Complain

I was in a foul mood after cycling home from uni one day. Walking into the family room, the first unfortunate person to come into contact with me was my dad. “The traffic out there is ridiculous!” I raged. “It took me at least ten minutes to cross each major road. Cycling in peak hour sucks!”

Dad, a keen cycler himself, leapt to the rescue. “You know, you could always go to the nearest set of traffic lights and wait there, it’d probably be quicker. Actually, there’s probably a better route you could take. Let’s get out the Melways, I’ll show you the way I ride”.

I knew dad was trying to help – he was showing me he cared about my problem. But instead of being grateful for the advice, I just got angrier. “I’ve already worked out a way to get to uni! The traffic is just impossible!”

It’s not that I didn’t need a solution to my problem, and I did end up taking some quieter back streets to avoid those main roads. At that moment though, my main issue wasn’t actually the traffic, it was feeling frustrated. I didn’t want an answer, I just wanted to complain.

There’s a lot that gets said about fundamental differences between men and women. People say that men are more logical, women are more emotional, and usually I find this a sweeping generalisation that’s rarely fair.

In the case of complaining though, I have to admit that I’ve found a pattern. If I told my mum or sisters about how annoying it was to get home that day, I doubt they would’ve presented me with something different to try. Instead, they probably would’ve said, “that sucks. I know what you mean though, the traffic was really slow on my way home too.”

That’s why I find this ad so amusing –the ‘perfect’ man says, “when there are no women to listen to, I practice my listening face”. It pokes fun directly at this divide between men wanting to fix things and women wanting to understand.

Complaining, in moderation, is a way that people put their problems into words, vent their frustrations and – most importantly – seek empathy. No matter what problems we face, the worst part about them is feeling alone.

If you’ve ever found it more comforting to confide in someone facing the same challenge as you are, you probably know what it is to feel better through feeling understood.

Once when I was having trouble getting through to a friend, I talked to someone for an hour about different approaches, tactics to try, ways to manage my stress levels and what was going wrong with the current situation. After the conversation, I reflected that the best and most helpful thing she had said was, “that must be really hard for you”.

It’s great to get advice from someone who cares about you, and problems do need to be fixed in the end. But sometimes, what you really need is just to be heard.

Ridiculous

In 1959, a nine-year-old boy went to a library to borrow books to quench his thirst for knowledge. And he was refused. Because he was badly-behaved? No. Because there wasn’t an adult with him? No.

It was because the library didn’t lend books to black people.

Fast-forward about twenty years and Dr Ronald E McNair held a PhD in physics from Massachusetts Institute of Technology and was a specialist in laser physics. The idea of refusing him books at a library because of his race seems, to us in Australia in 2011, ridiculous. Who cares if someone’s black? Or a child? Or religious, or a woman, or gay? Shouldn’t they be allowed the same privileges as the rest of their society?

The sense of injustice I felt when learning about the refusal of books is very similar to the way I feel about the current legislation against gay marriage. I don’t see being gay as a disadvantage, or a handicap, or as a problem. Human rights should apply to all humans. And I don’t understand why a rational government would prohibit gay people from marrying each other and being allowed the same rights as people who, through no conscious decision of their own, happen to be heterosexual.

Apart from an unsatisfying move by Centrelink that accepts de facto relationships into their system (purely because it means they can pay people less if their partner earns a certain amount), the changes to gay marriage have been slow despite the fact that 60 per cent of Australians support it.

The shifts are coming. Gay marriage is on the political agenda now, with Penny Wong openly in favour of it. Hasn’t convinced J-Gil yet, but it must be tough being in politics and trying to keep everyone happy.

I’m glad that things are changing, however slow. I hope not only that change will come, but that when we look back in another fifty years, that the idea of not letting two people get married just because they’re gay will seem just as ridiculous as not letting someone borrow a book just because they’re black.

What is love? (baby don’t hurt me, don’t hurt me no more)

My sister is flying to Paris on Valentine’s Day for a holiday with her long-time boyfriend.

Bitch.

Massive, serious, major bitch.

I’m so jealous I could take someone’s eye out. Paris? Valentine’s Day? It’s more romantic than a movie with Hugh Grant in it. In fact if there’s a last-minute run to the airport to declare someone’s undying love, I’ll film the bloody thing myself and post it off to Hollywood.

But thankfully for my overly introspective nature, while I was seething I did remember that love doesn’t just come in Valentine’s Day flights or Hallmark cards. To me, love is doesn’t have to be a grand gesture or even saying three words – it’s the little things that happen every day that make me remember I have love in my life.

Love is putting your obscenely loud car in neutral and slowly rolling towards my house to avoid waking up my parents at 1.00am

Love is letting me give out your address instead of mine to someone I met on the Internet in case they turn out to be a crazy rapist

Love is the ‘how did you pull up?’ message the morning after a big night

Love is getting out the Melways and showing me the cycling route to work with the least traffic and widest roads even though I’m rolling my eyes the whole time

Love is lending me your favourite hair clip to wear on a Saturday night

Love is holding my hand to a favourite song

Love is telling me I look like an idiot with my bike gloves around the wrong way

Love is coming out to a late coffee even when you have a 6.30am start the next day

Love is sending me e-hugs when I’ve had a shitty day

Love is showing me which high heels will be the least painful for my seriously sensitive feet

Love is curling my hair before a party because I still can’t work out how to do it myself

Love is buying a merlot for family dinners when you prefer a cabernet savignon

Love is always asking me if I want a coffee when you’re going out although I say no every time

Love is telling me “you didn’t miss anything” after I can’t make it to a party

Love is posting me a book in the mail just because you thought I’d like it

Love is demanding that I message you the very second I get home to let you know I got there safely

Love is home-made pyjama pants

If you look for it; love is, as the Whitlams sing, everywhere.

Liking the abuse

I was furious the first time I heard ‘Love the Way You Lie’ by Eminem and Rhianna. Coming out not long after the pop star was violently abused by then partner Chris Brown, I couldn’t believe that she was prettily singing, “Just gonna stand there and watch me burn, well that’s alright because I like the way it hurts”.

It’s not alright, I seethed. That Rhianna, supporting domestic abuse again. First she doesn’t leave Brown after he beats her up, and now she’s glamourising it? What a terrible role model!

Rihanna after being assaulted by Chris Brown

Psychiatrist Dr Michael J. Gerson agreed with my first reaction when he said, “It chills me to think that young people could easily embrace this song as a model for love and desire. I see abused children, spouses, partners and students carry the emotional scars that punctuate their life stories and define their self-concepts”. Right on!

Just recently though, I caught myself happily singing along to ‘Self-Esteem’ by the Offspring, with its chorus of “I know I’m being used, but that’s okay because I like the abuse”.

I love this song, I thought. It’s hilarious. Then I realised I’d put myself in a very hypocritical position. Why am I so outraged about Rhianna appearing to condone abuse, but I find it amusing when Dexter Holland says exactly the same thing?

The messages behind the songs are very similar – both artists here are commenting on the nature of an abusive relationship by seemingly glorifying it. Holland in ‘Self-Esteem’ is really just as provocative as Rihanna on the issue, singing, “the more you suffer, the more it shows you really care – right?”

When I listen to Rihanna singing that chorus, I hear her saying domestic abuse is okay. When Holland sings ‘Self-Esteem’, I hear a satire of the issue. Then again, I could take Holland more seriously. He had a close friend who was sexually abused when he was in high school, and given that most violence against men goes unreported it could be that Holland is using his position as a celebrity to draw attention to the issue. And who am I to say that Rihanna isn’t doing just the same thing?

Still from the 'Love the Way You Lie' video clip

Maybe both Rihanna and Holland are speaking out against domestic violence. Maybe neither of them are because they’re manufactured celebrities who would just say anything as long as it sells. Rihanna is releasing a sequel to the song in November, and maybe I’ll change my mind again when it comes out.

But as someone who likes to say she believes in equality for men and women, I’m starting to think I shouldn’t have two sets of judgements for the same message.

Honesty

Since I’ll be graduating from my Media and Communications degree at the end of the year, I am currently faced with the rather onerous task of deciding what to do with the rest of my life. Making even the simplest of choices is a challenge for me, so I’ve been finding out what other people think I should do – and I’ve really appreciated how honest they’ve been.

I’ve heard that I’m young and I should be making as many mistakes as I can, that if I’m offered any job I should take it because they don’t come around every day, that doing an Honours year will help me find the career of my dreams, that I could regret not doing Honours while I had the chance, that I should take a year off to travel, that I should do whatever it takes to make me happy, and that becoming an academic is a waste of time.

All those opinions are people being honest with me – and I’ve noticed that being honest doesn’t necessarily mean that you’re right. Everyone has their own truth.

I like to be honest in the same way I want other people to be honest with me. Telling someone what you really think isn’t always easy, and some things are best kept to yourself. On the other hand, sometimes people need to know the truth. In high school when I was mad about this guy who was older than me, I was crushed to find out one of my girlfriends thought I was “following him around like a bad smell”. Ouch. Especially ouch because I absolutely was.

In the years since, I’ve had honest moments in my life that cut between all the politeness and white lies of every day. You can’t tell the truth about every bloody thing, you’d offend far too many people for no good reason, not to mention the time wasting that would go on if you were honest when people asked, “how are you?” It’s unproductive. But honest moments will always be the sharpest, whether it’s admitting to yourself that you can’t be liked by everyone, finding out that someone truly loves you – or just honestly being scared of not knowing what to do next year.

Replacements

I found an online recipe for chocolate-peanut dipped banana pops today, tagged with ‘boyfriendreplacement’.

Now, I’m going to ignore the obvious Freudian references to penises here and ask: do people seriously think they can replace partners with chocolate?

There’s a whole website called Boyfriend Replacement that sells ‘fresh, whimsical gifts to cheer up your girlfriends or yourself’. It sells chocolate, t-shirts with slogans like ‘you don’t deserve me’ on them, journals and bubble bath. These things are supposed to ‘replace’ your boyfriend, not help you get over him. Now, it’s been widely reported that chocolate contains endorphins which boost your mood, but I don’t quite see it compensating for an entire relationship.

And it’s not just girls who are looking for someone special without the actual someone. There’s a virtual girlfriend projection that a lonely dude invented to feel less alone in bed – she responds to movement, so it’s supposed to feel like there’s someone lying next to you.

This idea of replacing people is so ridiculous, and it’s not just because of the simple fact that nothing, not chocolate, books, bubble baths or even stupid boy-shaped pillows can replace a real person, even with all the clever marketing and fake sleeves in the world.

It’s mostly ridiculous because having a ‘boyfriend/girlfriend replacement’ puts the focus right back on what the person’s missing – a partner. It’s like when people say, “don’t think of big black hairy spiders,” and then ask you what you’re thinking about. Of course it’s going to be spiders. It’s not going to help anyone feel less alone if all they have surrounding them is reminders of how lonely they are.

Those frozen bananas dipped in chocolate and peanut butter look awesome – I’m going to have a try at making some later on. And when I do, it will be because I think they’ll be delicious, not to replace a person.