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 Valentine's Day, according to The Oatmeal. Less complaining, more sexy rumpus is a good life motto.

Obviously, this is an extremely liberal source of info so perhaps it has bit of lean to it, but this proposed GA law that could criminalize miscarriages? I don't even have words for how outraged this makes me.

A billboard that's both anti-choice AND racist? Oh boy.

The issue with the SI Swimsuit Issue. Hell yeah.

Lady Porn Day! Lots of good stuff here.

I really love BeautySchooled's guest post on 2000 Dollar Wedding about choosing to not hop on the scale pre-wedding. Brava!

Smith + Moho + Lolcats =amazing. Nooo idea where I found this.

Have a great weekend!

Much love,
The Sheriff

titties down, ass up*:sex positions and body image

*Yes, I am referencing that terrible song by Lil Rob (this is the official video, so it doesn't quite say "titties down, ass up" but you get the gist), thanks for noticing. Also can we talk about how ridiculous this video is? And his facial hair? Damn, son.

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Time to drop some knowledge on you: sex can be a really intimate and vulnerable experience (blowing your mind right now, aren't I?). You're naked, they're up in your business, bodily fluids are everywhere...the potential for it to be embarrassing or uncomfortable is pretty damn high. Add into that the fact that many women have complicated, adversarial, and flat-out bad relationships with certain parts of their body that are prominently displayed during boning, and you've got a sometimes sad situation, rife with more anxiety than pleasure and even avoiding specific positions so as to not present so strikingly one's supposed beer gut or thunder thighs or -insert your preferred negative bodily term here- (and maybe dudes are afflicted by this too, though I am less knowledgeable about their body issues).

Personally? Not a fan of the pile driver position (accomplished like this, if you're curious), which the ex Beefcake loved, for two reasons. Number one: it didn't do much for me, and kinda hurt my neck. Number two: it put all of my stomach fat right up in mah face. And of course, in my mind, that's the worst part of my body and uglier than anything and it must've disgusted him, and not exactly a turn-on to stare at. Bad body image ruined a lot of great orgasms in the past.

While I have a few friends who avoid any rear-entry positions because of back problems (and I think it speaks to the level of grandma in my lifestyle that more than one of my 21 year old friends suffers back issues), I also know quite a few who avoid it because they're insecure about the size of their ass/cellulite (imagined or real)/the fear of not knowing exactly how they appear from that angle. Lotsa women (and again, men too) spend a lot of time, energy, and money on their appearance thanks to oppression beauty standards galore, and often we want to control the outcome of all that. Which can, understandably, lead to some insecurity when you're not sure how to hell you look, bent and spread.

I can't say for sure what you specifically look like (well, not most of you readers anyway!), but I'm guessing your partner is thinking: Wow. This person is naked! With ME! This is awesome! They're so hot/cute/funny/curvy/skinny/beautiful. I can't say anyone I've ever had sex with was bodily perfection incarnate, but I rarely noticed their flaws and if I did, it was usually fleeting before I got right back into the point of sex: the pleasure and connection between two people. So while I recommend doing whatever makes you comfortable and gets you off, it's also worth it to work on staying in the pleasure of the moment instead of wrapped up in the internal negative dialogue in your head, no matter what position you're in.

What do you think? Any positions you avoid because of perceived bodily flaws? Have you ever been with a man self-conscious about certain parts so much as to impact his choices of position (haven't encountered it myself, but I'm curious)?

Much love,
The Sheriff

It's Rally Day!

Rally Day is one of Smith's many traditions, and for people who aren't seniors, it just means that you get off class.

old timey smithies on Rally Day

For seniors, we get to wear our graduation robes for the first time (!!!) along with silly hats, we listen to speeches/they give out awards, and most importantly, we find out our commencement speaker! I'm hoping for Tina Fey or Justice Sotomayor, and will definitely update ya'll when I know!

Happy Rally Day, 2011!


UPDATE: Our commencement speaker is Sylvia Earle, which while not Tina Fey, is still pretty damn cool.

Much love,
The Sheriff

college eating and eating disorders: even Smithies are not immune

I've bitched about this before in my Letter to the Editor, but I'll say it again because it definitely deserves the emphasis (especially during NEDAW): eating disorders are absolutely rampant at Smith, and if others' stories and rumors and anecdotes are to be believed, they're mad prevalent on other campuses too. Smith, despite its penchant for creating the giants of American feminism (Betty Friedan, Gloria Steinem, the Sheriff...KIDDING), is still a veritable recipe for creating eating disorders: young females + high achievers + atmosphere that encourages you to push yourself constantly=not shocking when you see friends barely touching their salad at dinner or anonymous gagging sounds in the stall next to you or fiends at the gym (please note that I am very much aware that a plethora of people who are neither spritely youths nor female bodied also experience ED/disordered eating, but the demographic of young females is the most at risk group). And although many of us, the Sheriff most definitely included, like to pretend that we're totally above succumbing to sexist beauty standards and the desire to be thin, secretly we get frustrated with and hate on our bodies as much as any "typical" group of female college students (how utterly sad that this is considered a typical activity. Goddamn).

Smith is pretty unique from other colleges (and by unique, I mean that it holds tenaciously to its old traditions) in that everyone who lives on campus is on a full meal plan, and virtually everyone lives on campus. The full meal plan is a holdover from the days when each house (yep, all 35 of them) had its own dining hall, and we all ate baked Alaska on white table clothes with linen napkins by candlelight (or so I'm told [and like to imagine] by old alumnae). Obviously, this was heinously expensive so they cut that shit out, but there are still 11 houses with dining across a campus with a population of about 2600, so we are pretty spoiled in that we have some choice about what to eat. Checking the daily menus is pretty much the campus wide pastime, but frankly? While I recognize the logistical difficulties of feeding that many hungry college students and pity the dining services staff, much of the food is over cooked, repetitive, unhealthy, or just bleh (although sometimes they do it majorly right, like when the had Sweet Potato Week. YES!)

And any or all of those reasons make it incredibly easy to make excuses about not eating dinner, or not eating much, or binging. The food looked gross. I grabbed those cookies for my roommate. I ate at another dining hall. I just had to pee after I ate so much. Everything they made was fried, so I just ate salad. Sounds pretty innocuous, right?

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Except that it's often not. Trust me, as someone who has used every excuse and purged in every toilet at Smith (sliiiiight exaggeration), sometimes it's worth it to just say something when you're concerned about a friend. After I came clean to my friends about my ED's resurgence last year, many of them admitted that they'd noticed the weight loss/constant excuses for not being at meals, but that they hesitated to bring it up for fear of being offensive. Might your friend be mad at you? Might they deny it vehemently? Might they hate your guts for it? All possible. But it's also possible that they secretly want someone to notice, to help them recognize that they need assistance/a therapist/another way to deal with emotions. Don't judge, don't diagnose them, focus on the behaviors that concern you, and hopefully they'll be able to hear that it's coming from a place of love.

Much love,
The Sheriff

PS--if you live in or around the Five College area, you should absolutely come to the Scale Smashing event this Saturday! I don't even own a scale to smash and I'm so excited!

the sheriff is a naughty recovered anorexic...

..because she forgot that it's National Eating Disorder Awareness Week! Whoops.

The theme (for both last year and this year) is "It's Time to Talk About It." I've brought that theme up in recent entries, so I hope that in your own lives, you open up some form of discussion about eating disorders/disordered eating in your own history, your family, friends, society, whatever strikes you. NEDAW is asking you to think of the one thing that you can do to help prevent, help, or heal someone with an eating disorder, which I think is fantastic. You can't cure someone, no matter how hard you try. You can't even cure yourself instantly. But you can absolutely do just one thing to help.

If you feel that you might need treatment or want to seek out information for yourself, that's amazing that you can recognize that you're struggling and the internet is full of amazing resources! I've listed some below, but there are PLENTY more out there. You should feel proud of yourself for taking the first step towards a healthy and full life!

NEDAW website.

ED Bites.

Something Fishy.


Renfrew Center.

Weightless.

Much love (and support!),
The Sheriff

friday fun and frivolity

good reminder!

Interesting and important: campuses define consent differently (why?).


All my dreams come true.

QuestionableContent is a webcomic drawn by a local dude and it's set in Northampton so it obviously references Smith a lot. But this one also mocks UMass bros just a bit and made my day.

Gay man hanky code: fascinating.


The greatest love of all: love for self! I love everything Sally writes about body image/self love.


Reporter sexually  assaulted in Egypt in the midst of all the celebrations in the streets. I tried to find if this has also been happening to Egyptian women, but couldn't find much. If you've got info, please share it below!


Crappy things people do before breaking up with you. Truth.

Much love,
The Sheriff

size(ism?) and when to speak the fuck up

I read this piece at Eat the Damn Cake (which, if you're too lazy to click on over, is about seeing that clearly eating disordered/otherwise struggling emaciated woman constantly doin' her cardio and not knowing how to approach her), and it immediately rang true for me. I've written about this very phenomenon before and how even as a recovered anorexic, I still struggle with finding the right words to express concern and support without being accusatory (especially to strangers!).

But someone in the comments raised a good point: would you consider saying anything to an overweight person eating, say, a Twinkie?

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Which is a lot harder to answer, and more important to answer, than I first thought. I imagine most people would react to that the way I did: "What?! No! Let them eat what they want!" But what if it's part of an eating disorder? Or just incredibly damn unhealthy? And not unhealthy in the way that Fitness and Shape and all those magazines that I hate to love to read portray it (i.e., health=being slender. Always!), but truly unhealthy, as in, leading to health issues. Lemme give you a personal example.

One of my older sisters was rushed to the hospital this weekend for two emergency surgeries (appendectomy and umbilical hernia repair! At the same time! Whew!), both of which are pretty standard procedures. But they were both complicated by her weight. She is obese, perhaps even morbidly so, and has a deeply unhealthy lifestyle: she works far too many hours as a chef, she eats only meat and carbs (I can promise you that during my 21 years of life, I have not once seen her eat anything green, whilst I spent my childhood gnawing on whole cucumbers. But I digress), she does not exercise, and she lives in New Jersey (this is not actually a health risk, except that no one there can drive). While I agree that one can absolutely be both "fat" (whatever we've decided that means) and fit, she simply does not fall into that category.

But how can someone possibly address this sort of issue with a loved one without simply being insulting? Is it not my place? I've always berated my dad and brother for smoking; is this situation any different? Or does the fact that a female's body and size are so personal and so assaulted daily with messages about how we should look and act make this somehow more sensitive (for duh, Sheriff)? So how to be both sensitive to that and supportive of adopting a healthier lifestyle? Can you even influence someone to do that? Should you ever address things of this nature with anyone, even an emaciated lady at the gym?

Should I even say anything? Have you ever struggled with addressing this with a loved one?

Much love,
The Sheriff

v-day sexual expectations

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Holidays are always full of ludicrous expectations: this Christmas, no one will get drunk and insult each other while we pretend to enjoy the tasteless mashed potatoes made by Auntie. And this New Year's, the party will be amazing and I'll kiss someone at midnight and no one will insist on driving home drunk.

And this Valentine's Day will be magical and full of roses and candy and love and amazing mind blowing sex.

Because expectations and pressure like that has never disappointed anyone.

I don't really buy hugely into the hype of hatin' on Valentine's Day (yes, it's over-commercialized, and yes, you should show your love every day of the year), and I do think it's cute and enjoyable if you relax and don't make it into too much. If you aren't expecting it to blow your mind, whatever does happen will be much more pleasant.

This absolutely includes V-Day sexy time.

Expecting sex to be more special or mind-blowing just because it's a holiday is a) illogical, and b) only likely to give you performance anxiety and make it less enjoyable than it could've been. While the Sheriff herself did not get to see Meatball on the day itself, she may have made an appearance over the weekend for him in some cheesy panties that may have looked identical to this:

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And it was silly and fun and hopefully he liked it, but either way, I got to fuck my partner for the first time in weeks so the accoutrement of the evening couldn't have mattered less. Candles or rose petals wouldn't have made either of us cum any quicker or love the other more. Sex is not about putting on a performance. It's more about the connection you have with your partner and your ability to stay in the moment that determines how you'll feel  and how much pleasure you get out of it (this counts for solo sex too: masturbation can be just as frustrating, even though you clearly know how you like to be touched, if you're disconnected from yourself and your mind is wandering). Enjoy the sex you're having, and try to check your expectations at the door.

But what do you think? Are high expectations good for raising the bar and encouraging fun new sex, or do they just ruin the perfectly good stuff that happens most of the time?


Much love,
The Sheriff

love YO'SELF this valentine's day

 This is an excerpt from a wicked old post I wrote back last May about self-love. And I think it's incredibly appropriate topic for Valentine's day. In the midst of all the candy and cards and flowers and bondage, remember to focus on how amazing you are. Seriously. 


Self love.

That means being gentle with yourself above all else. Did you screw up an exam or say something awkward while trying to flirt? It's okay, everyone does! It doesn't make you less attractive, smart, funny, good of a person for one mistake. Accept that you did your best, AND you can do better.

Tell yourself you're awesome, hot, beautiful, curvy, skinny, gorgeous, smart, whatever you need to hear. External validation feels incredible, but you are the only consistent source of happiness in your own life. So be there for yourself, and cheesy as it is, look yourself in the mirror and tell yourself you're beautiful everyday. IT WORKS.

Do something active most days of the week, not because it will make you lose weight or tone you up or flatten your abs or any of that bullshit. But because it will help you live longer and feel happier and, in moderation, is very positive for self esteem. And yes, dance parties count.

You might have to fake it till you make it (NOT your orgasms please!). As an experiment, I've tried walking around this semester with "swagger," if you will. Head up, good posture, a little natural swing in the hips, and a big smile when I make eye contact with people, even when I felt obese and wanted to hide. And ya know what? Compliments began POURING my way. I got asked out at least twice a week by stangers. Most importantly, I feel hotter now. And nothing, literally nothing, had otherwise changed in my appearance (I actually STOPPED going to the gym during this period). And now, I've got more confidence in my bedroom abilities than before and can focus on enjoying myself. So tell the negative voice inside your head to go fuck itself (probs pretty often) and turn your swag on, even if it's just pretend.

Do you find yourself thinking about how fat you must look in certain sexual positions or worrying that your partner notices your bacne/cellulite/stretch marks/birth mark (mine, btw, is white markings framing my vag. No lie. Sign from God that I was to have amazing sex?)? Here's the secret: they'll be so thrilled they're having sex with you, they won't notice. And if they do notice, it won't matter, because they'll be focusing on your hot tits or soft skin or beautiful eyes. To get out of your head and into the sensual gorgeous feelings, try doing some mindfulness in your daily life or in bed. Shift your focus to the feel of their hands on your body or the sound of their breath (this has the added bonus of making you more in tune with what's happening and thus more aware of your likes/dislikes AND more turned on. Mindfulness rocks!). Focusing on the moment gets you out of your own anxieties and more connected to the experience you're having.

Check out the body image myths you tell yourself. Are you a perfectionist? Do you think your looks outweigh all the other facets of your personality? For me, I constantly compared myself to other women to see how I sized up. It honestly got pretty vicious; I'd visit my ex, Beefcake, at his school, which is mostly full of bratty Philadelphia Main Line/New Jersey daddy's girls who get spray tans and wear Uggs with sweatpants. But rather than being nice or trying to get to know them, out of my own anxiety, I'd say the nastiest things about them to Beefcake as soon as we walked into any party, the cafeteria, whatever. Is it really because I hate Uggs and orange skin that much? Both are pretty atrocious, but no. It's because I was insecure. And until I tackled that insecurity, I let these women reduce me down to nothing but a catty judgmental bitch. But now? They wouldn't bother me one bit. I'm hot in my own way, and they can be their own Jersey version of hot, and it doesn't matter because it's not a competition. As Baz Luhrmann said, "Don’t waste your time on jealousy; sometimes you’re ahead, sometimes you’re behind,
the race is long, and in the end, it’s only with yourself."

For more info on loving yourself, check out these awesome links!
How to practice supreme mega self-love daily.
Empty bellies do not beget genius.
Tenets of self-care. 

Much love,
The Sheriff

Friday Links!

Short list this week! 

This is equal parts perfect and adorable: a letter to my teenage self.

teehee.

Facebook use increases risk of eating disorders? 

Interesting. More talk of Facebook, but in relation to the male gaze/posting sexy pictures/porn etc.

Hilarious vintage advice: Are you ready for marriage, ladies? Oddly, some of it is sound (what do you argue over? Have you really discussed your finances?), but some of it is just sexist and hilariously dated (Can you prepare all of his favorite dishes?).

ED Bites: An all-around fantastic pro-recovery blog.

Don't try to be perfect; just be an excellent example of being human.- Tony Robbins


Much love,
The Sheriff

how do you measure a year?

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First of all: Thank you, blog readers, for being silently supportive without knowing it. I've used this blog sometimes as a platform to talk about my ED and recovery efforts and body image struggles, and maybe sometimes it's boring to you, but it's been enormously helpful to publicly out myself and put it all out there.

I couldn't resist the Rent inspired title for today's post, because today is a momentous day. It marks a full year for me without any eating disorder behaviors at all, something I haven't done since I was 12 when my disorder really took off. And I'm pretty fuckin' proud.

I went into treatment at age 14 for the first time, and it was mostly just going through the motions. I was sorta sick of my ED, but really? I secretly loved it, the comfort it gave me, the way it calmed me down to obsess over calories and to run my hands over my jutting hip bones while I laid in bed at night. That's why it never really went away: I never really wanted it to.

It came back with a raging vengeance at age 20, and I was tired of it. Tired of being exhausted, of being isolated, of having no room in my life for fun or joy or confidence or friends. Just room for gripping, terrifying intense obsession. I chose to put myself into treatment, like an accountable adult, and that made all the difference. I made and kept every appointment, and although there were days when I hated it, when I wanted to punch my nutritionist for making me choke down so many snacks, I came to relish the feeling of being good to myself. Of being honest for once. Of forgiving myself. Of finally mourning my eating disorder, and letting it go as an active part of my identity. I used to be anorexic and bulimic, just like I used to have spiked hair and wear UFO pants and participate in mosh pits. But, finally, not anymore.

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There are times when I miss the feeling that my eating disorder filled a void or the false comfort that it gave, and there are still times that I stand in dressing rooms and cry when the size 2 pants won't fit because I have hips now and when I envy friends for their seemingly flawless bodies, and then I hate myself for being caught up in the superficial so intensely still. Not every day is perfect. But most of them rock: I see the amazing things my body can do when I nourish it and love it properly (yoga! bellydance! riding on top for long periods during awesome sex!), and the vibrant flush in my cheeks, and the healthy happy loving relationship I have with my boyfriend, and the support of my glorious friends, and all the space in my life for joy when there's not a draining mental illness crowding out the good stuff. Recovery might be a lifelong battle, but it doesn't feel like a fight anymore: it just feels like life. And that's the best gift I could ever give myself.

Much love,
The Sheriff

Guest Post--Feminism and Science: A strained relationship?

Sheriff here! Below is a guest post by the lovely Dr. Kinky, who was a participant I bonded particularly well with in the summer program I worked for last year. She's been accepted into Smith for next year (CONGRATULATIONS!), and wanted to share some thoughts about sexism, the sciences, and so much more. Without further adieu, here she is! 

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I am 17 years old, a senior in high school and a future Smithie/Pioneer. I plan to major in biology and math and do pre-med. The passion I have for biology sciences is something that is close to my heart. I have a special relationship with it as it what drives me to keep going. I want to achieve a lot in my life, not only for myself, but to show the world that women are capable of being in a field that is so blatantly discouraged for them to participate in. Since my summer before junior year of high school I have been participating in science/biology research programs. I did the Smith Science program for high school students where I met the wonderful Sheriff and was exposed to a whole other world. All the women there had a passion for whatever they were doing and pursued their interests without ever holding back.



After the program and getting to work with a Smith professor after that, I registered out of the Advanced Chemistry I was placed in and opted to do an independent study in biology. The Chemistry was going to prepare me better for the harsh rigor of the pre-med curriculum but biology is what makes me happy. I enjoyed sitting in my junior year advanced biology class every day. I asked my advanced biology teacher to be my independent study teacher/mentor as it was his passion for the subject that inspired me so much. We are working with a Smith professor who has been an immense help to me. On top of my independent study which requires me to be in lab every two Saturdays (which I actually love), I have embarked on the adventure of being a global scholar, which requires me to write a thesis type paper with a mentor (40 pages wahoo!). My mentor is a professor from IUPUI and again has been an amazing resource and wonderful person to me. All the people involved in my project are males in their 50s-60s. They are so caring, full of knowledge and they treat me like a peer. No more, no less. The respect my thoughts and allow me to problem solve for myself. I have never felt like I have been treated in an odd or unsatisfying way by these men. This is such a relief in the sciences compared to what women had to go through even just 20 years ago.

As I am doing my lab research, meeting lots of people and networking  about the things I am doing, I can't help but notice how under-represented women are in the science field. It is crazy. Whenever I have to go to lab, I find myself taking the bright pink nail polish off of my fingers, cutting my nails, putting my hair back in a ponytail and clipping my bangs away, scared to put on eyeliner because I don't want to look like a fool. I also only wear simple t-shirts and jeans. I take off all of my jewelry except for the ring that has been on my finger since I was 13. Is this my lack of confidence to express myself in the field I love so dearly or is it trying to be professional? Is there a message that is ingrained in the female mind that even having a slightly feminine touch to the sciences will affect my reputation? Although I have been told that I am "bold, colorful, and intelligent" by the men in this profession, why can't I express this in the way I look or the way that I dress? Why does professionalism equate to looking less feminine? I was reading in Cosmo magazine that women should try to go for neutral color nail polishes for a job interview because brighter colors give off the impression of being unprofessional. But how does the color of my nails affect my mind and the type of work I am able to produce?

However, the most appalling thing I have heard is when I was in an operating room shadowing a cardiac surgeon and I was standing where the anesthesiologist stands, at the head of the table. The surgeon told me I could ask him whatever questions I wanted to. My first question was why are women under represented in the cardiothoracic surgery field. He proceeded to tell me that there are about 10,000 cardiothoracic surgeons out of which about 100 are women. That is 1%. He said this was because it was a demanding field with long hours and women had to choose between having a family and having a successful career. Excuse my language, but WHAT THE FUCK. Yes, women have the wonderful capacity to have children something that males simply do not possess but it is so sad that a choice needs to be made. That honestly made my heart ache (no pun intended). I couldn’t wrap my head around having to choose between a career and a family, and I still can’t.

I am young and still trying to figure out who I am and although I have a general sense of who I am and the type of person I want to be, there is a lot of self learning still has to occur. These are the prominent issues I see in my society and these are the things I am trying to figure out. Any feedback would be awesome.
--Dr. Kinky

why the specifics of body image ideals are almost irrelevant: forcefeeding in Mauritania

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Lots of body positive sources love to cite the fact that the ideal body type changes all the time: not so long ago, it was considered beautiful for women to have a fuller body type, especially since this functioned as a social marker, indicating she had a husband who was wealthy enough to keep her plump. While obviously many Western countries dropped that ideal long ago in favor of emaciated runway models and airbrushed celebrities, Mauritania never did away with the "plumper is better" ideal of feminine beauty. And the results of it are just as scary and frightening similar to the effects in the United States' (and other countries of affluence) of our skinny ideals.


Reading this article from Marie Claire, which states that in Mauritania, "rolling layers of fat are the height of sexiness," I was struck by the eerie similarities that this country, obsessed with girthiness in its women, has with the West, constantly seeking the next diet or exercise plan to get closer to being the biggest loser. Many of them send their daughters to fat camps, to force feed them and fatten them up as they approach puberty with up to 16,000 calories a day  (what) and threatening them with bodily harm if they don't eat it all; we send our teenage girls to summer fat camp in hopes that they'll shed their extra pounds and gain self-confidence (side note: the prep school in my hometown ran one of these programs during the summers,and I always felt sorry for the girls, watching them walk in the sticky heat of a Pennsylvania July to the grocery store where they weren't allowed to buy anything. The whole thing reeked of sadness). And in both cases, it's justified under the mantle of attractiveness, particularly towards the opposite sex: how will you ever find a man if your body is so revolting as it naturally is (which could mean fat or bony, depending on who is doing the interpreting)?

One woman profiled in the article says she enjoys the perks of being fat (that men adore her body and compliment her all the time), but that she wishes she could diet so she could be more dynamic and healthier and not wheeze as she walks. However, she's scared if she's slimmer that men will no longer find her attractive. Reverse the scenario: Western woman enjoys being thin for the perks, but wishes she could relax about her diet so she could be less stressed and more confident and healthier (constant dieting is B-A-D BAD for you!). But, alas, a softer body might yield less compliments and head turns.

Startlingly, another woman in Mauritania (who noted her struggles with gaining weight, and how she was teased in school by the plumper girls) revealed that recently, her husband told her that he "didn't like sleeping with a bag of bones." She has now started taking pharmaceutical drugs to help her increase her appetite and gain weight. Again, sound familiar?

Point being: the actual specifics of a cultural beauty ideal aren't really the problem. The problem is having an ideal that allows for no personality, no individual expressions of beauty, no room to breathe.

Much love,
The Sheriff

sorry sorry

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The Sheriff has had an absurdly intense string of bad luck lately which has attacked my car (needs a new transmission), my computer (got the Palladium malware), and my camera.

So there is no post today. Sorry! I couldn't pull anything coherent together, and I just respect you too much to throw crap up here for the sake of posting something.

Hope to be back with something Tuesday or Wednesday.

Much love,
The Sheriff

friday links

How one mother worked on re-naming her transgender child with the child's input.

Fantastic questions to ask yourself about your body image to work on improving it.

Puppy love.

Being a plus-sized woman in a skinny-girl world. 

Study finds increased stress and depression among college first-years (study also uses phrase first-years! Impressed).

Be kind to yourself. 

What Victorian women thought of sex.

From SmartPrettyAndAwkward: "When a pen stops writing, you have two options: throw it out, or scribble it around on the paper until the ink appears again. When something stops working, whether it’s a job, your academic major, or a relationship, you have a choice whether to move on or to try hard to make the broken item fixed. But like a pen that has been scribbled back to life, a job/college major/relationship that has stopped meeting your needs before will probably stop meeting them again, no matter how hard you frantically scribble to bring it back to life."


GOP drops its ridiculous attempts to re-define rape. YAY!

I LOVE THIS AD: Scotland tackles the "she was asking for it" myth. Good commentary on it too in the article!

A photo essay of penguins. Yes.

Much love,
The Sheriff

choices, choices

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College is full of choices. And they are almost always blown out of proportion and seen as being Huge, Very Important Decisions that will totally determine how happy you are, how much money you have, and whether you have a fancy pants obituary upon your death. You choose your college (well, more accurately, they choose you), then you pick your major, which is supposed to somehow relate to what you're supposed to do with the Rest of Your Life. At a young, child-like 18 (seriously. I know it's cliche, but the older I get, the more I look at first years in disbelief like, "OMG you can read and drive a car? Are you sure? Do you want me to hold your hand?" I even find myself doing it to the freshmen pledges in Meatball's fraternity), you're somehow supposed to be imbued with the knowledge of what you like, what you're good at, and what will translate into a major with a marketable enough skills to make you ca$h and which will logically lead to a career in your post-graduation, shiny, exciting life.

This post is mostly to assure anyone at any point in this process of becoming an "adult": It rarely works out this way.

Every year at Smith, I've had at least one moderately major meltdown where I sit down and cry and pull on my hair and maybe suck my thumb for a while in fear. Did I choose the right major? Will I ever find a job? I don't even like what I study, WHY would I want to do this forever? I picked a major my first semester at Smith, thinking Government and Middle East Studies was totes what I wanted forever and ever and that I'd get a Really Important Job in DC after I graduated, make big bucks, live The Good Life desired for me by my parents (who have not gone to college and are supportive but also completely fuckin clueless about how scary some of these choices are and wonder why I think college isn't just a cake walk), and never look back.

But then, junior year, I realized that our government does some sketchy shit, and that I don't actually like DC or its culture of yuppies who all wanna be Obama whilst wearing boring suits and panty hose in 102 degree weather with 100% humidity (not hatin' on them, but I realized that that sounds like my personal version of Hell). I had a friend who realized that her degree, while being what she wants to study, would raise a lot of questions from future employers about its practical usefulness (what does a degree in Medieval Studies mean, exactly?). Similarly, I have a friend who majored in something appropriately science-y and important, and she's also clueless about what comes next so it's not just those of us who chose "fluffy" things to study that have no direct link to a career (Comparative Literature? Anthropology? NOT USELESS). And even securing an actual job post-graduation is not free from judgment by well-meaning folks, who accidentally put massive pressure on you and make you feel like an underachiever and wonder if you'll ever do anything Real and Impressive with your life.

Point being? There is really no magical right answer to any of these questions. Sure, I envy Meatball's degree in Pragmatic and Useful Engineering (note: not his actual major), but I know that would've been a terrible choice for me (I am not pragmatic, though hopefully I am useful. I'm still unclear on what exactly engineering is). Your major does not determine your future anymore than where you went to college does (Condie went to a state school!). Listen to your gut, work hard, and make the choices that seem right for you. You do not need to impress anyone other than yourself at the end of the day. I can't guarantee things will be easy or that you'll always know the "right" option to choose, and the economic climate out there, admittedly, is scary. But being stuck in a life that you hate, doing something that you find dull but that you majored in during school because it seemed like a way to get a job with a big salary and benefits and a title, sounds a little scarier to me. It's okay to be scared or anxious about college and what comes next: it doesn't have to be perfect.

IT WILL BE OKAY.

Much love,
The Sheriff

PS--Similar topic and comfort can be found here!

Still Fighting: A Request from the Sheriff

I posted this as part of my Friday Links a while back, but it's sadly necessary to call attention to it again.

Most of us have at least ten bucks we could live without: maybe you'd spend it on a night at the bars, or waste it at CVS on makeup you don't need (no? Just me that does that? Well). I'm asking you to take that ten bucks and donate it to help Sofia stay in treatment for her eating disorder. I got my insurance cut off while in treatment at just 15, and I wonder constantly how much easier the fight against my eating disorder would've been if I'd been able to afford the proper care.

Just click this link, and give ten bucks. Just ten measly dollars given by just half the average daily readers of this blog would give her family another $2000-3000 for treatment! Please consider donating to help her. You'll feel really good about it, I promise. And if you truly have nothing to give, at least pass this along and send her good thoughts.

Much love and appreciation,
The Sheriff

"It's not a girls' school without men, it's a women's college without boys."

I was referred to this article by Beauty-Schooled. For those too lazy to click on the link and to read the whole thing, it's a piece from a British site called MyDaily discussing the benefits of single sex-education despite the fact that only 13% of The Good Schools Guide (which, as it sounds like, is a guide to helping British folks choose the best schools, both state and private, for their kids) were all girls schools.

I had a little difficulty reading this article just because of that phrase: all girls schools. I'm so used to gently correcting people about Smith ("Actually, it's a women's college, thanks."). Granted, they are talking K-12 education, at which age the students involved really are girls so I'll check my desire to correct it.

Frankly, I agree with everything that this woman says. To focus too much of the grades and performance of girls attending single-sex schools misses all of the other, more amorphous benefits that come from being educated with same sex peers. I imagine it would've been a much gentler place to go through puberty and all the delicious awkwardness of adolescence  Although I didn't have the benefit of a single sex education until college, I've seen the huge improvement in my confidence level, my public speaking skills, and my leadership ability (to be fair, I wasn't lacking terribly in any of those departments to start, but now I feel good about them which is just as important.).

Research shows girls tend to stop being shy and embrace more of their competitive side both in and out of the classroom when they go to all girls schools, while boys will scale back their "LOOK AT MY MASCULINITY" act. Girls feel more confident taking on positions of leadership, which will benefit them enormously once they must graduate and leave the haven of their female enclave. Much of the criticism of single-sex education is that it under prepares girls for the pressures of the real world which is obviously co-ed. Look at some of the graduates of Smith College (and other women's colleges boast just a prestigious a list), and tell me that these women couldn't thrive in the real world? Right. You can't.

I don't entirely buy the argument that girls and boys learn differently. It's just too close to jump from that to statements like "well female brains have a harder time with math" and "boys can't process and communicate their feelings like girls do," which sound like bullshit and reflect more of our stereotypes about the sexes than any innately gendered abilities or talents. However, she notes that girls tend to learn better in warmer classrooms, which I would've been all about as I remember my middle school being approximately 53 degrees inside at best, all the time.

Thoughts? Any of you go to single-sex schools for K-12? Was it a worthwhile experience?

Much love,
The Sheriff