Full Thoughts

I’ve come to realize that “Pretty Privilege is a double-edged sword”. And that is to say, that while being perceived as exhibiting traits deemed “pretty” by society can make things easier, it can also make things harder. I don’t want this to be a “Woe is me, I’m cursed with beauty” piece, but these are my thoughts and realizations about societal privileges and the potential unintended negative effects I personally have realized that can come with putting effort into my appearance. I will develop this idea as I type so hold on tight and be prepared for twists, turns, and backtracking. You’ve all been warned and if you wish to continue, I suppose you’ve been enticed.

A story to start; A gentleman with a substantial beard got on the bus I was on while leaving work on a Sunday afternoon. From everyone I personally know who has had a substantial beard, it’s hard work. Like any long hair, it takes time to grow, effort to maintain, and gumption to wear proudly and I respect it. (He just got off by the way as I write this). As he headed down the bus aisle, I told him “Solid Beard dude” and he said “thanks” and sat down across the aisle one row in front of me. He would intermittently engage in conversation, “What’s your name,” “you live around here?”, “how old are you?”, “do you work out?”. I gave him truthful answers because I was being polite and had nothing to hide and he also gave seemingly truthful answers when I asked him questions I had an interest in knowing about him. And then he asked the one question that changed everything for some reason. “Are you in a relationship?” “Yes I am” I told him truthfully. And before I even finished the sentence he turned around and stopped asking questions with a much longer period of silence before he chose to speak again. He offered to exchange numbers if I ever wanted to work out, even though he said he didn’t have his phone on him at the time, but I politely declined and that was the end of that interaction. I texted my boyfriend to share this interaction with him just to process it a little more and ended the text message with the words “Pretty Privilege is a double-edged sword”. Then I got out my laptop and started writing. 15 or so stops later the bearded gentleman walked off without saying a word or looking back.

I just want to say, I genuinely respect him for shooting his shot and not being rude or disrespectful. I also want to say, no one did anything wrong in this situation, but… back to the thesis; pretty privilege is a double-edged sword. “Pretty privilege” is a societal phenomenon where individuals who align with a societies version of what is understood as “pretty” or “attractive”, are granted privileges by others who recognize “attractiveness”. Or simply put, “Good looking people get treated better in society because they look good”. ! wear what I want and look how I want because I love myself and I deserve to love the way I look. And as I got older more people noticed and I noticed a shift in how I was treated. Validation is great, but there is no love like self-love, or maybe it’s confidence, who knows? (I could also very well just be obsessed with myself, but that’s probably another blog post. *wink*) Any matter, I noticed a difference in how people treated me when I wore floral dresses, had my hair down, and when I really started “feeling myself”. It didn’t happen instantly, but it did happen gradually and more so when I put more effort into my visual aesthetic and appearance compared to when I put in less effort. (Y’all get it, I think I’m hot). Most people don’t need this explained to them, but it really didn’t click for me until I was in my mid-20's, just how significantly different individuals who are deemed by societal standards and “check certain boxes” so to say, get treated compared to individuals who, deemed by societal standards, do not “check certain boxes”.

Personally, I think it’s awful. People should not be treated any differently because of how they look. Period. Unfortunately, it seems to be something so deeply ingrained in society and the human psyche, (because of society), but that’s neither here nor there, back to the thesis about why “pretty privilege is a double-edged sword”. Those that know me well enough have some understanding of my “combat” and “weaponry” motifs I often tend to utilize in my vernacular and sayings… “There’s always casualties in war”, “Keep your blades sharp and your mind sharper”, so it was fitting that once I realized I was experiencing “pretty privilege”, I interpreted it as "a weapon", or rather "a sword, to yield”. I started this paragraph stating that I do not like that the “pretty privilege” phenomenon exists, but because I wanted to look good for myself, anyone who agreed with what I thought looked good, now also agreed that I looked good to them. (NOT FOR THEM! *Calming breath*) I don’t want to perpetuate this phenomenon or take advantage of people’s human psyche which is why I do my best to treat this “pretty privilege” that I have as I would an actual "sword to yield". Sometimes to “attack” and sometimes to “defend”. I understand that because I genuinely like smiling at library visitors, (or really any random stranger), and take a genuine interest in people’s lives, they appreciate that and recognize me for it. I once saw someone I knew who appreciated and recognized me and who also happened to be in charge of event parking for a work event. Did I use pretty privilege so my boyfriend didn’t have to carry his project on a shuttle from a lot down the road like everyone else? Yes. Absolutely yes. Maybe this is just “being nice to others can result others being nice to me”, but I like to think I’ve lived long enough to notice the difference of people appreciating me subjectively for who I am and people appreciating me objectively for “what” I am. (Also recommending looking up what “weaponized femininity” is). And when I step in to talk to patrons who regularly behave unruly with my coworkers because I know patrons give me more grace and patience (and smiles, and un-funny jokes, and glances elsewhere besides my eyes, (leaving it at that)), I deem that I am using it for defense.

Okay. So, it’s a weapon I yield, got it, but there’s a specific reason I now just realized that pretty privilege is a “double edged” sword. It cuts both ways. Sometimes people will give me privilege because of my appearance whether I realize it or not. I saw an individual today with a beard that I knew took time to grow, put in the effort to maintain, and had the moxie to wear a beard. I also want to mention here that I have no preference or averseness to the visual aesthetic of beards or any kind of facial hair. I appreciate what the beard represents subjectively of the person’s personality, not objectively for any of its physical or visual traits. So, in recognition of this gentleman’s time, effort, and spunk that his beard conveyed I told him “Solid beard dude” because I wanted him to know that his time, effort, and tenacity, was recognized and respected by another human being.

But… it would be remis of me to believe that I can give genuine compliments people without understanding that some people may interpret it as me utilizing pretty privilege to obtain something I want from them and them feeling the urge to potentially give me what they may perceive I want. 5 years ago, I’m certain I gave plenty of gentlemen a “Solid beard dude” and never got asked if I was in a relationship or asked for my number, but I also don’t believe I had pretty privilege back then. I did not want this privilege. I still don’t because I don’t want it to exist at all. It is a way society deems some people as better or worse on superficial, exploitable, and hollow merits other than the contents of their character. And it’s another way for people to compare themselves to others and put themselves down. Because I want to look the way I look, I now have a floral patterned, smooth skinned, and well spoken, sword I carry around in society and when I want to be perceived as “pretty” and use pretty privilege, I bear my sword and engage in social combat. And when I don’t want to be seen as pretty, but someone deems me so, my sword is unsheathed whether I want it to be or not and I have to be even more conscious and careful when navigating conversation and situations. Because the thing about “pretty privilege” is that it is “transactional”. “Pretty” is offered by one party (the deemed “pretty” individual) and then “privilege” is given in exchange by the other party (the member(s) of society recognizing the “pretty” individual). Privilege seems great until one remembers that it comes at a cost. But “pretty” is not an item someone has control over of how and when they use it, it is, as “beauty” is, in the eye of the beholder.

When someone may see “pretty” and offers “privilege” in exchange for that “pretty” that’s where things can get complicated. Whether or not someone intentionally put effort into their appearance or not, if someone sees someone else as “pretty” and begins to give them “privilege” (in the form of attention, compliments, and other social or tangible offerings), according to the societal transactional practice of pretty privilege, the giver of the privilege may be under the impression that when they give privilege (prompted or not) to someone they deem pretty, the privilege granter may now feel entitled to a person’s “prettiness” and more often than not, through an objective context. Privilege can come in the form of a seat on the bus, entrance to an establishment, or one might even consider their time, attention, or compliments a privilege. But when one deconstructs a person’s “prettiness” objectively in the form of a visual object to give their attention to and potentially gain any benefit from, this creates a very unbalanced and unconsented expectation for someone who offered nothing at all to anyone for anything. The “Privilege”, whatever form it may take is often deemed by the individual giving the privilege to the deemed “pretty” person. In my parking spot example, I asked for the privilege I wanted, a parking spot. But in my interaction on the bus, I didn’t ask for attention or a potential romantic partner, nor consent to an exchange of anything, but I looked good (as I always do), given a compliment (as I often receive), and I genuinely believe I was perceived by this gentleman to be offering something and in exchange I was offered the potential privilege of his time, attention, and prospect of more from this gentleman.  

At the end of this essay, I’m not even sure how I feel about it all. Pretty privilege is a social construct. Some people care more about looks than others and the meanings behind “Beauty” and “Pretty” and even “solid beard dude” are all SOOOO subjective (and to some Objective) and as much as I feel like I’ve thought about this experience and these thoughts, I still feel like I’m missing something, but I think I’m done thinking about it. At least for now.

And to at least end this on a happier note, 7 months ago, a different gentleman I had gotten to know as a friend for a few months shared his appreciation of how strong my arms, back, and shoulders looked when I drew back my heavy longbow. An objective observation? Sure. Did I ask him for this compliment? No. But when I used my pretty privilege and told him how he should ask me to be his girlfriend, he gave me exactly what I wanted, and we’ve been together ever since. Happy 7 months, Hun. *smile* ;3~<333 Take care. ~Enjoy

I am genuinely grateful that I got cheated on. Sounds crazy, right? I’ll admit, maybe I’m still in shock about everything that has happened the past 6 days and perhaps I’m just trying to convince myself of the idea that “I’m okay”. But I’ve recognized that I am exceptional at feeling my feelings, processing the “what” and “why” of my life, and finding value in every experience I get to live. And after everything that has happened, I feel I am genuinely grateful because the lessons, realizations, and the experiences that I gained and got to process from being cheated on, have resulted in my life becoming better.

Now… That being said, I want to make a few things very clear before I get into the positive revelations of this essay.

One.                      Cheating on someone is wrong. Feeling differently about a partner or feeling emotions or urges for someone else is completely valid. I believe feelings should be felt and communicated. Understandings between partners of what form of relationship people have, should also be discussed and understood, and it is okay if that changes. But cheating never needs to happen.

Two.                      I am giving just the slightest amount of credit to my former partner for improving my life, only due to the circumstantial fact that, them choosing to cheat on me was the catalyst for me to do what I did and improve my life in the ways that I did. I genuinely thanked my former partner for cheating on me, and shared with them the simple explanation, that what they did gave me a unique opportunity to improve my life and thankfully, I did. So, I am giving myself and my incredible support system of friends, the immeasurable majority of the credit for my life becoming better after this. My friends who spoke with me about my feelings, who listened to me, who supported me and my decisions, who shared their honest perspectives, and who love me. So, Shout Out to Myself and the Real Ones who know exactly who they are! Thank you, and Love ya! <333 c;

Three.                 This piece of writing will not be me retelling the details of how I got cheated on. I will not be using names and want this essay to be about what I gained from being cheated on. (If you would like to know the story and details, just ask me and I might share, I might not.) But this is my blog, and I do what I want with it, and it is not about anyone else if I don’t want it to be. Furthermore, I still care about the other two individuals involved, because I believe in basic human decency, and I don’t want to be someone who spreads other’s business, even if it is also my business, with the express intent or significant likelihood of possibly resulting in any form of harm being done unto others. The entire universe craves balance and that’s something even I couldn’t stop if I wanted to, but I respectfully request anyone reading this, to not harass or retaliate against anyone for any reason.  

Okay. So, here we go. After I found out I was cheated on, I felt; sadness, anger, inferiority, confusion, and just… so many intense emotions. *deep breath* Naturally so. One of the first things I asked myself and my former partner was; “what did I do wrong”? And they said “nothing”. Which I honestly felt I didn’t do anything wrong, but I know I am not perfect and wanted to genuinely ask, just in case there was something I missed. But when I heard the answer that I essentially knew was true, I was vindicated. Not by my former partner, but by myself. And everyone else that I spoke with about this.

             And as the story unfolded and I had conversation after conversation with people who had known me essentially my entire life as well as complete strangers, I realized that despite everything I was feeling and even though I was cheated on, I was nothing less than who I was before. And I was an incredible, intelligent, strong, BEA-U-TI-FUL woman. And after I was cheated on, I wasn’t even just not “less than”, I was now so much more than who I was before. Because an undeniable truth about me is, I spent the first 25 years of my life feeling like I was less than who I truly was, and once I realized I was the only one who could devalue myself, I took it as a personal challenge from anyone I would encounter who felt they could make me feel “less than” and not let them. And after all the attempts to do so from my father, my ex-wife, the military that almost kicked me out, the strangers that only wanted 1 thing from me, and everyone else who may have tried, the ex that cheated on me and the person they cheated on me with, didn’t stand a single chance against me. No one did. And since becoming the woman that I am and realizing some undeniable social frameworks in society, I have lived enough to “never let a man” and his actions devalue me as a woman. It is a common sentiment in society and a phrase that would gain such a profound sentience and ferocity in my life like it never had before.

             When my former partner finally confessed to what they did, I didn’t know what to do. But whenever anything happens in my life, I reach out to the people that I feel care about what’s going on with me. The people who I feel would be willing to engage in conversation with me about anything and everything, to make some sense of it all. To possibly formulate the best realizations to take from what has happened, and recognize the value from living those life experiences. But because me and the ex’s friend groups were so closely interconnected, I suddenly was faced with the feeling of not being able to reach out to so many of the incredible people in my life for the sake of “keeping their secret” and maintaining the positive image of the ex for so many of their and my friends. I truly felt so alone when I realized that, and it is because I had felt that same loneliness in my life before. I had kept the dark truths about my family a secret as well as the awful details of my own marriage a secret from so many people. I absolutely loathe that feeling of keeping anything in my life a secret. Even worse so, keeping secrets and pretending like everything in my life was great had been such a fundamental element of my childhood. I realized later in life that I could even keep secrets and truths from my conscious self. And not consciously realizing that I was ashamed, sad, angry, scared, or even just confused about something that was poisoning my life from the inside, was truly one of the most painful and harmful actions that I could ever do to myself. However, once I began to realize that I didn’t have to keep my problems and struggles a secret from anyone, nor did I want to, I became so free. All the (metaphorical) bullets and arrows I thought I had dodged my whole life were suddenly so apparent and I had to look down and see myself (metaphorically) riddled with holes and bleeding my life away. But I now could recognize the aspects of my life, and who I was, that were harming myself, and preventing myself from becoming who I wanted to be. And I could now tell myself the painful and scary truth that I wasn’t who I wanted to be and that it was up to me to believe and become who I wanted to be. *smile* And gosh darn it, if that isn’t self-love, genuinely believing you can be better, I don’t know what is. But, to conclude this entire point, after the quick thoughts of “what did I do wrong?” and the feelings that maybe “I was inferior”, I did what I always did and looked down at myself (metaphorically and literally) covered in scars from the events in my life that had hurt me before and that I had had healed from, and I realized… me being cheated on, barely left a scratch. Not because being cheated on isn’t a devastatingly powerful blow to the one that it happens to, but because my skin and my self-esteem has become a steel abyss, that even after taking off all the armor I did in the relationship, no one but me, could break me.

I told my former partner, who I did not break up with immediately after they told me that they cheated, that if they still wanted to be with me, we were “not going to be a couple with a shameful secret”. I also stated that I fully intended to reach out to my support system, as one might do after being cheated on. (And real quick… Oh! My! Goodness! Y’all! Came! Through! <333 Never in my life, not even coming out as transgender, had I ever felt more support, honesty, love, empowerment, and validation for being an incredible person. *Deep Breath*) When I had no idea how to feel or what to think about something that I had felt so conflicted and confused about, everyone I spoke to constantly reminded me that I was amazing and did nothing wrong. I had never been cheated on before this, and did not immediately end things when I found out because I was not sure if that was what I genuinely wanted to happen. But not a single person I shared what happened with told me to stay in the relationship, nor did they make me feel “less than” for not immediately breaking up with the individual who cheated on me. They told me their honest opinions and their own perspectives even though they contrasted with the decision I had made to stay in the relationship at the time. Even though no one agreed with the decision to stay with the individual who cheated on me and try to work things out, my friends supported me and my decision and told me they would love and support me no matter what. And after the ex ended the relationship and admitted that their feelings had changed about me, I felt angry and sad of course, but also incredibly unencumbered, alleviated, and unconflicted about sharing what happened and my thoughts and feelings about it all with everyone. And share it with everyone is exactly what I did, as I always have. When I entered the relationship, I had shared with everyone how incredible I felt the ex was because I am someone who shares things with the people I love and wears their heart on their sleeve. So, when I realized the ex was not who I told everyone the ex was, me not updating my loved ones about this major aspect of my life, would feel like lying to them and letting them believe something that wasn’t true. (And I had just recently learned how “not great” it felt to be led to believe something that wasn’t true.) And as stated before, y’all came through for me. When the ex ended the relationship, it felt like a shot through the heart. So instead of clutching my chest and withering in agony to hide my wound and suffer and process alone in shame, I opened my arms and showed the world that I had been shot. Because again, I did not know how to feel or what to do and reached out to the incredible friends that I felt could and wanted to help me. Earlier I stated how I “looked down” and “realized… me being cheated on, barely left a scratch”. Just like before in my life, I was afraid to see that gaping and bleeding hole in my chest, but practically everyone who I reached out to responded that; I was amazing, that there was nothing wrong with me, and that I was going to be fine. They knew me and they told me not only how strong they know me to be, but that this otherwise devastating event to happen to anyone would somehow make me stronger. And I looked down. *smirk* And gosh darn it they were, So. Freaking. Right. And as surprised as I was at how okay I was already feeling about what happened, I wasn’t too surprised at all. And neither was anyone else who knew me. They were just as amazed with me as they always had been and now even more so. And they were happy and proud of me for being me. And after losing the supposed (second) “love of my life”, I truly realized in the most amazing and incredible sense that I would always be loved and that I would never be alone.

Thankfully, the day after I was dumped, I didn’t have work, and after reaching out about the breakup, I had an abundance of friends wanting to spend time with me. So, I left the house and went around town chatting it up, getting food, helping another move some furniture and petting their cats, laying out in the sun on a rooftop, and getting Slurpee’s from 7/11 on the first pretty toasty day of the year. I had sushi with some friends later that day and realized I had missed my bus to make it on time, so I decided to get just a quick Lyft ride and started walking to the pick-up spot. While waiting to cross the street at the crosswalk and looking down at my phone to make sure I was going to the right pick up spot, a woman next to me on the phone suddenly spoke up and said, “you have amazing looking arms”. *Me: Looked at my arms* “I Do!” I responded. “Thank you! I’ve been working on them!”. She smiled and nodded, “I can see that, and it shows” she replied, and returned to her phone call, as the crosswalk signal chirped. Overhearing the phone call while crossing the street, I chimed in to support her reasons for telling her friend on the other line to get black and white converse. (They do indeed go with everything). I was on such a high from this random beautiful stranger just giving me a compliment about something that I genuinely am so proud of. And just not a month before this all happened, I had asked the ex if they had noticed my arms appeared more muscular since they had met me, especially after all the hard work I had been putting in to become stronger. I remember the ex telling me something along the lines of “I can’t say for sure without comparing you now to an older photo side by side” but however I felt about the ex’s response, it was NOTH.ING. compared to the compliment and validation I received from a complete stranger. And later I realized something that I intend to take with me and share with as many people as I feel will listen and that is this; As a woman, I have this subtle appeal to be validated by men. Which is misogynistic influence and is NOT okay for so many reasons and we WILL talk about that later, but for now here’s why I bring it up. I got validation as a woman from the ex, but after the woman in at the crosswalk who I did not know, gave me this incredible feeling, I realized something. And that is how often I hear so many other incredible women and non-binary individuals, that I both know and don’t know, consistently compliment me for my appearance and attributes. And how uplifting, validating, and empowering it is and just how it genuinely feels better receiving compliments from women and non-binary individuals, compared to receiving compliments from most men. (Y’all know the exceptions and I love y’all. <333) Because what happens when I receive a compliment from a most men is, I may say “thank you” or ignore it, or whatever else, and that little voice in my head may give a genuine, but sometimes unenthusiastic “yay…”. But when non-binary individuals and women compliment each other, it is so often a perpetual engine of exchanging positivity and genuine appreciation and it is also usually, THE. BEST. part of my day. I’m writing an entire paragraph about it in the essay about why I was glad I got cheated on. THAT’S how great getting complimented by women, non-binary individuals, and the exceptional fellas, truly is. And no one should ever have to rely on “a man”, or any one person, for validation. Not that men are unable to give genuine compliments and validation to others, but I think y’all know what I mean and if not, reach out and I’ll compliment you and I’m certain you’ll get what I mean. c; Shout out to the bro’s thought too. The Real Ones. Y’all are cool. *Shakas*

Okay. I’m already more than 2700 words into this essay about why I’m genuinely grateful I got cheated on, and oh my goodness why couldn’t I work this hard in high school or college? But! This will be a final, very important point I share about why I’m grateful I was cheated on and it is truly something incredible. I’ll start with a story. I was walking to my Lyft pick-up spot, just after being complimented by the gorgeous woman who noticed how great my arms are, and without even knowing the type of car I was getting picked up in, I see a grey SUV slowly driving on the street towards me and a woman scanning the sidewalk in search of something. I hold up my phone and we make eye contact before she pulls up next to me, rolls down the window, and says my name. “Alexandria?” It’s the name I don’t hear often and so it’s nice to hear it every once in a while from strangers who don’t know me. I smile and nod, still beaming from my last stranger interaction and hop in the back seat. It was going to be a short 11-minute car ride to my destination and so I figured that whatever conversation I would have would be brief and short, but that never stopped me from enjoying a good ole “no strings attached chit chat” with a stranger. After greeting the woman and getting in, I closed the door, buckled up, and just sat down for a bit to catch my breath and suddenly remembered my life and thought to myself; “Hmm… I was just broken up with yesterday after being cheated on for the first time. And I feel like I’m honestly doing okay”. “Do you go to UCR?” The woman driving me asks, snapping me out of the realization I was having. “Oh No, but I live close by!” I respond. (For the past 7 months my usual response to that question had been, “No, but my boyfriend does” and then I’d talk about him and just absolutely fail the Bechdel test every freakin time. *Shrugs* We live and we learn. *counts months on fingers* Whoops, 8 months. XD Already forgot how long we were together. *fails Bechdel test again*) I tell the woman how I grew up close to UCR and enjoy living in the area before asking her how long she had been in Riverside. We both are still just explaining surface level information about where we’ve lived and the weather until that conversation reaches a natural lull and I ask out of nowhere “are you in a relationship?” The, late 30’s maybe 40 something year old woman eyes me in the rearview mirror suspiciously and offers an almost confused “no…” probably with no idea where the conversation was going. I wasn’t too sure myself. “Neither am I” I responded. “I just got cheated on and dumped and so I’m just trying to figure out what a relationship is again”. She’s quiet for just a few powerful moments before she responded with something along the lines of “I’m so sorry that happened to you”. There’s maybe 6 minutes left of the car ride at that point. I shared with her my feelings and thoughts about how, despite the break up and cheating just happening days ago and it being the first time I had ever been cheated on, I genuinely was feeling okay. I admitted I felt most of the intense feelings when it all happened, but I also shred that I was already feeling better and just trying to make sense of it all. And then, without missing a beat, she begins to share with me her story about how she was once cheated on too. And for no more than 5 minutes me and this complete stranger talked about the feelings we both felt after we found out we had been cheated on. We talked about finding out and feeling alone. About breaking-up and divorce. About resiliency and self-sufficiency. About self-love and about our support systems. And as she pulled onto my street, I realized I felt so incredibly close and connected with this incredible, strong, and beautiful woman who I had never met before and would probably never meet again. This complete stranger who I almost didn’t meet because I didn’t want to spend 13 dollars for a Lyft ride, but did anyways. This woman who, between her and I, had something very incredible about ourselves that we now shared, and that we didn’t share just a few days ago. And the incredible thing that her and I now share is not “that we were both cheated on”. No. What she and I now have in common is; that we are so incredibly strong, beautiful, and thriving because we did not let anyone, or their actions devalue us. I put my hand on her shoulder as she rolled to a stop in front of my house and she placed her hand over mine. I told her how amazing she is and how I am so grateful she talked with me and picked me up and how the Lyft ride was worth way more than $13. She smiled and laughed and thanked me too. As I opened the door and began to step out, we both almost said the exact same words at the exact same time. “You’re the best”. We laughed together and exchanged increasingly more enthusiastic retorts of “No YOU’RE the Best!” before I said; “We’re the best”. She smiled and said; “You’re beautiful”. I smiled back and replied, “You’re beautiful!” She glowed and smiled warm, powerful, and soft. Telling her she was beautiful felt like hugging her and her smile felt like her hugging me back. “We’re beautiful” I declare, with a strength and softness just like her and I. She nods “We are beautiful” she responds with the same strength and softness, and I felt how much it meant for her to call herself beautiful alongside me. I finally tell her “Thank you” and give the ole’ “Take care. ~Enjoy” and she responded “Thank you” and I closed the door. I gave her a custom tip and rounded out the total to 20 bucks and just walked into the house just beaming and honestly probably close to tears. My Ma was in the living room and I asked how she’s doing, plopping down on the couch before she asks me “How are you doing sweetie?”. I probably took a deep breath and smiled, “Honesty… really good” I probably responded before I began to recount my Lyft ride, processing in real time, what it meant, and really began to realize, and spoke out loud for the first time, the title of this essay. I realized I am now part of this exclusive group of incredible, indomitable, resilient, beautiful, and powerful women and individuals who not just have been cheated on, but who have survived and thrived afterwards. (4:44) An incredible group of people who received something no one deserves and yet refused to let someone’s disrespect stop them from living their life the way we knew we deserved and believed that we could. And that we could become even better according to ourselves and that we would give ourselves better, every day. I can now say to someone going through what I went through… “Hey, I get it. I was cheated on too. I know exactly what you’re feeling because I felt it too and neither you nor me deserved that, no one does. All they had to do was communicate. And I know it hurts, but you are not ‘less than’. You are amazing. You are beautiful. You are powerful and are you really going to let someone else make your life worse or devalue you? You are not alone. You got this.” *Smile* And every time I get to say that to someone, I get to say it to myself too. I heard it from so many of my friends that I reached out to and who shared the exact same sentiments with me. And just like how I aim to be a stellar example of a human, I now get to be a stellar example of someone who was cheated on and tell others, “You see me? You see how A.MA.ZING. I am? Even… I was cheated on. Yep. Even me. And guess what? You are JUST. AS. A.MA.ZING. So, it is not our faults or our loss and there is nothing wrong or less about us.”

Chatting with a new friend at work that Friday about how I realized, I was grateful that I was cheated on, and that the event had led to my life becoming better, I also realized I was thankful to my former partner for cheating on me. “Should I tell him that?” I asked my friend on minute 18 of our 15-minute break. She said with conviction, honesty, and genuine love, “if you feel it”. It was a few hours before I was scheduled to get my stuff back from the ex, barely 2 days after they broke up with me. And I did indeed feel it. I genuinely had realized that the experience, and how I processed it, had resulted in me and my life being better than it was with them, or before them. I told my former partner, in person, that there was something I wanted to thank them for and that I wasn’t saying my next line to be malicious or spiteful, but that I genuinely felt grateful that it all happened, and they had an undeniable part in making it so. So, I told my former partner, with strength in my voice and a smile on my face; “Genuinely, Thank you for cheating on me. My life is now better”. 

I wrote this 4500+ word essay at 1:00 A.M today, not even a week after they told me that they cheated on me, less than 5 days after they broke up with me, and am just about to post it now for the entire internet to have and for anyone who finds it to read. And there is so much more I have gained and am thankful for, not just from the cheating or the break up, but also the relationship, that I am sure to discover and share in time. I hope the best for everyone because I believe in basic human decency, even if some may not, but I also believe, that on a fundamental level; The universe craves balance, and how ultimately, we all get what we deserve in life. And at the heart of that, we have to decide what we deserve. We have to believe that we deserve better for ourselves to be the best version of ourselves we know we can be. The best version of ourselves we know we deserve, and only we can give ourselves. I hope y’all find what you’re looking for. And… just communicate with your partners about what your expectations are in your relationships, and respect other people’s relationships. Respect yourself. Cheating never has to happen. But at least for me, I am so grateful that it happened to me. I am genuinely grateful that I got cheated on. *Smile* 

T.C. y’all. ~Enjoy

Something happened and I’m not sure how I am feeling about it, but I am certain that I am having feelings about what happened, so I am going to write about it and just get it out.

At a California State Park, a gentleman waited in the doorway of a public women’s restroom for me, and as I was walking out, asked to speak with me and informed me that me being in the women’s restroom was making his sister and “a lot of other women and kids uncomfortable”. He kept saying “your prerogative is your prerogative” and suggested that instead of the women’s restroom, I “use the Men’s”, “a private bathroom”, or (and I quote) “whip it out in a bush”. And as I was listening to this, it was very much just him voicing his opinion and me responding with the affirming “I hear ya” and “Got it” and after he shared his words, I told him “Thank you for letting me know” and we went our separate ways.

So that’s what happened.

And for anyone wondering, Yes, I am okay. The main reasons are because: I know who I am, and I refuse to let anyone else devalue myself in my eyes.

What immediately followed this interaction was my friend who was standing a few yards away witnessing this conversation walked up, I told her that because the drinking fountains didn’t work at the restrooms we were at, we should head to different ones, and I started walking towards said drinking fountains and then she asked “are you okay?”. I responded with probably a shrug and a “yes”, but I was very much still both processing the event while also trying to not let it stop me from getting water, enjoying my day, and living my life. My friend seemed more impacted by the event than I did and that is completely okay, and we talked about it for maybe 5 or 10 minutes after the initial event, but I most likely gave the implication that we move on from the subject and we did. We continued our fun beach day, she read an amazing book, and I took naps and photos and took in the scenery around me. We talked about it a bit later and I came to the conclusion that if the price I had to pay for the incredible day I had, was that interaction, it was well worth it. The day truly was so fun, and I enjoyed it! Plus my swimsuit was SUPER CUTE and I looked SO GOOD! So honestly no regrets. c;

But I figured there could absolutely be more that I wasn’t coming into contact within the moment, so here we are the morning after and me wondering… “how do I feel about what happened?”. And I feel; sad. Sad that (allegedly) the sister of the gentleman who approached me and the “lot of other women and kids” felt uncomfortable that I was in the same restroom as they were.

I do not feel “sorry” nor is this an apology, but I do find it unfortunate that (allegedly) women and children felt uncomfortable because someone they did not know, who looked the way that I did, upset them enough to not only feel their discomfort, but express it to someone else beside me.

I am not angry with the gentleman who approached me. I am not angry with the (alleged) sister and “lot of other women and kids”. I know what it feels like to be angry. (And if you know you know, but if not, I have anger management issues.) And so “Anger” is definitely not what I’m feeling after all of this. And I feel like there are at least 2 main reasons for me not feeling angry.

1.      Anger is not a solution to this problem, nor an effective response to address this issue. Because it is very much a problem and I would like to find the best solution, not just for me, but for everyone. The other parties involved in this saga had a problem and I would very much like to address that problem. (And just to be clear, the problem is their discomfort, I am not the problem.) Not with them personally per say, but in society. There are effective responses and fair solutions to most, if not all problems where everyone feels safe and is treated with respect and those solutions and effective methods are what I personally am willing to work towards. And anger has no place in that.

2.      I can sympathize with the other parties involved. I can sympathize with the gentleman wanting to address, ease, and avoid the discomfort that (allegedly) his sister and the “lot of other women and kids” felt. Feeling uncomfortable is not a great feeling and talking about your experience with someone else and perhaps taking action to address that discomfort for yourself and others who you may also feel similar, can be a cathartic, healing, and worthwhile experience. So I can sympathize with why the gentleman did what he did.

I want to make this very clear; I do not condone what he did and how he did it. Because taking my sense of self out of this encounter, this is my understanding of what happened.

A cis man waited in the doorway of a public women’s restroom , to address a transgender woman in a swimsuit, directed her outside and expressed that her presence in the restroom she felt most comfortable to use caused “a lot of other women and kids” to feel uncomfortable. The cis man misgendered the woman, addressed her as male, and even specifically mentioned her anatomy, while giving suggestions he felt were suitable for her to use the restroom.

What this man did was not okay.

If I saw this happening to someone else, I would intervein because I believe this is not okay. This happened to me and even though I am okay, I understand that what happened to me is not okay. It is a bit difficult for me to “be okay” and understand that what happened to me is not okay, but that’s probably exactly why I am writing about this.

As we were walking away from the encounter, my friend stopped and said to me “I’m angrier about this than you are”. And she was right. I seemed almost way too nonchalant about the situation, and that opinion of myself wasn’t coming from the comparison of my friends reaction to mine, but simply from my own perception of myself. I do remember briskly wondering, “why do I seem so okay about what happened?” but in that moment, answering that “why am I okay” question maybe wasn’t the thing to process in that moment. I did genuinely, in that moment, feel okay and I still do feel okay. Answering the question of “why” I felt okay could potentially, threaten or at the very least, test and destabilize the solid foundation of me being okay in that moment. And I believe that’s what this piece of writing is. Me asking myself,” why am I okay?” while also addressing the “not okay” feelings I was feeling.  

 And after writing everything I have, I believe I get it now.

“Why am I okay?” because I know who I am, and I refuse to let anyone else devalue myself in my eyes. And… I can sympathize with others feelings of discomfort while still addressing my own feelings of both being okay with myself as well as understand that the situation was not okay.

I would probably feel anger reading this. If I was reading my friend’s blog and read that someone treated them not okay, I am CERTAIN I would feel anger reading the above piece. And that’s okay. If you the reader are feeling angry, that’s okay. That sounds like a natural response. But I am okay, and I genuinely don’t feel angry. I support people feeling their feelings and if that’s sadness for me, or anger for you, or something completely different, good! Let’s feel those feelings. But I know anger will not solve this problem. But caring will. Communication. Grace. And understanding.

And another important truth to remember is that it is absolutely okay for me and anyone else not to be okay after something happens that is not-okay. It is okay for me to not be okay after this. A small part of me understood that someone was not viewing me as a person with rights and values and, as evident of this entire essay, at the very least, I recognized I was perceived by another human as a less valuable human and chose to maybe ignore it in the moment, but at the very least ask if I am okay after recognizing someone had attempted to de-value me. Their attempt was unsuccessful, but I still would have been okay if it had been successful and I did feel devalues in my own eyes because the truth is that I am not less valuable of a person whether I feel it or not. It would have been okay if I wasn’t okay. And if that’s true, that it is also okay that I am okay.

The creation of this writing piece and the sharing of this experience and my thoughts on it is my first step of combating bigotry, ignorance, and disrespect. My life is valuable because of how I choose to experience life and my willingness to analyze and share it. And now I have words to write down to myself. Advice for me to give to a future me and I also feel like there is value in one’s words that they give to themselves, so… here ya go y’all. This is what I have to say to me.  

Feel your feelings, live your life, and believe in basic human respect. And when not-okay things happen to yourself and those around you, it is okay to not be okay as well as to be okay. But do something to address things that are not-okay. Whether you stay close to someone who you may recognize to be in potential danger, whether you talk or not talk about something that happened, or whether you write about it and share your experience and thoughts on your experience. Do something to address what is not-okay.

That’s all for now. Take care y’all. ~Enjoy