Whenever I write about something I perceive as deeply personal I have a tendency to hold back in my writing. In this post especially, I am pushing myself to be more honest with myself as well as with my audience to preserve this post's authenticity. I consider myself to be opinionated with a purpose. I don't feel the need to participate in every argument, but the opinions that I do have are strong and I will vehemently defend them until something significant changes my mind.
I never think of my beliefs as wrong, most of them are so well thought out I see no other option than being right. Some of my opinions are not typical, however I never really think of myself as having an incorrect perception. Perhaps this is a result of my prep-inspired arrogance or just a product of my predetermined personality; thinking of my opinions as just plain wrong has never even really occurred to me before. It would be weird for me to not believe my own convictions are 100% true. I've learned to be confident in my arguments through years of english classes and my impulsive need to stand up for what I believe when faced with ignorance.
Yesterday, I got into an argument with someone over whether or not there are people in existence who are not inherently shallow. Of course, my opponent was not a girl, and believed that it was possible to convince me that guys were capable of choosing or at least would choose a girl with a better personality over one who was hot. Although I was presented with many somewhat compelling arguments, I stuck by what I said until the conclusion of our discussion. I have accepted being a total cynic with possibly a negatively distorted view of the world, but I was attacked with words that made me think that maybe I was worse than I originally thought.
Sexist.
Delusional.
Wrong.
Sad.
Offensive.
I will always to stick to my convictions, no matter how poorly an argument is going for me; even before the final word on the matter was spoken, I wasn't sure that I was truly convinced of what I was saying. I found the words he, my opponent, said scratching at my interior, dredging up glimmers of optimism that I have long since dismissed as false.
Do I actually believe that all men and most girls are shallow? Do I actually believe that people will always choose looks over personality? I accept the view of myself as offensive and delusional; I commend him for pointing out my biggest flaws accurately within only a few months of knowing me. (Am I that transparent?) But I certainly never thought of myself as sexist or sad in the way the word implies.
In reality, I want to believe that "nice guys" exist. I want to have faith in society and in the idea that people can escape from society unscathed by the pressure to act a certain way and pursue certain things in their romantic relationships. There was a point where if someone said the words "I don't think that way" to me, I would have readily believed them. Instead of skepticism, I would probably have felt satisfied, like I successfully found another reason to cling to foolish optimism.
Now, believing those words represents naïveté. It's a childish notion, akin to believing in Santa Claus. Belief in the myth was nice while it lasted, but I have grown out of it. When your parents first perpetrate the myth of Santa Claus, at first you don't think to question them, but as you pick away at the layers of their deception, you realize the truth. And once you find out the truth, you begin to question the existence of everything else: Tooth Fairy, Easter Bunny, ghosts, evil spirits that will 'get you' if you aren't in bed by nine. Once doubt becomes a factor, it's impossible to revert to the immature state of blindly believing in a myth.
I never really thought about the idea of me being sexist. That would be a painful label to receive given my recent attempts at neo-feminism. I'm not really excited about the image of a "man-hater". Changing my view of men would be a nice theoretical, but my beliefs about men are strictly based on data and drawing conclusions from this data. Last night, I think I gave the impression that I haven't given guys a chance; this is not the case, I have. I find it incredibly painful to have to go through disappointment and suffer through even less of a will to exist in this society every time I rediscover all guys to be the same. If I am sexist, I blame the social environments I have been a part of. I would normally be willing to hold myself accountable for my actions (more self-loathing FTW), but in this case, I think it is fair to blame my environment.
I understand how my view of the world could be seen as sad. I am aware of the pessimism that fuels it. I am acutely aware of the fact that I have a damaged perspective. I understand how incapable of trust I have become. I know that my skepticism is a microfilm defense against the ease with which I find myself loving others and eventually trusting them. My struggle with being "sad" or "pathetic" is something I have been dealing with (or ignoring) for years. I balance out my sad life with the promise (delusion?) that one day I have to be happy and everything I have dealt with will eventually be worth it. I'm working hard to meet a certain end, and I have grown to accept every road block that has come in my way. If I've learned nothing else from my West Indian heritage, it's that persistence and hard work will eventually thrust me out of whatever struggles I have. Being sad and pathetic doesn't really bother me; I feel like awareness of a problem is a big enough step for me to put off solving the problem for a while.
Maybe it would be wise for me to amend my statement in my next conversation with my friend. For the sake of peace keeping and open mindedness, it would be a logical move to accept that there are a few boys (men, guys, whatever) who are capable of not being shallow. Even with accepting their existence, I can't let this change I interact with the world. I would need to stow this acceptance in the same mental category as world hunger or the AIDS epidemic. I know they all exist, but there's nothing I can do about any of them, so I acknowledge the existence deep down while ignoring it in my every day interactions. I am capable of that much reason, yet not stupid enough to completely break down the protective barrier I have constructed based on the word of one individual. That's what gets me into trouble in the first place and no matter how sexist or delusional I am perceived, I do what I need to do to survive with at least a modicum of sanity intact.
Yesterday, I got into an argument with someone over whether or not there are people in existence who are not inherently shallow. Of course, my opponent was not a girl, and believed that it was possible to convince me that guys were capable of choosing or at least would choose a girl with a better personality over one who was hot. Although I was presented with many somewhat compelling arguments, I stuck by what I said until the conclusion of our discussion. I have accepted being a total cynic with possibly a negatively distorted view of the world, but I was attacked with words that made me think that maybe I was worse than I originally thought.
Sexist.
Delusional.
Wrong.
Sad.
Offensive.
I will always to stick to my convictions, no matter how poorly an argument is going for me; even before the final word on the matter was spoken, I wasn't sure that I was truly convinced of what I was saying. I found the words he, my opponent, said scratching at my interior, dredging up glimmers of optimism that I have long since dismissed as false.
Do I actually believe that all men and most girls are shallow? Do I actually believe that people will always choose looks over personality? I accept the view of myself as offensive and delusional; I commend him for pointing out my biggest flaws accurately within only a few months of knowing me. (Am I that transparent?) But I certainly never thought of myself as sexist or sad in the way the word implies.
In reality, I want to believe that "nice guys" exist. I want to have faith in society and in the idea that people can escape from society unscathed by the pressure to act a certain way and pursue certain things in their romantic relationships. There was a point where if someone said the words "I don't think that way" to me, I would have readily believed them. Instead of skepticism, I would probably have felt satisfied, like I successfully found another reason to cling to foolish optimism.
Now, believing those words represents naïveté. It's a childish notion, akin to believing in Santa Claus. Belief in the myth was nice while it lasted, but I have grown out of it. When your parents first perpetrate the myth of Santa Claus, at first you don't think to question them, but as you pick away at the layers of their deception, you realize the truth. And once you find out the truth, you begin to question the existence of everything else: Tooth Fairy, Easter Bunny, ghosts, evil spirits that will 'get you' if you aren't in bed by nine. Once doubt becomes a factor, it's impossible to revert to the immature state of blindly believing in a myth.
I never really thought about the idea of me being sexist. That would be a painful label to receive given my recent attempts at neo-feminism. I'm not really excited about the image of a "man-hater". Changing my view of men would be a nice theoretical, but my beliefs about men are strictly based on data and drawing conclusions from this data. Last night, I think I gave the impression that I haven't given guys a chance; this is not the case, I have. I find it incredibly painful to have to go through disappointment and suffer through even less of a will to exist in this society every time I rediscover all guys to be the same. If I am sexist, I blame the social environments I have been a part of. I would normally be willing to hold myself accountable for my actions (more self-loathing FTW), but in this case, I think it is fair to blame my environment.
I understand how my view of the world could be seen as sad. I am aware of the pessimism that fuels it. I am acutely aware of the fact that I have a damaged perspective. I understand how incapable of trust I have become. I know that my skepticism is a microfilm defense against the ease with which I find myself loving others and eventually trusting them. My struggle with being "sad" or "pathetic" is something I have been dealing with (or ignoring) for years. I balance out my sad life with the promise (delusion?) that one day I have to be happy and everything I have dealt with will eventually be worth it. I'm working hard to meet a certain end, and I have grown to accept every road block that has come in my way. If I've learned nothing else from my West Indian heritage, it's that persistence and hard work will eventually thrust me out of whatever struggles I have. Being sad and pathetic doesn't really bother me; I feel like awareness of a problem is a big enough step for me to put off solving the problem for a while.
Maybe it would be wise for me to amend my statement in my next conversation with my friend. For the sake of peace keeping and open mindedness, it would be a logical move to accept that there are a few boys (men, guys, whatever) who are capable of not being shallow. Even with accepting their existence, I can't let this change I interact with the world. I would need to stow this acceptance in the same mental category as world hunger or the AIDS epidemic. I know they all exist, but there's nothing I can do about any of them, so I acknowledge the existence deep down while ignoring it in my every day interactions. I am capable of that much reason, yet not stupid enough to completely break down the protective barrier I have constructed based on the word of one individual. That's what gets me into trouble in the first place and no matter how sexist or delusional I am perceived, I do what I need to do to survive with at least a modicum of sanity intact.
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