This TEDTalk really made me happy. Finally, someone put it into words. Everyone has a closet, everyone goes through "hard" things. I think everyone should give this a listen and reflect on the beautiful message.
Friday, August 26, 2016
Being Agnostic
Many people do not have the slightest clue of what an "Agnostic" is. I'm here to inform you.
Agnostic at it's most simple definition is someone who does not have a solid belief on the debate of whether God exists or not. In a more detailed definition, it means I have no idea whether he exists or not but I'm quite sure that it is impossible to verify that. Other people just call it a lack of commitment towards believing or disbelieving. I'm okay with any of those definitions.
Being Agnostic in a Christian household isn't easy. I was forced to pray before dinner out of courtesy, I was forced to attend Church, and I was forced to say things like "thank God". My family did not understand how I could simply not believe. They thought it was a phase (if I could eliminate phase from the dictionary, I'd be the happiest woman alive). I do not pray, I do not go to Church and I most definitely do not say "thank God".
I believe in humanity. I believe that we should do good, be kind, be generous, be helpful and loving towards others because that is who we are, not because of the guarantee that we'll make it to some dreamland if we're good. I do not want a reward for doing my humanly duties. Now, don't get me wrong, I don't hate Churches or other people from different religions. I think it's quite amazing the power of the human mind, and how malleable it is. I think it's great that we can organize groups and spend time together on a certain day of a week and quite honestly, the feeling one gets while sitting at a lively Church is really overwhelming. What people do in Church is great work, really. I just don't like that it's all done for a reward at the end. Why do we need to be rewarded for being kind? For helping others? For living?
Now, let's please talk about this picture. Good grief, it's been haunting me all day. One of my friends posted it on Facebook and it's been bouncing around my head. In Spanish it says: "With Christ life is much more beautiful".
Let's take a moment and really reflect on this photo. I personally believe that people use religion and prayer to get out of the real grunt work of working for others and getting to the action. Example: instead of helping out a friend who needs someone to stay overnight in his hospital room, we pray that he gets better. If he gets better, we thank God because he obviously placed his hand on our friend and cured him. If he dies, we thank God because he's in a better place.
If someone gets run over by a car and manages to stay alive, we thank God and we say "what a miracle." If that same person gets run over and dies, we thank God because he's in a better place now and we pray to God that he gives his family strength to overcome the grief and see the bright side: that this person is now in heaven with God by his side. When does this stop?
The world is truly messed up. We, as the whole human kind, are capable of so many things. Good things, and bad things. Amazing things, and truly terrible things. The world is a healthy mix of both. Just because we see the good things in life, does not mean we are happy. Just because we see the crappy things in life, does not mean we are unhappy. We cannot fully stare at the good things and ignore the bad. That would be living a lie, and we cannot live a lie if we want to make a difference which should ultimately be every one's goal. We cannot let ourselves linger too long on the bad things, because we miss out on the good but we should be able to recognize the bad and do our best to change it. Life, at least as an Agnostic, is about a healthy mix of both. I do not believe I should fill every question with "God works in mysterious ways" but I also don't go around saying he doesn't exist because it is quite unbelievable that all of this came to be on it's own. I do not live my life according to some book, or some elaborate religion. I live my life according to my own principles, morals and values.
Thursday, August 25, 2016
Too Close To Home
My oldest sister was diagnosed with Breast Cancer in 2011. She was in remission for a year or so. This past March, she was diagnosed with Lung Cancer. It was the first time I'd ever heard her say: "I have about X time left."
Living with a family member that has Cancer is not easy. Yes, they are probably hurting and suffering a lot more, but Cancer doesn't just affect the patient. Everyone around them is affected too. Especially family. The ups and downs are a confusing emotional roller coaster. I used to keep my feelings hidden, because I thought: "I'm not the victim, I should focus on supporting her."
The truth is that you cannot support them if you do not take care of yourself first. Health-wise, emotionally, and spiritually. I stopped eating, then I couldn't sleep with the nightmares, and then I started shutting out my support group of friends. My moods were up and down and I felt like I was losing control of myself.
It is not easy to deal with the feelings of guilt (because those "I wish it were me and not them" thoughts are really damn loud sometimes), and the feelings of helplessness are enough to drive anyone mad. Sometimes, I'd go out with my friends and have a great time and once I got home I'd break down crying. I kept thinking: I wish she could be there too. I wish she could be laughing right beside me, feeling as good as I do at this moment.
Sometimes I hear a song about how you only have one life, and I'll break down crying. Sometimes a student or a professor makes a comment that reminds me of her, and I'll take a bathroom break to cry it out. I think of all the things I want her to experience, the things she wants to experience before leaving and I am incredibly worried that she will not have enough time to do it all. I think of her children and how they will feel. I think of losing them, the last thing I'll have left of her. I think of all the good times we've had together, and how grateful I am to have her in my life. Basically, I reflect every day on our relationship and how precious each relationship is. I do all that I can to keep that communication with her, and I try not to think about the soft tick tock of the clock.
If there's one thing I've learned during this time, it's this: you need to cry. Holding it in doesn't do any good. You have to be able to cry and let yourself feel sad for a little bit. Don't wallow in it, just let it be and it'll fade away.
Also, having a support system is vital. I have a handful of friends (I can count them and have fingers left) that I trust my life with. I tell them when something's wrong and I keep them up to date. If they're real friends, they'll know when to leave you alone.
And finally, you have the good days when you get good news about their treatment, or something good that's happened in their life. It's all about your perspective and keeping positive, but I find those days to be quite bittersweet. I cry but I smile. Cancer plays with your heartstrings, and it plays a poignant melody.
Living with a family member that has Cancer is not easy. Yes, they are probably hurting and suffering a lot more, but Cancer doesn't just affect the patient. Everyone around them is affected too. Especially family. The ups and downs are a confusing emotional roller coaster. I used to keep my feelings hidden, because I thought: "I'm not the victim, I should focus on supporting her."
The truth is that you cannot support them if you do not take care of yourself first. Health-wise, emotionally, and spiritually. I stopped eating, then I couldn't sleep with the nightmares, and then I started shutting out my support group of friends. My moods were up and down and I felt like I was losing control of myself.
It is not easy to deal with the feelings of guilt (because those "I wish it were me and not them" thoughts are really damn loud sometimes), and the feelings of helplessness are enough to drive anyone mad. Sometimes, I'd go out with my friends and have a great time and once I got home I'd break down crying. I kept thinking: I wish she could be there too. I wish she could be laughing right beside me, feeling as good as I do at this moment.
Sometimes I hear a song about how you only have one life, and I'll break down crying. Sometimes a student or a professor makes a comment that reminds me of her, and I'll take a bathroom break to cry it out. I think of all the things I want her to experience, the things she wants to experience before leaving and I am incredibly worried that she will not have enough time to do it all. I think of her children and how they will feel. I think of losing them, the last thing I'll have left of her. I think of all the good times we've had together, and how grateful I am to have her in my life. Basically, I reflect every day on our relationship and how precious each relationship is. I do all that I can to keep that communication with her, and I try not to think about the soft tick tock of the clock.
If there's one thing I've learned during this time, it's this: you need to cry. Holding it in doesn't do any good. You have to be able to cry and let yourself feel sad for a little bit. Don't wallow in it, just let it be and it'll fade away.
Also, having a support system is vital. I have a handful of friends (I can count them and have fingers left) that I trust my life with. I tell them when something's wrong and I keep them up to date. If they're real friends, they'll know when to leave you alone.
And finally, you have the good days when you get good news about their treatment, or something good that's happened in their life. It's all about your perspective and keeping positive, but I find those days to be quite bittersweet. I cry but I smile. Cancer plays with your heartstrings, and it plays a poignant melody.
My (bi)sexuality
Writing about sexuality is never easy. It is a unique process and experience to each individual, even if a large group of people can identify with the same label. On that note, I'd like to tell you a little story...
I'd always had crushes on boys. I thought they were cute, and they smelled good sometimes. My Mami would be so excited and encouraging when I came home ranting about a crush of mine who happened to smile in my direction (sort of, he would probably be squinting because the Sun was behind me). I could never imagine myself long-term with a guy, though. I just blamed it on my youth and thought that I wasn't ready for anything.
Teen years came, and boy crushes turned into something more solid. I didn't see them as crushes anymore, but as legitimate partners. I couldn't be with someone who wasn't my friend, so my first boyfriend had been my friend for about two years before I even thought of him as more. I chalked it up to having to know someone well before a relationship.
One day, I was talking with my best friend about the possibility of me having sex with my then-boyfriend. I remember very clearly not being excited at all at the idea.
"I just know that before I die, I want to have a threesome." Brave words coming from an inexperienced virgin, huh?
"What? You mean with two guys?" She asked, staring at me in a very suspicious and dreadful way. I shook my head, and stared back as if she were crazy.
"No, I mean with a girl." I remember using a "duh" tone here.
"But won't you feel weird?" She had asked. I thought about it for a few minutes, and decided that I enjoyed the thought of being with another woman in bed. I'd enjoy tending to her just as much as the male partner would. That's when I started to realize that maybe I was looking for love in the wrong places.
That conversation happened mid-December about two years ago. By May, I had dumped that boyfriend and started on a journey of self-discovery. I did not hook up with girls, nor did I hook with guys. I did not play with any one's feelings nor did I found myself flirting tirelessly. Instead, I spent that summer deep in thought. I thought about how I felt towards numerous situations, and how I would feel if I met a girl that inspired me to try.
August came, and so did my first year of college. Oh, college. There, I met a girl. We'll name her Susan for Blog purposes. Susan is beautiful, confident, talented, smart, courageous, funny, sarcastic, caring, loving, stubborn, compassionate, kind, generous, patient, passionate and quite lovely to look at.
The thing is, even if Susan weren't in the picture, I knew what I was by the end of that summer. I knew that I wouldn't mind if I ended up with a woman as my partner-in-life, and I wouldn't mind if I'd end up with a man. Bisexuals get so much trouble in the community because we're seen as "indecisive" or "flirtatious" or "greedy". Being bisexual doesn't mean we're not faithful. It doesn't mean that we'll have multiple partners (see "Polyamory"). It simply means that I might have past partners that are women, or men. It means that I do not choose my partner based on gender, but based on how they make me feel. Being with a female partner now does not make me a lesbian. Being with a male partner in the future does not make me straight. I will forever and always be bisexual.
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