International Women's Day...and Jane Fonda

As seems to happen with this blog a lot, I'm diving into writing this post with no real plan, hoping I'll figure it out along the way. That could go either way, but I figure, it's my blog and I started this so I could get better about posting my opinions where people could see them. Sure, they may be unpopular or too mainstream to some, but they're my opinions, and I'm trying to learn not to compromise my true feelings.

Today is (apparently, I'm really bad at keeping myself informed of these things) International Women's Day. (I'll get to how I actually feel about days like this later.) It's probably a good idea to have started reading Jane Fonda's memoir, My Life So Far.

I'll admit this flat out: I've always known who Jane Fonda was, but I only ever really knew the name and, later, that she was the daughter of Henry Fonda. Also that she used to do fitness videos. For a long time, the only thing I'd really seen her in was Monster-in-Law. (Not the greatest thing to know her for, although she was still great, despite that movie being absolutely ridiculous. And not in a good way.) Now, it's not that I've seen her in  anything else - so no, I haven't started working out with her, either - but it's more that I've been listening to her, interviews and just what she has to say. Now I've begun reading her autobiography, and I can't stop reading it. (Seriously, it was hard to tear myself away to do this blog post!)

I had no idea she worked with young girls and boys, in order to make sure they truly understand the ideas of sex and their bodies. I'm delighted to find that out, as I think work of that order is extremely important, particularly when there's so much that can be romanticized or sexualized to an extreme (such as porn or even people's treatment of fictional characters and famous actors/actresses), and young women and men can be learning the wrong thing. Jane Fonda is coming from a place of pain; there was a lot that happened to her as she was growing up. She was put in uncomfortable positions, and she didn't understand what happened to her body, and with the home life she had, there was no one to take her hand and soothe her through it, and explain it properly. This is really affecting to me, and to hear that she works with young women and men is amazing.

One of the greatest parts of the book (so far, I'm nowhere near finished yet, and I'm sure she'll continue to talk about some things that I deeply relate to as the book progresses!) is when she writes freely about the problems she's had sexually and physically, and with her vagina. (Hopefully you can continue to read this post after that - the vagina being such a taboo topic in today's world is such a problem, that she, and Laci Green particularly, are being great about addressing and keeping it matter of fact!) She freely says her vagina was a pain in the ass, which is awesome, because hey, sometimes they are! But what was more affecting about the problems she was writing about was that she had no one to tell her what was wrong, or to even ASK her what was wrong, as by these points, her mother had begun trips to medical centres and was having her own deep seated problems. (One of the most intense things was when she said she was glad she hadn't had her period, because that would mean she was a woman, and she didn't want to be a woman, didn't want to end up like her mother. When she finally got her period, and her stepmother, with the best of intentions, said "Now you're a woman!" she wrote one of the most affecting things I've ever read: "I don't want to be a woman. Women are destroyed." That will stay with me forever.)

One of my favourite parts is when she's talking about how versatile our vaginas are, and what they can do. She really addresses the fact that we are other, and no one ever wants to talk about how, let's face it and take a page out of Laci Green's book here, magical vaginas are! (Seriously. Think about it.) I'll share this quote here, which I love.

"While some of you are probably wishing that was one epiphany I hadn't had, it's important for women and girls to be able to talk about the most complex parts of themselves. It can represent an important owning of ourselves. Vaginas are, after all, very talented and versatile. They can stretch, shrink, give birth, feel and give pleasure. In 2001, just before coming briefly out of retirement to perform in The Vagina Monologues at Madison Square Garden, I said to Barbara Walters on 20/20, "If penises could do half of  what vaginas can do, there'd be postage stamps honoring them and a twelve-foot-tall bronze statue of a penis in the Rotunda of our nation's Capitol." Instead, because vaginas belong to the other gender, they have been raped, pried, cut, sewn up, objectified and generally denigrated down through the centuries - the sorts of things one does to (apparent) objects of fear that men have so often needed to dominate."

This also really resonated with me. It's an old argument, that if men had to deal with the shit we have to deal with, everything would be a much bigger  deal (both good and bad), but I just liked how she communicated it here. It is SO important for girls and women to be aware of what vaginas can do and how versatile and essential they are. It is an important owning of ourselves, and they're so complex. (Jane writes of examining her vagina with a mirror, which is something Laci Green also encourages, and that really brings back the whole idea of complexity! So much going on.) Maybe the guys I know will get up in arms over this - or they won't read this - and I'm not, by any stretch, trying to say that all guys hate vaginas, but no one can deny they are a taboo subject. (When Laci Green was on Dr. Phil to speak about slut shaming, they bleeped her saying vagina but didn't bleep anyone who said ass or anything else that could be deemed offensive.)

I mostly just wanted to talk about how I'm developing more admiration and a connection with Jane Fonda's writing, but it is International Women's Day. I guess now is a good time to talk about how this kind of irks me, in the same way that Valentine's Day irks me. You only have to tell me you love me, and shower me with material affection, for one day, and then you're off the hook the rest of the year, because that's the only day that matters! When, really, I believe in showing love (and I try to show love, but no one is perfect, of course, and sometimes it's hard) every day that you can. It's the same here. Oh, here you go, girls, you get one day where everyone remembers you are people, and we'll spread it all over the Internet, but tomorrow, everything goes back to normal, and we'll remember you're still not paid the same wages as men and that your rights as people are still being contested all over the world in terms of legislation. (Although I was excited about the Violence Against Women Act that Obama signed the other day. We can make small steps forward, I'm not discounting that.) Just the fact that someone, somewhere, decided there needed to be one special day for women, where everyone could pat them on the head and say, "Good job for being a woman!", makes me mad. (Same with Valentine's Day. "Good job for being in a relationship.") We'll remember you for one day, and watch women-centric things and read women-centric things for you today, but we won't continue to do so later on!

Yes, most people will probably say I'm missing the point, but it's something I've been thinking about a lot as the years pass and I grow into myself and decide what I believe. And I believe I really dislike having special days for stuff like this, stuff that should be addressed and talked about every single day, not one day out of the year.

End rant.