularly, I still don’t feel like a “real” Catholic. Sometimes when I see women getting married or pregnant, I get this weird streak of jealousy piercing through me, because it’s like I’m not a real wife or mom – I’m just a poser who got lucky, and is trying to walk the walk. I never identified with the schools that I attended, never belonged to sports teams or clubs or a sorority. Obviously, I’m not a real writer, lol, despite having written about ten novel-length stories and having a BFA in Writing and writing being my #1 hobby and passion. Maybe my impostor syndrome would go away if I got something traditionally published, but, from what I’ve heard from published authors, the impostor syndrome doesn’t go away even then. Heck, I have never even felt like a real human for much of my life, thanks to the AvPD, haha I seriously had this whole elaborate mental game as early as age six where I was an alien from another planet, the only one of my kind, to try to make sense of this feeling. So perhaps the nurses’ comments just “twisted the knife” in that a little.
Or, was it actually option (a), and I was hiding the truth so the doctors wouldn’t judge me? This might be it too. I’ll change my story to please whoever’s in the room with me. Thus, in AA, I’m “an alcoholic,” but out among normies, nope, don’t worry, I’m just another normie! Insubstantial, like nothing is actually inside this here meat-tank, except for a tumultuous vapor storm of wants and fears; I’m just whatever I think someone wants me to be!
Either way, it’s annoying.
Maybe the fact that I was never sure that I was a Real Alcoholic, just proves that I never really worked Step One, which would prove why I never had success despite working all twelve steps twice through to the best of my ability. This is probably the advice that a seasoned AA would give me. But, I have already found that convincing myself of my own powerlessness and unmanageability was not enough to make me identify with those rock-bottom folks. I think the AvPD might be the problem here – I think that that condition throws a real wrench in the works when it comes to identifying with other humans at all. AvPD will always find a reason why you are not like the others. It will always convince you.
(So if anyone out there happens to also be AvPD and alcoholic, just know that I feel your pain – how are we supposed to actually recover when the recovery process fundamentally requires connecting with other humans? That being said, white knuckling it through life has still proved to be better than actively drinking, by a long shot. One of the most helpful pieces of advice a fellow AA ever gave me was, “you just get used to being uncomfortable.” You find other ways to get through the day.)
(Anyway, a seasoned AA would probably also tell me that the mere fact that I’m sitting here agonizing over whether I’m a Real Alcoholic or not, is a sign that I’m obviously one. They say that normies don’t sit around asking themselves this question – that if you’ve ever Googled “am I an alcoholic,” congratulations, you almost certainly are.)
But wait, wait, let’s back up. That whole interaction, what if it was all in my head? What if it wasn’t the nurses invalidating me, but me? If they had asked whether I had any history of alcohol abuse and I simply answered “Yes,” without apologizing for my answer, would they have just taken that at face value?! Probably, lol. Why are we like this.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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?
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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?
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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.
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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.
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!
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…asking as a relatively “poor” person myself, who has been intensely judged by certain people around me for choosing to have kids. Are my accusers right? Am I irresponsible? Am I a child abuser for bringing kids into a life of financial discomfort??
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.
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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):
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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?
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I never used to care for TV before I married my husband. Had I not been so lucky as to meet him, I probably would have lived my whole life without owning a TV or subscribing to any streaming services at all, except maybe FORMED. Just one of the many, many reasons why I’m super lucky to have met my husband!
When he bought us our first TV, I didn’t like it. It was big, it was ugly, it was expensive; I felt, at best, wary of it. My heart began to thaw a bit, though, when my husband suggested that our inaugural viewing be my favorite movie of all time (The Wicker Man, the 2006 remake; yes, I will die on this hill); I even threw a little viewing party for us with a themed dinner!
And in the weeks and months that followed, I realized that the TV had another perk: it made at-home workouts way more fun and easy, because I could follow along with any of the millions of free workout videos on YouTube. It’s kind of hard to do that using the tiny little screen of a phone. So now, the TV and I became friends.
And eventually, at last, I discovered the joy of TV shows. My husband is a movie-and-TV genius – he knows pretty much every movie and show that’s ever been made, and scrolls IMDB for fun – so he introduced me to the world of streaming services.Before, I always thought shows were kind of stupid. The only ones that I appreciated were things like Jeopardy!, cooking shows, HGTV programs, documentaries, and the like. I had no respect for TV as a storytelling medium. Even when my favorite college professor, the one whom I idolized (and whose voice lives on in my head forever as my inner writing critic), once remarked during class that some of the best story-writing these days was being done for television – even then I looked down my nose at it. People should just read books, I thought, haughtily.
Which they should, of course – but overall I was wrong: TV shows are fun, and some of them are brilliant!
Although I’ve come to love lots of shows of all different genres, my favorite kind of show remains the baking competition show. It goes without saying that GBBO takes the cake (ha) when it comes to the baking competition show – but I devour all of them with glee. My current favorites are the seasonal Baking Championships on HBO Max – Holiday, Spring, Summer, and Halloween (I actually don’t care for the Halloween one; too much campy gore and horror and demonish stuff: gross; I wish they’d just do a nice, pleasant Fall-themed one instead, but, oh well).
And so: the idea for this post arose from my obsession with baking competition shows, combined with all of the other shows that I love. My husband and I like to ask each other fun hypothetical questions, it’s one of our favorite games; and together we came up with this one: which TV characters, from any show, would you cast as contestants on a baking competition show? Obviously there have to be twelve; that’s the standard with baking competition shows. (The perfect format starts with twelve bakers, and eliminates the weakest one each episode, until there are three left in the grand finale, with the winner being chosen from those final three.)
So without further ado: if I could choose any characters from any TV show to be the twelve contestants on a new season of the baking championship, these are the ones that I’d choose – listed here in the order in which I think they’d go home:
12. Dr. Iggy Frome from New Amsterdam. He’s a fan favorite, and most of his fellow contestants love him (especially Tanya, she gloms onto him real fast), but, he’d bungle something in one of the challenges – he’d probably get nervous and do something idiotic, like, mention in front of the camera that incest is fine because, you know, love is love, after all, or replace the sugar with salt, or something. On his way out, he’d give everyone a giant hug and a tearful but uplifting speech about how it’s okay to fail.
11. Tanya from White Lotus. In fact, she was probably in the bottom two with Iggy last episode. She’s been tipsy this whole time, and probably dumped a whole bottle of booze into one of her bakes, then in the next challenge slipped in spilled batter and fell spectacularly, and had to be escorted off the set by medics, thus unable to finish the challenge in time. Her fellow contestants are glad to see her go.
10. Eddie from Stranger Things. He did okay; he did his best. I don’t imagine he’s much of a baker. It was just his time to go. He’ll be missed.
9. Jean-Ralphio from Parks and Recreation. He’s been loud and boastful and cocky this whole time, insisting that he’s the winner and also the best dressed. The other bakers hate him, and hate how he sings while he’s baking (Izaya actually stabbed him in the first challenge this week). And he’s only made it this far by cheating, and because he was lucky enough to be teamed up with Marcus in the Team Challenge last episode. He throws a tantrum when the host announces he’s going home, and threatens to call his dad (Kendall laughs at this), and security guards have to walk him off the set.
8. Martha from Baby Reindeer. She’s actually a decent baker, and bakes with fierce intensity and devotion; she does a lot of bold, amibitious flavor combinations, like smoked chili pepper + tropical fruit, but she tends to fall short in the decorating department. She’s eliminated because she was a little too bold this time: she way overdid it on the spice, or the alcohol, or maybe she overfilled her pastries so the overspiced filling was oozing out in a gory mess. Just way too much for the judge’s palates. But, she’s not unhappy to be going home; she’s a very busy woman, after all, and knows she is sorely missed at her demanding job, and can’t wait to get home to her precious boyfriend.
7. Kendall Roy from Succession. He’s not a baker, and doesn’t know his way around the kitchen at all, but has managed to make it this far just by being insanely rich. I don’t even know how that works; it just does. But in this episode, he was high as a kite on park coke, and made a fatal error, like, baking an entire silver spoon into his pie, or vomiting into the ice cream maker, or something. As the host is telling him he’s eliminated, Kendall interrupts and says that, you know what, he’s done with this show, he’s leaving, it’s just not worth his precious time, he wishes you all the best, and besides, the prize money is barely even pennies to him, anyway. To this day he maintains that he would have won had he chosen to stay on. (Side note: my favorite Roy is actually Roman, but I think Kendall would be more fun to watch on a baking show, because he’s such a train wreck. )
6. Fr. Khatri from From. He’s low-key a really good baker, and has been a dark horse this whole time; lots of viewers thought he would be a finalist. But he made the mistake of helping Patricia in the last challenge when she was running out of time to ice her cupcake wreath, thereby sacrificing the finish on his own cupcake wreath, and this act of charity would be his demise. He was very gracious as he left, and attributed everything to God’s will.
5. Izaya Orihara from Drrr!. (“But Mith, why,” you may ask, “do you like that silly anime so much?” The reason is: Izaya.) It was actually a super close race between him and Patricia, who were in the bottom two this episode – Izaya’s cake looked much tidier, but his flavors were kind of dead inside, while Patricia’s supposedly tasted better, according to the judges. The consensus on Reddit seems to be that the judges just let Patricia through because she’s a single mom and always gets very emotional on camera about her boys back home. Anyway, I’m surprised Izaya wasn’t disqualified before now, seeing as how he’s threatened every other contestant with violence or made them bleed at least once. I guess it makes for good TV.
4. Patricia Tillerson from Outer Range. She’s formidable, and experienced, with decades of all-American dessert-baking under her belt. She’s always talking about her three grown sons and their tragic story and alluding to her crazy ex-husband and playing the victim, which makes her sympathetic to a lot of the viewers. She goes home not because of a mistake, but just because all the other remaining bakers are really, really good.
And the three finalists are:
3. Scanlan Shorthalt from The Legend of Vox Machina. Not a baker by any means, but he has that magic hand thing that he does, and the lute, so, basically he can convince anyone of anything, and has weaseled his way out of the bottom two several times now. He’s also seduced 10/11 of the other bakers (not Angela), all three of the judges, and the host, by this point; plus all the viewers find him weirdly enchanting, so it’s like he just can’t go home, no matter how chaotic his bakes are. He really wanted that prize money.
2. Marcus from The Bear. Obviously the best baker here, and the only one who’s classically trained; he’s won the most challenges out of everyone. He really should have won the whole thing. But in the final challenge, he got a bit too heated and emotional, and ended up making one tiny mistake and being bested by…
1. Angela from The Office. The baddest B in TV history? I think so. Her bakes are simple but flawless. She’s neat as a pin; she’s been making little passive-aggressive remarks about the other contestants this whole time; viewers can’t stand her. She accepts the prize money with an icy little smile and says something about spending it all on her cats.
Side note: Obviously I know Marcus would be the rightful winner out of these twelve. But, if you’ve ever watched a baking competition show, you know that the ones who seem like the rightful winners are often not the actual winners: for reference, see: Juergen from GBBO, Romy from Spring Baking Championship S8, and Alex from Spring Baking Championship S10.
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What do you think? Did I choose the right winner? Who would you cast? I also made a Season Two!
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