Condoms and Abortion

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This may not be a new thought, but it is new to me.  While pondering how people who are passionately against other people getting abortions and exert a great deal of energy in trying to bring their views to be the law of the land, I had  revelation.  It was not mystical, but hugely practical and seemed  to me to be something I should share with the world at large.  I am poking fun at myself here;  I have, perhaps, a handful of regular readers of my blog and another handful on Facebook!

Anyway, I realized that abortion is the result of both a woman and a man making poor birth control choices.  People who are vehemently against abortion focus entirely on women.  They feel women should carry their embryos to term despite there often being no man in the picture to help provide financially or as a father.  Underneath this belief may be another unfair belief or attitude.  It is blaming the woman’s undesired pregnancy entirely upon the woman.  A “you got yourself into this predicament, now you have to pay the price” manner of thinking.

But, as my revelation continued to reveal itself to me, I began to realize that it takes both a woman and a man to bring about the continuation of the human race!  And… wait for it…. men could be proactive in helping to prevent abortions by WEARING CONDOMS!  Stop these pregnancies at the source!  I envision advertising campaigns of a huge scale produced by hitherto anti-abortionists!  Billboards, television commercials,  even church signs (with their usual thought-provoking sentiments) would fill our country with this profoundly and utterly new wave of thinking!  Anti-Abortionists would team up with Planned Parenthood to get the word out and  supply the nation with condoms!  Condom manufacturers would tout all the benefits of condoms.  “They prevent pregnancy a lot of the time!”  “They protect users against sexual diseases!”  “They come in different colors!”

In time, fashion designers would get in on the craze and manufacture high-end, expensive condoms.  Magazines, splashed with the faces of the rich and famous, would have in-depth stories of what brand of condom Kim Kardashian likes her man to wear.  Condoms would become cool.  They would become fun.  They would become status symbols!  I think that some of the most popular ones would have emojis on them.

Additionally, they would be available in so many sizes and textures and materials that men would stop saying that they inhibit sexual pleasure.  Instead,  they would be touting how they improve performance and how easy they are to carry in one’s pocket.  How they make you sexier to ladies and can be printed with your name and number and be given out like business cards at  bars.

So, are you with me?  Do you want to see this dream of unity across our nation realized?  There would be so much money to be made from it that success would be easy.   Condom manufacturers need only to consult PR firms now.  I am going to start my own little grassroots movement.  I’ll have some bumper stickers printed that say “America!  A condom in every pot!”.  Patriotism is a big seller.  Then, I will tape  a line of condoms on my bumper to wave proudly.  Won’t you join me?

 

 

 

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My Therapist and My Heart

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Image result for bing and artworks of a father embracing a daughter

I only post my own words once in a while.  While I post a lot of posts that I admire.  I also comment on many posts, and many times think “Oh, maybe I should have created a new post from that”  after I find that my comment has almost become an essay!  LOL!  I had a sudden realization yesterday that I thought maybe worth sharing.

A couple of months ago, I experienced a rupture in the relationship with my therapist of twenty years.  He had said something that bothered me and from there began ricochets like a pinball machine within me.  After numerous sessions (and the last one where I cried), I finally could feel that he was trustworthy again and felt the love and connection to him.

The pain that I experienced these many weeks was excruciating and nearly unbearable.  My father severely sexually abused me as  a child and teenager.  When this finally came to consciousness in the form of flashbacks in my thirties, it felt like a death.  The father I had loved and adored (when he wasn’t abusing me, we shared a sense of humor and he gave me attention and we shared  playing badmiton and chocolate soda shakes together.)  I lost this place in my heart that provided a feeling of being loved.  A few years ago,  I lost my faith in a loving God, who I thought of as my real father, when after a lifetime of abuse my second husband got a rare disease where he lost the ability to stand and walk and eventually to even sit up unaided. He also became deaf.  This was awful for him and also awful for me. Every month his condition became worse no matter what treatments the doctors gave him since nothing was known really on how to since it was so rare that research was minimal.  After a lifetime of abuse and hardship, the loving god that I had believed in and prayed to since I was a child, seemed to be a hoax.  Though I was very angry , at the same time, for him allowing another hardship of such proportions into my life.  I do not want to challenge anyone’s faith with my confession.  I wish you to keep it since it had given me such comfort, guidance and hope.

So, in a sense, I had lost two fathers.  Over the twenty years, that I had been receiving therapy from my male therapist, he had become among many things, a father-figure to me.  As I came out of the fog of confusion about the safety and trustworthiness that I had hitherto  found in him and could start to feel as I had about him before the misunderstanding, I began to see something in my heart that I had never seen clearly before.  (Please excuse me using the term heart.  I know it is my brain; but, I see emotions as stemming from the term heart.)  The reason that the rift had  been so painful became clear to me.  In my heart was this place where he resided.  All the support and a thousand kindnesses had created a place there where I felt close to him.  Just as a loving parent provides a space like this that supports us as we journey through life, he had created in me this same type of place.  I often leaned into this place for comfort and a feeling of love and safety.  Sometimes, I lay in a fetal position to rest from the difficulties of life and my mental conditions of PTSD, depression and anxiety.  I would get relief there and get up ready to once again struggle to try to live a better way.  That is why the rupture in this relationship was so painful.  I couldn’t find this oh-so necessary place which had nourished me all these years.  And, of course, he, temporarily had ceased creating in me the feeling of he and his office being a safe and nourishing space.  I had experienced the despair and desperate longing of a child suddenly orphaned.  There was nowhere to go to for my need for the good father.

Oh, when I found it again on Monday, I immediately crawled inside this place in my heart and felt all the comfort it supplied; but, I cried also for the time when I couldn’t find it and had despaired.  A bittersweet homecoming.

Art by Edvard Munch

 

Appearances — Square Peg, Round Hole

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Love her attitude and completely relate to it! LOL!

I grew up with the belief that appearances where everything. What was happening on the inside of our home wasn’t reflected to the outside world. I think it was pretty much the norm. Nobody aired their dirty laundry. We simply kept up a facade. Now, I am not saying that my home growing up was […]

via Appearances — Square Peg, Round Hole

Loneliness — Emerging From The Dark Night

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For the first time, I understand why I need and crave so much solitude and what it provides for me.  I reblog this poem in the hope that others will see themselves and understand and value and honor their need too.  A great poem.

 

Loneliness was the comfortable blue shirt that you wore Wrapping it tightly around you Helping you to feel safe from harm Lonelieness was the deep blue sea you dived into After all the hurt made your body ache For the soft drowning of water Loneliness was the storm that blew up When they left you […]

via Loneliness — Emerging From The Dark Night

Happy Senior Citizens Day — bluebird of bitterness

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I am a BIG fan of this blog!  I especially love the first photo below.  Since I am turning 60 next year, I have been wondering what growing old will have in store for me.  This photo made me laugh as I recognized it as something that I would do!  So I see good times in my future. 🙂

 

via Happy Senior Citizens Day — bluebird of bitterness

The Rising Of an Authoritarian State: Remembering “Why Don’t We Learn from History.” — Padre Steve’s World: Official Home of the Anti-Chaps

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B. H. Liddell-Hart Friends of Padre Steve’s World, A number of years ago I read the short but poignant little but by the British military historian B.H. Liddell-Hart entitled Why Don’t We […]

via The Rising Of an Authoritarian State: Remembering “Why Don’t We Learn from History.” — Padre Steve’s World: Official Home of the Anti-Chaps