it’s a bit funny. feeling total confusion. cause in many ways, i’m a specialist in my field. of recognizing oppressive behavior, understanding the patterns.
many times in the conflict, the only new thing to me (apart from my utopian hope being crushed time and time again), was experiencing the feeling that goes along with the pattern that i already know from reading zines, interviews, books. the vilification of feminists, and especially us who truly engage in challenging the system.
so many times, i was declaring that i’m really lucky in the sense that i’m not involved, in the same ways as many others. people get into the scene when they’re 17 or so, grow into the culture and web of friendships and statusrelations within the sphere. they don’t come with clear political views. ideals and goals. (in the way that i have entered – aiming for a revolution. nothing vague. but real and possible. if we want it.)
and then all of a sudden i found myself feeling very involved and affected.
it scares me. (m)’s way of expressing herself. the statement she wrote recently. the bending of truth. the sympathies towards her, that come with it. and at the same time exposing herself. to me. exposing her neck.
i read the text, and my trained mind tries to not get into my own mixed feelings, but try to stay open. it’s difficult to understand, when i feel so strongly. it’s easy to want to see, and i question myself when i see the love and the insecurity. the distrust.
i don’t understand sexism from a male persons point of view. and i would very much like to know what it’s like. i see the privileged thinking coming up in her text. and at the same time the willingness to meet. somewhere it’s there. as well.
the trauma i’ve been going through. the numbness. all this. the heavy oppression. since she feels / felt close to me, it could have affected her as well. there’s a possibility that she was traumatized seeing what i was going through. seeing the aggression directed towards me.
it was really painful for me, to see her distance herself from the situation. not wanting to deal with it. not being capable of giving support. and eventually getting in to aggression herself.
the woman who wrote the insanity declaration. when i got in contact with her. she didn’t want to see me. but we were mailing some. it was really difficult for me to deal with others, and myself at the same time. everything in pieces. she said she wrote it to defend me. in capital letters: DEFEND. that her aim was that. it sounded as a bad excuse then. the illogic that always affect me. i can’t stand inconsistency. unless it’s explained to me in a way i can understand the underlying reasons.
maybe this woman as well. was affected by the aggressive atmosphere on the mailing list(s) where she had sent the mental illness declarations. and wanted to sooth the aggressors by saying: “she’s crazy. she doesn’t understand what she’s doing when she says that she’s ‘seeing’ things. so try to show compassion” [not an exact quote but kind of the meaning]. a way of selfdefense. because we are not trained to confront directly. or even know what it is we should confront.
sometimes others. sometimes ourselves.
i feel bothered sometimes by knowing (m) can read this. wondering is she’s reading this now. what is she thinking.
most of this conflict has been really surreal to me. cause it’s been pieces of text going here and there. and now it’s on a blog.
i don’t remember the first mail. but at some point there was some longer thing coming. and i love the way she writes. very clear. well, when it comes to writing about sexism, she’s fairly unclear and confusing. but i feel at home in her way of expressing herself. i can feel inspired by her, by her words.
and when everything turned so aggressive, and there was no end to it. it has angered me many times. the bad treatment i got. not only from the community at large, but also her specifically. the ideals these open spaces are supposed to represent, and how difficult it is to realize it, when there is no real communication or understanding of how these patterns work in our everyday lives.
about (m) again. yes. i think i might have been looking for the impossible dream. the feminist man. (it’s very common that heteronormative wimmin feminists do that… it’s a societal thing… and we’re definitely a part of society. the “get-a-proper-eduction-job-wife-house-car” thing). it’s very strange to find myself where i am now. in love again. in a human being.
sure (m), read it. i don’t know what it is. where it comes from, or why. i don’t know how long it lasts. or what i can do with the feeling. it’s gotten me totally out of control at least a couple of times in this mess. and also back on track.
it’s really hard to bring it out on a conscious level. instead of the paranoid, kind of crazy, unclear weird intent. i don’t understand why it has to be so difficult just to admit it. our society is really truly damaged, when we can’t talk about the most fundamental basic thing: love.